Author: carolannwright

Looking back over the past few years, I wonder how I got through. There have been times I thought I wouldn’t, get through I mean. That I would break. Even times when I felt broken, like a broken china doll. Not that I was fragile, well not before 2013. I was strong. I had my own Private Practice, ran the home, ‘here on the farm’. Had 7 ponies and 1 horse and enjoyed my life to the full. 2012 was a bad year, at least most of it.   My beloved Evening Star, my horse for 24 years, died leaving me bereft. The following day, the day of the Queens Jubilee, I received an email that changed my direction and I became entrenched in a nasty online hoax that took me back to places I never wanted to revisit. It came to an end when the hoaxer was taken to court and punished. But there was a positive, in the guise of  a new arrival, a baby girl, Hannah, whom my eldest daughter wanted to adopt. Most of you reading this know what happened next. So even that itself, although it began as a good, ended as a bad. Since then, early 2013, parts of my life have spiraled out of control. Events happened and my whole life changed. Collapsed like a pack of playing cards. But life is not a game, we don’t always have choices and sometimes have to just work with the life cards dealt us. The Carol Ann who had always been so strong, went missing.

I began blogging a year ago. My first blog was ‘To Air My Thoughts’. This was personal and the only way I had of defending myself from libelous lies being spread about me. ‘The Truth about Family’ was an open honest account of something that has been lied about in the most horrendous manner by my daughter Lisa and her aunt Trisha. Maybe that was wrong. But I have always done the right thing, all of my life, always been honest and it had resulted in my losing so much. This was the only way. I had been so badly hurt and re reading it brought everything back. It was a very personal blog but I felt so vulnerable and sad at that time. Beaten down by ‘family’.

I am trying to paint the picture of ‘where’ I found myself after these recent events, why I was in such a weak, low place. At a time when my strength had ebbed away and I felt at rock bottom, David was diagnosed with PC, my world was turned on its head and I was full of terror and pain. Reading over my blog, I am reminded of my fragility, my fear and my helplessness. My beloved husband had cancer and I was falling apart. Not David but me, his wife.

I had no one to talk to, living so far from family who are still in my life and so, taking the advice that I give to my clients, I wrote it all down, to offload. Hence ‘The Journey’ here, in my blog. After the biopsy I was in shock, as I said last week. I wasn’t prepared. How could I be? How can any of us be prepared? Any of you beginning your journey as the wife or partner of a man with PC might find yourself on my pages. Recognise the terrors I felt initially. You may see yourself struggling like I did trying hard to make sense of things since the diagnosis turned your world upside down.

It is said that life is what you make it. I don’t believe that. You have to make your life with what you have, what you are given. Life is like a pack of cards, sometimes you are dealt a good hand and sometimes you are not. Sometimes you can lay all the cards out in sequence and then someone leaves the door open and the wind blows them all in the air. They fall, out of sequence. No order. Muddled. Starting again, retrieving those blown away, you try to continue. You have to work hard with whatever hand you are next dealt, to make the best as good as you can. At other times you can lay your cards out, spend time putting them in order and feel good that the whole pack is complete. But someone or something will come along and steal one and like losing a piece of a jigsaw puzzle, you can’t rest until you find it. Sometimes the card is lost forever and you need to either find another pack or find another game. Life is never the same with one card missing. Other times you may stack them feeling good at what you have achieved, cleverly making a tower as children do. Then suddenly, wallop they all come crashing down. For no apparent reason. Nothing you did caused it, life just made it happen.

But. If you are clever, you can rebuild, using just the cards you have left. Yes the finished effect may be different, minus any missing, but it can still be good.

That’s life.

As a child I always felt I was not in the ‘pack’ at home. I was different. Didn’t belong. The ‘Joker’ perhaps. As I grew up, I was determined to make a life where I was part of something. School was good, I was always happy and again at college but not at home, outside of my ‘family’, where I found myself. Married and with children, I tried to teach them that they shouldn’t try to ‘fit in’, it never works, but try and fit life around themselves, with whatever it has given them. To be honest, caring and show others kindness at all times. That way, they would always belong. I also made sure my children felt loved and wanted, something I never had. The hand life had dealt me was not a good one and try as I did, over and over, I always lost the game. I didn’t want this for my daughters.

So like a pack of cards, the game of life can deal us a good hand or a bad hand. PC was definitely a bad hand. Try as I might, in the beginning it seemed to be a futile attempt at winning and I feared the game would be over far too soon. There were many times in the early part of My Journey, I felt like throwing the cards out of the window and running for the hills, I felt life had dealt me every bad hand it could, this was the last one I could handle. And handle it I wasn’t. Childhood, full of cruelty and abuse. The wicked hoax. Nasty cruel family stuff for 3 years previous to this and lots and lots of loss. Now the worst hand of all. PC. and the threat of losing my beloved husband. Sometimes it became just too much. But I didn’t, run for the hills I mean. I love David and with the support from the PC groups on social media I am still here to tell the tale and hopefully encourage others, to either play the hand you are dealt, even if it means cheating, Yes, cheating, as playing fair in a fight with cancer with a little ’c’, is no game at all.

Joining the PC groups when I was feeling isolated by ‘family’ at a time I needed them, was the best thing I had done at that time. I had felt terrified of where I found myself and unburdened these fears, on the pages and here, in my blog. I thought I had been rendered weak, that I was the only wife falling apart. Helpless, angry, sad and different. Other members soon replied to my comments. They wrote offering support, re-assurance and advice. Although it was a group none of us wanted to be part of I felt I belonged. I wasn’t alone. A good feeling at a not so good time in my life. I have gained so much, learned so much and will be forever grateful.

