Author: carolannwright

I began this blog last week, Wednesday to be exact when I first began to notice the changes in David. I hadn’t really thought about them before but on that day, they were evident and hence the beginning of this blog.

He is recovering very well, back to doing all the things he has always done. So is happier in himself and feels, in his words, ‘normal again’. As all of you reading this will know, PC changes a person, a couple in many ways. We don’t change by choice but it is thrust upon is. I must have read everything there was ever written about this nasty disease, cancer with a little ‘c’. That meant I was ready if that’s ever possible and thought my husband was as well. We talked about the physical side of our relationship and the most important thing to us both is that he survived and we were still together. We also knew that at first, the incontinence could be an issue and he has dealt with that so much better than I had expected. He is almost back to normal with this and that makes him feel more in control, pardon the pun, so more of a man. We have even had a few laughs about this, documented in previous blogs. He has been amazed at words I have used for the first time, words I have for the 300 years we have been together, avoided. This has been a source of amusement for him as I had always, apparently, appeared quite a prude. After surgery for PC ‘prude’ is not possible.

But back to the ‘change’ in my title. They have dawned on me slowly over the past few weeks really. I am so proud of how he has handled everything but have noticed how sometimes pre occupied he is about the future. Our future, hence us house hunting. He is planning an easier life, less to do, more time for us both to think of each other. He has talked of all the wasted time, time stolen from us through family feuds, nasty times that we have wasted because of others attempts to bring me down. I am the one with the ‘what ifs’. It is me who constantly thinks of the future, not David. But that has changed. He has changed. He worries about what might happen if something happens to him. He has always said in defiance of death and illness that he has to live to 96 years of age, to recoup his pension! To get back what he paid in to the MOD. We often laughed about this. But not now. He needs to make sure I am okay, hence the downsizing. Something I talked about a few years ago but that he wouldn’t contemplate. He is behaving as though he is getting old. Age has always just been a number and he has never felt old or acted old until now. I know we are all getting there, older I mean, but he has refused to accept his for as long as I have known him. He never used to stop, never took breaks whilst doing jobs but foes now.

Before his diagnosis, we bought a new kitchen, as we had thought we would stay here for the rest of our lives but now he is installing the kitchen with a view to moving. The kitchen come breakfast room, is 30′ long and around 12′ wide, so no easy task but it is looking amazing. So really this is not behaving ‘old’ but I know he often thinks it. I often find him sitting, almost slumped in his chair, looking tired, looking sad. I know that way of sitting, I must show him this so many times, he is in the ‘what if’s’ thought where I try not to go but can’t avoid it sometimes.

Another change is that he asks me to go to every appointment with him now, something that is new. He has not had reason to visit our GP very often, if at all before his routine tests that showed his raised PSA, but now we go everywhere together. I don’t mind of course, but another change. I always knew things might change but didn’t expect my husband to change. Stupid I suppose because it is him who had the disease, the surgery and is recovering, not me and I have changed I know that. I suppose I just didn’t expect it or allow myself to think it might happen. He is still the funny, loving, most times happy David who still shows his love for me every day, so what does a little change matter.

As I have said in last week’s blog, life has dealt us many blows these past few years. My family has hurt me, betrayed me, tried hard to ruin me and through all of that David has not faltered. He has loved me, held me and pulled me through with his quiet strength and sense of humour. We will get through anything together, we have proved that many times. He has never doubted my ability, when lies were told and my career was on hold, he encouraged me and helped me rebuild it and get back on top. Despite the lies that have since been disproved, that awful time is behind us or at least I am trying hard to put it there, it still hurts. .He has held me through the night, softly blotting my tears on the many occasions they fell and held me so tightly I knew I would be okay. He is still my rock. Now it’s my time to do the same for him. Not because of family but because of cancer with a little ‘c’. A tiny letter with huge consequences.

When PC first touched our lives, I knew it was my turn to step up and it was hard. I was still very unwell and had been left very low because of the previous few years but I was determined to be there for the man I love. Wasn’t sure I could be but promised myself I would do everything I could to make this horrible time as easy as possible. The nasties from family had been stopped so life became a bit easier from that point of view. David never complained, took it all in his stride and reassured me when I had my little wobbles. I tried to keep them from him but we are too close to be able to do that. You will know from previous blogs, of my ups and downs, my screaming, shouting and swearing at cancer. My fears, my doubts and my ‘what ‘ifs’. My wonderful husband, never showed any emotion throughout the tests, the waiting and the pre op. It wasn’t until he woke from the anesthetic, which I have told in detail in earlier blogs, that he took my hand to his lips and I saw tears. Later that day he told me he had thought he wouldn’t wake up after the op. He had thought our kiss before he went down would be the last time he saw me. I was shaken and felt I had let him down because he had not felt able to voice that to me. He had kept something so scary to himself. I understand now, it was because he loved me. He didn’t want me to worry about his fear.

There is a positive to the changes in my beloved husband and one is that he seems to understand how all the family ‘stuff’ had affected me. He often said he didn’t, that he couldn’t understand why I let the horrid things my daughter and sister were doing and had done to me, touch me as they had. Last week he said he did. I told him he was getting soft in his ‘old age’, he smiled a kind of sad smile and agreed.