So ultimately, I believe that life isn’t what you make it, it depends on outside forces, other people’s actions and the cards Fate deals us. If we are dealt a bad hand, perhaps we can turn it around and make the game different, somehow better.

PC taught me, more than any other ‘nasty’ in my life, that even though it is horrid, cruel and scary. Even though it can change us, change how we react to things, change how we are with each other, how we cope; we do cope.

Life is complex and can deal you bad hand after bad hand, blow after blow and so consequently, things change. We change. Life changes. After David’s surgery, our life changed. It will never be the same again. David has changed, but he is still the man I married, the man I love. My friend and my rock. Have I changed? I was doing so in the few years prior to the cancer, but not for the better. The pain inflicted, the betrayal and hurt, courtesy of my eldest daughter had changed me, almost beyond recognition. Brought the worst out in me. When she hurt my brother in such a wicked way, my own self esteem dropped to rock bottom with shame. The hurt and pain had stolen my self-confidence and sense of self. I felt a shell of the woman I had been. She was my daughter and behaving in way alien to me. But David’s recovery from PC has restored me to the strong woman I used to be. It happened slowly and without my knowledge. The fear of losing him was the worst thing ever. He is my life. He says he couldn’t have got through any of it without me, without my support and encouragement but most of all my love. This warms my heart and makes me feel better about the woman I am. Better about Carol Ann and growing stronger every day.

Life is different yes but still good. We are different but we are good. Whatever hand life deals us, even a bad one, with self-belief and strength we can turn it into winning hand. Yes it will be hard sometimes, but oh so worth it. This game called life will, from now on, be enjoyed and faced with a ferocity never seen from us before.

In most games we get to choose the part we play but life doesn’t give us that option. But even at the worst of times, we can use the cards dealt us and make something out of them. Even if some are missing. We can do that. We do that all the time, in some way or another. Just because it isn’t the hand we would have chosen, it doesn’t have to be a bad one. Life always throws something at us, good or bad and somehow we manage to stay here, making the most of what we have. Sometimes happy, sometimes not so. Belonging is good, so join things. Being supported is good, so Share in a group. Being loved is essential, so appreciate that. Loving ,caring and giving, is even better than receiving. Make sure you do that at every opportunity. Life itself is a good hand so play it. Beginning today.

Thank you for reading.x

How fast life can change, too rapid for me to find the brake and bring it to a temporary halt. To stop it from running away from me, out of control. How often these past few years have I felt like that.

I have talked about the ‘nasties’ that threatened my writing career and reputation. At times threatened my sanity. I have told of the damage this did to me and my family ‘here on the farm’. How my peace of mind was stolen and my sense of safety diminished. How ‘family’ have tried their best to ruin my ‘Happy ever after’. And then the biggest thief of all. Prostate cancer. That horrid disease stole so much from me and others who have suffered its onslaught.

This is the time in our lives, mine and David’s,  post PC,  post nasty family stuff ,when we should be relaxing, enjoying his still being here, enjoying the lack of hospital appointments and the endless waiting for tests or results. Yes this should be a good time for us. Those of you who have travelled this journey that none of us asked to take, either alongside of me  in my blog, or in the groups I am part of, you all know how cancer with a little ‘c’ can steal our peace of mind. Our confidence. Our time. In return giving us anxiety, sadness, anger and hurt. Cancer steals so much and gives nothing good back!

Once again this week I have heard friends being told that PC is the ‘good cancer’. That if you are going to get cancer, this is the one to get! Rubbish! Saying these things, for whatever reason, steals the sufferers right to feel as bad as some do. I read an article on social media about Gleeson 6 being a ‘bogus cancer’, not needing surgery! Stealing from sufferers, their ‘okay’ or ‘steady’. Their safe. The safe that comes from making the right decision, either now or having made it and had surgery.Those concerned about making the right decision  re treatment, those who have had surgery,  have been thrown into confusion and fear. There is no place for this kind of talk. No necessity. Unforgivable. THERE IS NO GOOD CANCER!! End of. It’s a lie!!  I can remember in the early days, when life was getting almost too much to bear, people would say ‘oh that’s’ alright, it’s the cancer to get ,if you have to have one. It’s the good cancer’. I wanted to scream at them, ‘then you have it! I don’t want it, David doesn’t want it! There is nothing good here!’ But I knew they thought they were helping. It doesn’t help.

The other thing was, people not understanding my fear. Not acknowledging how it was affecting me. They would say, ‘you don’t have cancer, David does! ‘As if that makes it alright! PC affects both of us, in any relationship between man and woman, PC will have ongoing effects, as well as the huge anxiety and fear during and before any treatment. It is really a couple’s’ cancer if there were such a thing. We are in this together and the side effects will change us both and our relationship. That doesn’t mean it will destroy it, make it a bad or lesser one , just that it will change. By people saying things such as these, they stole my ‘right’ to be affected in the way that I was. Stealing my giving myself permission, during this horrendous time. Making me feel lacking in some way. I know it is ignorance but it is still a theft to me.

I have said this before, PC doesn’t come in isolation, it doesn’t come and begin a new worry into our lives, separating us from worries we already have. It came to us when I was already at rock bottom with ‘family’ stuff, I was worn down when it reared its ugly head and turned what was left in my life, upside down. That was when I almost broke.

People think that it is only material things that can be stolen from us. But of course it isn’t. Death steals people from us, stealing the love they gave and changing our lives. We are helpless to stop it. My brother is terminally ill with lung cancer and that continues to scare me. He has been a constant in my life and not having him is unthinkable. I lost a sister and my best friend to this evil disease, in the past few years,changing part so my life forever. Stealing those I love. Then PC threatened to steal my rock, my life, my David. But so far we have beaten it off with a big stick!

We are almost out of the other side and as I said, this should be an easier time, a relaxing time and a happy time. But it isn’t, courtesy of my eldest daughter Lisa. I wrote a personal blog on here ‘The Damage and Danger of Rewriting History’. I wrote it because I knew she read my blogs, and I have no other way of contacting her as she ignores or refuse my emails. I wanted to give her a chance to put things right. She didn’t. I also wanted to point out the dangers of children not knowing their parentage, or family history. This came from my having to contact my husband’s estranged son and tell him about his father having PC. I had to tell him as this can be hereditary.

Because of the ‘gossip that Lisa has spread about me, her children, my grandchildren have been told that the man who is her Dad, is not her dad. That the family she came from on her father’s side is not her family. We both know this is not true. We both know who her Dad is but I am not there, with the people she is gossiping to, to counter this. To tell the truth. To reassure my grandsons that Terry, her dad is indeed her father. I don’t know why she is doing this. I have no idea, all I do know is that she is running out of ways to hurt me. Last year, causing the trouble she did with my publisher was, I thought the lowest she could go. I was wrong. Putting the nasty lies and stories on social media, about her parentage, about her Mum, is unbelievable and cruel. I know where these lies will have come from and am not surprised at that person but Lisa is my daughter and has always only been told the truth. It was my honesty and the need for truth that made her shut me out of her life 3 years ago, so she knows I only ever tell the truth. Although she wants nothing to do with me, she keeps on coming back with new ways of causing me pain and trouble. But this is step too far. By denouncing her parentage, she is stealing my grandson’s, her son’s heritage. Stealing my past but most importantly,stealing their past, leaving them not knowing where they came from. That again is cruel. By telling her stories, given to her by someone who has had no part in our lives for almost 40 years, her aunt, my youngest sister,she has denied Terry’s ever being a Dad. She is his only birth child. That again is cruel. More so because it is not the truth. By doing all of this, she has stolen the beauty and wonder of the day I gave her life. It was a hard birth but worth every minute of pain. Why would she do this! I don’t know. The heritage of my grandsons, is precious. My mum in law was a wonderful warm lady who loved me and adored Lisa. The whole family welcomed me into it as soon as we met and we remained friends for many years after my marriage failed. Terry, her dad,was a kind, caring man who was a good husband and father, for the short time we were married. He and I and Lisa because I told her when I wrote my book, know the reasons for the marriage not working. I want Harrison and Jordan, my grandsons, to know this history, to know where they came from. They look so much like their granddad, or rather Harrison does and Jordan looks like Terry’s brother, their uncle. Lisa looks like her Nan. The other issue here is medical. With denying her parentage on her father’s side, she steals the boys medical history, medical knowledge that could keep them safe in the future. Theft of an unforgivable nature. All of her lies, damage people I love  and steal the truth. My daughter seems to be  waging a war but she is the only one fighting.

My need for honesty comes from my growing up in a web of lies. I didn’t know that the man who had brought me up was not my father. I was told this, during a ‘row’ with my mother. I was 17. I was shocked and felt bereft. The reality of who my father was, was horrendous and stays in my mind up to this very day. Suddenly, my whole existence, my whole life was thrown in the air and I felt that I didn’t know who I was. I don’t want this for my grandsons. Remembering the pain of that discovery, why would I!

So, no, we are not relaxed, not enjoying a peaceful life when we should be. I find it hard to relax and so David is not as happy as he could be. Why do we take so much more from family than we would from any one else! Why do we let our children hurt us so much and do nothing! Unconditional love? Surely this should go both ways, shouldn’t we at least expect some loyalty from our children, and less intentional hurt? Why should I sit back and let Lisa steal my peace, my happiness with her lies? Why should I. Because she is my daughter? I think not. Daughters do not try to destroy their mums. These past few years have shown me, that it is David I should be thinking of, David who deserves my love and time. I owe it to him. I also owe it to my grandsons that they don’t lose their identity by a history stolen from them. I also owe it to me.

We still have the next PSA to face in a few months time but we both refuse to be anything but positive about the results. As for the contents of this blog. There is nothing more that can hurt me, affect my life, our life. I have minimalised the attempts to hurt me further. I came back like a phoenix when my book was taken off the market and it is now once again selling and reaching those it can help. This latest attempt to bring me down, although it saddens me for the reasons given, I can’t let it beat me. I am back writing and looking forward to getting back to the work I love. Because of the regulisation of Counsellors and psychotherapists, something I agree with, I will have to be re instated with my Accreditation level, by my governing body for CBT, before I take on the work I want to do. I was Accredited for 15 years but this lapsed when ‘family stuff’ made it impossible to work and then David having cancer, kept me out of the  ‘right place’ emotionally. The re instatement begins tomorrow when the board will look at my application. We work so closely with clients and I have always agreed that people in my position should be scrutinized before they are allowed to do my kind of work. The criteria for re instatement is stringent but necessary. I am hoping it won’t take long. There will be no hiccups so it should be straight forward. The hopefully normal service will be resumed, as they used to say. Whatever ‘normal’ is.

On another note, for those on my groups, who read the report I have referred to, on the Prostate pages, do your own research. Talk to others who have already been there, talk to us , we know what it is like. We know the pros and cons and ultimately, only you can decide what to believe. But remember,too much reading is also not good. Take it in tiny chunks and then you won’t be, like I was at first overwhelmed.

On a last note, emotional theft is sometimes carried out in stealth. So be aware and don’t let any one steal anything from you. Your confidence, your self-esteem, your peace of mind or your sparkle.

Thanks for reading x

This past week has been a mix of emotions and memories. September, as I said last blog, is sometimes bittersweet for me. Tuesday 7th is the anniversary of my Dad, William’s death. He wasn’t my ‘real’ dad whatever that means, but the man who was there as I grew up. He was an ex Royal Marine who fought for his country in the war. He was kind, caring and sometimes witty. He died the year I met my husband, 1985 but I still miss him and knowing he was always there. How sad he would have been if he had witnessed his family, my family, falling apart the way it has . If he had seen, how within our family, people can inflict hurt upon each other and tear each other apart. No, I am glad he hasn’t had to see that, it would have hurt him so much.

The 8th September this year, was our Pearl Anniversary and  we had a lovely day. It is so hard to believe that it was 30 years ago that we married. And they said it wouldn’t last!Most of the 30 years have been wonderful, my fairytale, but a few of late have been spoiled by outside influences. Although, David says his only regret, is not meeting me 20 years before, so that we would have had each other in our lives for so much longer. My only regret is allowing people in my life to hurt him, berate and spurn him and try to ruin what we have. I think that is their issues, not ours. So Friday morning, the 8th, saw us recipients of gifts and cards from our youngest daughter Marie and her husband, our giving each other our gifts and then off out to lunch. We drove to a little village that we like and may retire to next year. Found a gem of a place to eat and relax. During lunch we talked of when and where we met, smiling at the memories. The last thing either of us wanted at that time was a relationship. But it happened and we haven’t looked back since. We talked of our wedding and honeymoon and had some private giggles. We have shared many wonderful holidays, mostly in the Greek Islands and talked about those memories. This brought up the subject of my children and I began to feel a little sad but would not let that spoil our day. Family is important, but these past years have shown me that ultimately, when it comes down to it, what’s important is my husband and our life together. When we married all those years ago, on a lovely sunny day in Hampshire, David didn’t sign up for the pain and hurt we have suffered, or the hurt he has seen me go through at the hands of family. He didn’t sign up for the trouble that they brought to our door. But like me, he did as he reminds me, sign up for life. We vowed to love each other, support each other both in times of trial and sickness or in health. His love has been tried and tested to the limit and he stayed right by my side showing support, encouragement and love. For that I will always be grateful.

When PC hit him I thought that I might lose the man I love. I was scared, terrified that it would steal him away from me. I knew very little about this nasty disease and was not sure he would be okay. That was a test for me. I wasn’t prepared for how it would affect me, how it would scare the hell out of me and leave me wanting. Fear returns sometimes by association. If in an earlier part of your life you have been afraid, really afraid, by some kind of trauma as I had with a life of sexual abuse, it can sometimes be triggered, just by a word , an action, a feeling or even a smell, to throw you right back there. Whether the source of your fear was yesterday, last year, or in your childhood, you can suddenly find yourself back in that moment. The fear then stokes the furnace of your subconscious memory and the inner child in you is terrified once again. I know this feeling only too well. When David was diagnosed, little Carol Ann, was, as in my blogs, very present. My grown up self, had to work very hard to replace those memories by throwing everything into the quest for knowledge about PC, the cancer with a little ‘c’. Also sharing my fears on here.Reaching our Pearl anniversary is a milestone and we intend to have many more years of happy, in the future.

Saturday, the 9th has been a very hard day for me these past years, being estranged from my eldest daughter. It is her birthday, so lots of memories. Thoughts of the day she was born.Thoughts of many children’s parties, lots of happy children and noise. A house full of pretty things, cakes and goodies and everything a child’s party brings. I hope she had a lovely day in the life she has chosen. I don’t wish her anything but happiness from the life she has chosen, with the people she has chosen but I don’t believe the latter will happen. All I can do, is watch from a distance and hope she realises how hurting people, especially those who loved her will not bring her happiness. I wrote to her last week, giving her a chance to make this right. It was ignored. I will now have to take things into my own hands, have no choice. I try so hard not to think of her and my grandsons but memory is devious and creeps up on me at will, bringing it into my present.

We have all had a wake up call this past week I believe. The storms that have ravaged the Caribbean and islands in its path, have been the focus of the news. Thousands of desperate people fleeing their homes to try to stay safe. Whole islands destroyed, devastated. I can’t, like anyone, watch the images coming out of these storm damaged places, without feeling the desperation of the people hit by hurricane Irma. My heart goes out to them. Mother Nature is more fierce and destructive at times, than any man-made war can be. Why do world leaders threaten destruction on other countries for whatever reason? Why do neighbours fight with each other? Why oh why do families fight between themselves? Why, when forces out of any one’s control can cause such havoc and pain and huge collateral damage? We have talked about and been warned about global warming since I was a teenager, so what is anyone doing? The governments arguing between themselves, preening their feathers and strutting their stuff, would be advised to look at this. Spend the money they have on changing it and preserving our beautiful world for our children. Spend money of curing diseases, such as cancer, that if they don’t kill, like PC they can damage and sometimes destroy lives. Why can’t they spend more money on research, not on weapons with which to destroy?

Now to the Reality in my title. One of the legacies of David having PC is the fear element. It was for me, already there as I have said. Fear has always played a huge part in my life, especially in childhood and young adult hood. My husbands diagnosis saw the trigger pulled and I was back there, in the fear and terror. To some extent it is always with me. Every time David has an ache, a pain, I begin to think of a ‘what if’. I feel fear when I think of the future, I nearly lost it back last year, what if I am not strong enough for whatever life sends? Will I be able to cope if it returns or indeed if David becomes ill from anything, in the future? The reality is that we are getting older, the cancer has made us both more aware of that. We don’t think old, we don’t really feel old but we are, as everyone is, getting older. Reality. I am currently afraid of us not coping this Winter, looking after 6 ponies the land and house etc. I don’t have good health and as I get older, maybe the illnesses I have could get worse. I think David having cancer has left me vulnerable  and I sometimes see this in my husband. I know he gets tired much easier than he used to. I know he sometimes finds all there is to do here on ‘the farm’ too much although he tells me he doesn’t. But, I also know he is not ready to hand our beloved ponies over to Marie, yet. I also feel he is not ready as I am not, to leave our wonderful place ‘here on the farm’. Because Marie is now living more than an hour cross-country to us, she won’t be coming every day as she does now. Summer that is not a problem but come the bad weather, if the ponies are in every day, mucking out 6 stables twice a day is going to be hard. I worry if we are going to be physically strong enough to do this. My own health problems prevent me from handling the hay and bedding, so my part in looking after them will be limited. The ‘f’ word is back in full force when I think this way. Another fear, is that David has 2 brothers both of whom had brain cancers. One sadly died quite young. David himself has had two skin cancers removed and is awaiting another. So all of this sees Fear back big time on low days.

Marie is my confidante and my best friend, seeing her almost every day has been a bonus to us both living close but that now will change. I will miss her but know it is necessary and am so proud of the work she is intending to do on the farm. I wouldn’t tell her how I feel about missing her, I wouldn’t want to spoil this time in her life.

The title of my blog is about Emotions, Memories and Reality, all of which I have covered on here. They all have one thing in common, the ‘F’ word. Sometimes I am afraid for others here, on the groups I belong to . I see those just beginning the journey, I hear their fear, their confusion and their ‘what ifs’. I can’t help them, but sharing my thoughts, my feelings and emotions I try. Sharing my memories of the journey I am taking with PC, I hope brings some comfort when they realise that other people feel just as scared as they are now feeling. More importantly, that we have come out, or almost, the other side. Not unscathed but still here, still fighting and grateful. It is up to us survivors, yes I say ‘us’ because as I have said many times before, our men can not get through this nasty disease without our support, our encouragement and a sense of appropriate humour. This is one disease that affects us both, maybe in different ways, but still affects us and our lives together with or men. PC can be cured, it can be lived with but sadly, caught too late, can still kill. The side effects are bearable when we think of them as payment for surviving and still being here. People don’t always understand any of this, that is why we all have to teach them. I have talked of my pride in my husband for the way he has handled this illness. His strength, his pragmatism, his bravery. It can cause psychological damage to some men, feeling they have lost their manhood. Less of a man. Believe me, as a wife, I don’t think like that. David is still the man I married 30 years ago, still the man who I love and who loves me. I am proud to be his wife.

I am going back to work soon as I have said. I am going to look into giving talks to groups about PC, making people aware. This will not be to men alone because I feel strongly that wives and partners need to be prepared for the part they will play if their husband succumbs to PC. How it can affect them as well and their men and how it can change relationships. I hope to teach techniques of survival as I have done in the past for trauma, after all, that is what we have all experienced, during this horrid journey, trauma. I believe strongly that the best people to ‘teach’ others about things such as this, are those who have been there, read the book and worn the T-shirt. Nothing can prepare us in full for any of this but I will try. So I need to stay strong. Yes I have a blip now and again because the legacies of such diseases can be hard to rid yourself of. Now, when I find that Fear is playing a big part in my life, I use a technique to rid myself of this nasty feeling. Going back to work is good for me and good for my homelife, it is something I put aside when the family stuff began and then the PC raised its ugly head, but I need and want to get back to it. Back to my normality.I don’t want to take on too much work because I will need to help David, in any way that I can with life ‘on the farm’. But back to work I intend to go!

This post, in part may sound negative but the reality is , that it isn’t. At least David and I have a future. Denied sadly to many on here and in my personal life. I never intended to grow old gracefully . I always said, like my late friend Mo, no matter what, I will go there kicking and screaming for as long as I can. That’s what strong Carol Ann wants to do. If little Carol Ann emerges, sad, scared or hurting, I need to know how to nurture her and keep her safe and let my strength, that I hope I have found once more, look ahead with a positive outlook. Maybe next September will see me free from unhappy memories and having made happy, cancer free memories, with my husband ‘here on the farm’. Or somewhere new, who knows.

Thankyou for reading x

This month, September, is Prostate Awareness month. Something until 2 years ago I knew very little about. But boy, do I know about it now! This year it has a whole new meaning for me. I have read, researched and learned, like most of us on here, anything and everything there is to know about this horrid disease that steals so much from those afflicted. I know it is not always a killer as some thought. I know it can be contained and lived with. I also know that it can kill if it spreads and if it is not detected early enough. So why do most people know so little about it? Why is there not publicity, Government awareness campaigns, on Television, in surgeries etc.?As with other cancers? We see a great deal about breast cancer and bowel cancer and how they can be looked for and found in the early stages. Publicity about the testing, screening and checking and so we should. But nothing about a cancer that causes more than 11,287 deaths in the UK each year. More than 45,000 new cases each year. Thankfully, the survival rate is increasing to around 84% surviving for more than 10 years after treatment. So why is it not talked about! Why do we have a problem talking about such a nasty disease? Is it because it affects the most intimate part of a man’s body” Of a man’s functions? It isn’t easy to talk about, I know that. I am embarrassed very easily when it comes to talking about intimate things but we need to do this to prevent men from dying. Our men. Our husbands and partners, brothers and fathers and  friends. If we care, we need to make others aware. Aware that it can be detected early on and treated successfully in most cases. We need to shake off this ,’stiff upper lip’ and talk about Prostate Cancer wherever appropriate and necessary. As we do with other illnesses. Talk about PSA testing and get doctors doing it!

We have all heard PC called the ‘good’ cancer. Rubbish!! There are no good cancers. I dedicated a whole blog to this very stupid statement back in April I think it was. Whether it is uncomfortable, unpleasant or difficult to talk about for some people, we need to do this. It is one of the deadliest illnesses to affect our men. I would rather feel all of the above and help men, like my husband, to live.

One of the worst aspects of PC is how it doesn’t only affect the men. Apart from the fear, worry and helplessness it gives their partners; it imposes changes on the man and his partner, that can impact on their lives together in a way that can bring heartache and misery. The illness itself, at whatever stage, can change a couple’s life for-ever. It can bring horrid but mostly temporary changes for the man afflicted, like incontinence, lack of sexual function and other nasty side effects of treatment. For some men these side effects can be difficult to deal with. No-one really will understand how this feels for each individual man. In some cases, these changes, can sadly break a marriage and the man is left on his own to deal with the legacy of PC. That is where the support groups come in and do such a great job. We also need to acknowledge the Psychological impact of this disease, on both the men affected and their ‘carers’, wives and loved ones. I have written on here of my own anger, sadness and fear. I know most other women have experienced these to some degree. We all need to talk these things out. Please.

People who know nothing about PC have difficulty understanding, why the man in question may be reluctant to leave the house, Doesn’t want to socialize. Finds life hard and becomes depressed. There has always been a lack of knowledge and support and this has to change. Too many people are ignorant of the facts surrounding many things, including the effects of PC and still feel it okay to comment when people are struggling. Ignorance should not be an excuse for rudeness, mockery or insults. If you don’t ‘know’ about this disease or any other, ask, research and learn. Or if you don’t feel you want to do any of these, please keep your opinions to yourself.

I wrote a personal blog mid-week, that I didn’t share within the groups. The only reason being, it wasn’t directly about PC. But it was about last weeks blog on here ”The Damage and Danger of Rewriting History’. It was written, because after last Sunday’s blog, ‘The Journey is Almost Over but The Story goes on” in which I made reference to David being ‘pad free’ and how happy we were, I received a nasty comment or comments. I share David’s journey, we share everything, every  little hurdle and success with each other and on here, to encourage others and let those who have shown support, know how ‘we’ are doing. We hug, laugh, smile and share, all of it. Taking the nasty and throwing it out with a smile. But last week, continuing the ‘family’ stuff, I received a nasty, hateful comment from my eldest daughter Lisa. Insulting my talking about David’s progress, calling my beloved husband names. The comments were cruel , nasty and uncalled for. Attacking me is now something I expect, but insulting David, my caring, loving, funny brave man, was a step too far. As some know, she has bullied, lied and spread nasty untruths over social media trying to ruin and hurt me. None of this affected me as much as the last comments did, involving David. Especially after what he has been through. He has only ever shown her love, generosity and kindness, even when not deserved. This all began 3 years ago,with my need to be honest but has now taken a different turn, involving people who do not deserve to be involved. The ‘story’ surrounding her daughter’s adoption obviously has run its’ course and so now she has looked for and found, she thinks, untrue information with which to hurt me. It doesn’t because the truth is clear and will out. But the last comments did hurt because of the nature and lack of respect for my husband. So well done her.

I didn’t feel good about writing that blog but felt it was necessary.

But back to PC. This past week, I read a really sad post on one of my groups, from a man post operation, feeling over whelmed by everything that the operation had left him with. My heart went out to him. We have been there. So many group members wrote to him, including me, offering support, kindness and understanding, love and hope. That’s what I like about these groups. Because we have been there, or in some cases, sadly going there, we have mutual love and respect. I hope he is feeling better now.

I especially feel for the younger men in these groups whose lives have been turned on their heads by cancer with a little ‘c’. Try to hang on. Try to find within the changes forced upon you through cancer, other ways to love, other ways to live. Yes things are different, and words may sound pathetic but life and love don’t need to end. It may be different but it can still be good.

One of the things I have always resorted to, in hard times as I have said before, is humour. David and I have found ways to laugh about most of the changes, the little silly things in our lives now and believe me , it helps. Without doing so , this Journey I write about would have been unbearable and I for one would not have coped. So we continue to laugh, smile and joke, it keeps us sane.

Another aspect of PC is the possible genetic or hereditary link. Sometimes it can run in families. This is worrying, especially in families where siblings or children are estranged. You may remember how hard I felt it was, to write to David’s son and tell him about his Dad. I encouraged him to get tested and he was grateful. He did and will continue to do the tests yearly. ‘The Damage of Re Writing History’ could have consequences for us all. Not having knowledge of the medical conditions of your birth parents could impact drastically on your life going forward. I have breast cancer in my family, both older sisters. My brother has lung cancer and my eldest sister died from Liver cancer, secondary to the breast cancer. I have told all of my children and encouraged them to be screened. I have also told them of illnesses that affected their fathers, that is all I can do. If parentage is questioned, by those who have no knowledge of the truth……???

I have always believed in the power of the written word. As long as the facts are correct, the content true and factual and the proof is evident. Hence my blog. Also the reason for my books. As a woman and a partner I will support and encourage everyone I can. But more importantly, I will , in my limited capacity, teach those who are ignorant of the facts about this damaging cruel disease; that comes into our lives  like a prize-fighter, and throws its punches on our men and all of us who support them. I will pass on my knowledge and experience to anyone who will listen. Just to promote awareness and hopefully encourage men to have PSA tests as early in their lives as they can. What we need is to talk about it. Spread our stories and take the taboo out of the words, ‘Prostate cancer’ and ‘Erectile Dysfunction’. They are not dirty words, they are all part of an illness that needs more publicity. Who better to do that than the very people who have been there, done it and in some cases, got the T-shirt??

Last year at this time, I wrote another blog, ‘What September means to Me’. It brings the birthday of my eldest daughter, Lisa. 49 years ago and it was, at that time, the happiest day of my entire life. It will also bring the birthday of my eldest grandson Harrison. I have no contact with him but he knows in his heart, despite the stories he has ben told, that we here ‘on the farm’, love him and will always be here for him.

So here I am again, a long blog, sorry. Another September but this one is special. Not only is David cancer free but 30 years ago, on the 8th of September, we were married. We will celebrate our Pearl Anniversary, as we did our wedding, quietly and with those who love us. These years have been full of fun, love, happiness and laughter. Yes some recently have been spoiled, but no more. I intend to spend the rest of my life making my husband happy, here ‘on the farm’ and then in pastures new.

September for a lot of people in my groups, won’t be happy or a time to look forward and this saddens me. I will continue to blog. Continue to offer support and love in any way I can on my groups.

David and I, like this time of the year, are in the Autumn of our lives. We look forward to the future, I will be returning to my Professional role very  soon and to my writing that has been neglected of late. On the low days, and there will be some I am sure, I will look at the contents of my children’s memory boxes and remember the happy times we shared. No one and nothing can steal my memories. We have almost completely renovated our home and will begin to enjoy it once again. I look forward to misty mornings and orange sunsets. The ducks returning to our lake and the year ending much better than it began. As the picture above says, there’s a lot of story yet to tell’.

Life is about making memories. Good ones I hope. They will always outshine the bad.

Thankyou for reading x

Events over the past week have seen me having to think a great deal about my life. Before Prostate Cancer. Before meeting my wonderful husband David. Before things changed so much. I don’t recognize someone who meant so much to me in the past. It is not about PC. It is about how those whose lives don’t pan out as they had planned, who are so vulnerable that they believe stories and gossip about my past, from someone who wasn’t in it,who has had nothing to do with any of us for 40 years and so doesn’t know anything about me or my children.

It is sad how the little girl who was my first child, has changed into someone whose aim in life seems to be to cause me hurt. To make trouble for me. To hurt anyone who is loyal to me and my family. The comparison of the comments on my blog  by her and the words above, are so massive that they are difficult to comprehend. I don’t know who has heard the gossip, who has read anything she has written about me, her life and her Dad, Terry. I don’t know but what I do know is that sadly, she seems to have lost the truth somewhere in the past 4 years. That in itself doesn’t bother me, the gossip I mean becuse I know the truth, but her lack of honesty does.

When I had my eldest daughter, she was, as I wrote in a poem to her, My Blessing. Life had been hard as some of you know. My marriage was good although children had never been discussed. Our physical life was almost non-existent, a legacy of sexual abuse in my childhood, but my husband was very patient. It was a surprise to us both when I became pregnant. We had made love once, I conceived. Meant to be I thought.

My daughter became my life. Many things happened over the years and all I know is that I was the best mum I could be. When you have a baby, they don’t come with  a manual, it is guess work for most of us. I have a memory box here, in front of me, my eldest daughter’s box. It is full of letters, scribbled notes, cards saying ‘thank you,’’ I love you’, ‘the best mum in the world’ etc. etc. I am a literary  hoarder and keep everything ever sent to me or emailed to me. We were very close as she grew up. I was there when she had her first son, my grandson. I held him when his Dad brought him out of the delivery room after a ‘c’ section and placed him in my arms. I wasn’t ready, not expecting this huge rush of love for this tiny child. I loved him. I loved my daughter and my son-in-law.

At this time or rather a few years after Lisa was born,I had lost a son to adoption and have letters from Social services saying how he should never have been taken from me. I had been quite ill at the time, friends on here know about those awful times and support me. Against my will and judgement, he was adopted. I am now reunited with him and we share a mutual love, friendship and respect. I also had Marie, a sister for Lisa born when Lisa was 5 years, old to my second husband. Jonathan my son was born in 1971, after I had been apart from my first husband for 18 months. One of the legacies of sexual abuse, the inability to sustain long-term relationships, especially if the physical side of those is difficult. Hence the marriages.

When my daughter had her 2^nd son, her marriage broke down. Her husband was mortified and depressed. I wish I had seen this back then. I wish I had the training that I now have and the experience to have noticed this. He came to me often, asking me to speak to Lisa on his behalf, I did but to no avail. One Sunday he turned up at my door in bits. He came in and sobbed in my arms for hours. Eventually I rang his mother and Lisa came over. They talked but nothing changed. The following day he committed suicide. It was no one’s fault. If a marriage doesn’t work, it doesn’t work but he found it too much to take. I supported my daughter and my grandsons. It was me who had to tell them their Daddy was dead. The hardest thing I have ever done in my life. The eldest was 5 and the youngest around 1 year. I didn’t think twice about doing this when asked, I was Lisa’s Mum and there for her throughout her life and especially at that time.

Over the years we have fallen out, mostly because of my need for honesty and truth. She has hurt me over and over and I have forgiven her over and over. But this time she has the influence of an aunt who has always tried her best to spoil what I have. With my daughter she has possibly succeeded.

Why am I writing this today? My daughter, last year, aided by my youngest sister, Trisha Anne Hopkins, wrote and told my publisher lie after lie to try to ruin me. She lost me my publishing contract and cost me dear. This is now remedied and my books are back on sale. But the biggest cost was to me, the hurt and pain I suffered whilst trying to deal with David’s diagnosis of PC. Since then my daughter has re written her history, with no thought of the truth. My sister, her aunt knows nothing about me, my life, my issues or the huge things we have had to put up with and suffer through-out my life. She was not in touch with me, knew nothing about me after Lisa was around 7 years of age.How can what she tells Lisa and my grandsons, bear resemblance to any truth when she had no part in our lives?

So back to why I am writing this today. I have read and re read all the poems, letters, notes and emails Lisa has written to me over the years and been left feeling very sad. I loved my daughter, still love my daughter but not the one I see today. I love the kind, loving compassionate little girl who grew into a lovely caring young woman and mother. I love the person who would phone me 2 or 3 times a day. The one with whom I shared so much. The one who came to me for me to help her adopt her daughter Hannah. The one who couldn’t complete the forms because she couldn’t remember her childhood dates etc. The one who sent me hundreds of emails and photos of the little girl she has since adopted. My study and kitchen were full of photos of Hannah that I will always keep, photos sent by Lisa. At the top of this blog you will read one of the notes she wrote, not an early one, not a recent one but one when she was married to her 2^nd husband and happy with her family and me as part of it. The tone is the same in most of her previous notes and letters.

We fell out because she had asked me to complete and sign a form that was not true. Those of you who have read my very first blog know what happened and so does Lisa.

After this she would regularly write and TELL me not to post photos of the past, with her or her sons, my grandchildren, on my social media. They are my memories and nothing can change that. At first I removed posts, then I didn’t. After my last 2 blog entries she has commented lies, threats and malicious gossip but has ‘published’ a letter ‘supposedly’ from her dad, and used it as her profile picture. This saddens me that she would do such a nasty thing. The last comment she wrote on my blog,was libelous and so I did not approve it.

So here I am writing a counter blog if you like. Hasn’t the past few years been enough! Haven’t we as a family seen enough pain? Haven’t I seen enough pain? I don’t want this but have tried everything to end it. To get her to remember how it actually was. How happy she had always been as a little girl. How much I loved her. The picture above is from her memory box, to me. I know they are possibly the lyrics of a song but she sent them me with her love. How can people re write history because their true history does not ‘fit in’ with how they or others want it to? Or to hurt someone? Why?. I am not angry. I am sad.

Unconditional love should go both ways. She knows how hard life was for me. She knows who her dad is, why did she write to him if she didn’t? I don’t know. If she really believes the lies she is spreading then a DNA test would show the truth. This blog is to say, give it up please. These words are the truth and Lisa and I know that. There is no other way of saying it. She wants nothing to do with me. Why? Because I know the truth and that is written, in brief above. Turning people, my grandsons against me with lies is unforgivable but I know why and who is behind all of this.

I am tired now. Tired of the family in fighting. Tired of being maligned and threatened. Tired of being gossiped about. Tired of being told what I can and can’t post. I am her Mum. I am Nanna P, to Harrison and Jordan. Nothing can change that. If she really wants me out of her life, then she would leave me alone. The little girl I was so proud of, the child who comforted me and dried my tears so many times. The one who listened to my life story, while I sat in her cottage and told her of my life, just before my book came out. who then came round the table to hug me so tight it almost hurt. The child and woman who wrote so many times to tell me what a wonderful mum I was and am; she wouldn’t do this to me.

Sometimes life gets out of hand, we become angry. I use anger, ‘angry is sad’s bodyguard’, is something I know too well. At times like this we say all kinds of things not meant. But I never say anything that is not true and never say anything to deliberately hurt someone. I thought my children would inherit this from me, the way I taught them. It seems with Lisa I was wrong.

Thankyou for reading x