So these changes to my man have been happening but life has been carrying on, I had almost forgotten about the past few months in the excitement of looking for a new forever home, having family back in my life and looking to the future with hope and excitement. That’ll teach me. When we arrived back from a day house hunting on Friday, there it was on the mat. A letter asking David to attend his Consultant’s clinic for his 6 monthly check up. It was like being kicked very hard in the chest. I felt numb. I asked David how he felt he just said he hadn’t realised it had been 6 months already. He knew it was coming and so that’s fine. Fine! I wanted to shout. How is it fine? How is any of this fine? All the ‘what if’s came flooding back like a torrent of water and I felt I would fall apart. I don’t understand why I was surprised or shocked, like David I knew it was coming but had worked so hard on being positive, being strong I had forgotten to work hard at being prepared!

The post op test had said the cancer was less aggressive than the consultant had thought and there were no indicators that he hadn’t got everything out. David’s PSA was undetectable. He was happy that David would be fine so why am I worried? I have been here before. Post biopsy, David had no previous symptoms and so I thought the biopsy would be clear. I wasn’t prepared for us being told he had cancer and I almost fell apart. So perhaps, just perhaps, my mind is just not taking anything for granted and that is why the ‘what ‘if’s are back, I am not sure. What I do know is that I need to be strong, hold on tight and know that whatever Friday brings, at the clinic, we will be in it together. Easy to say but harder to put into practice. The being strong I mean, not facing whatever, together. We will always do that.

So PC, BRING IT ON. We are ready for you, together we will be okay, David knows it and I must try and believe it.

Thanks for reading x

And now the postscript:

I apologise to anyone who finds this wrong to write on here, but I have no choice. I have to put a stop to this.

This is for someone I know reads my blog, I don’t understand why she does but know she does and this is the only way I can say this as she won’t talk to me direct.

You have chosen to live outside of our lives and I have at last accepted that. Stop trying to cause me trouble by spreading lies, stop involving people who you have nothing to do with, by asking them to give me messages. The issues mentioned have no foundation and you know that. You have already, last year, spread these lies on social media and on my blog. My life is currently hard, I don’t need any more stress thank you. We, my family here, don’t want this kind of intimidation, cruelty and gossip. Our lives are hard enough as you know. If you have something to say to me, please be big enough to tell me, not people who you contact just to cause pain and hurt. The person you involved has enough going on in their lives without you trying to involve them in your petty drama. You chose the outside and as much as it hurts, please stay there and get on with your life as I am trying to do and leave those I love alone.

One year ago today, I wrote a blog on here ‘Memories and Fairytales’. It was at a horrible time and I won’t repeat the sentiments, some of you will remember some won’t but can go back and read it if you feel you would like to. It received a nasty comment that I hadn’t until today allowed, from a young ‘family’ member who knows nothing about me or my life; except what she has been told by those who, at the time, wished me everything bad because of my honesty. She was someone, who when part of my life, many years before, I was very fond of. I have no animosity toward her.She made fun of my calling my life a Fairytale. Well if she had known about me and my history she would have understood, why I wrote, that my life with David was indeed a fairytale ,after the nightmares of the early parts.A Fairytale I could only dream of as a child.

Although this  blog,is again, not very much about PC, it is about my Journey, the reason for the blog. Illness and cancer with a little ‘c’ does not come in isolation. It doesn’t care how you are, previous to its existence or how much you have to deal with without its presence. No, it just barges its way into your life and wreaks havoc in a huge way and in every part of your life! I have told of some of the heartache prior to David’s diagnosis and this past week the memories of those, have come back in a very real way and reminded me of things I would like to forget. This past year has been a catalyst for change. The 4 years before had made everything a little different, wearing away at my safe, my peace of mind. Not all at once but stealing it all the same. Stealing the magic from my fairytale tiny piece by tiny piece. Every nasty, dulling the sparkle, taking the magic and tarnishing everything in its way.

In 2009 I published my autobiography and it went straight to Number One in the Nielsen charts, staying in the top ten for months. It was unexpected, hugely surprising and yes, exciting. Although the story was anything but, the readership and reviews etc were amazing and I was both humbled and happy to have shared and helped so many. All of my family were with me 100% and shared my success. The following year, the book selling in 4 countries and still doing amazingly well, I wrote the second book which was and is still a success. Life with David  and my youngest daughter was blissful. Hard work as we had horses and rescued ponies, dogs and cats and lived on a small holding in Monmouthshire. But blissful even so. We moved to West Wales to have more land to be able to take on more rescues and that part is history and well photographed on my social media. Also to be close to the coast. I drove people mad with my constant joy of looking out of every window of my new home at the glorious country side views. The beauty of nature, the lake and ponds full of wildlife. We grew fruit and vegetables and lived an amazingly happy life. The only down part was being such a long way from my eldest daughter Lisa and her sons. But we spoke every day on the phone, sometimes many times. She was happy fostering and looking forward to adopting one of her charges, a tiny baby girl. Hannah So more happiness for us here , a new granddaughter. The house is 1920’s and we set about renovating it, taking it back to its period and making it look like a 20’s home. I was working in my much-loved job as a Psychotherapist and life was wonderful. A fairytale.

Moving here was about ridding ourselves of a mortgage and having enough land to sustain our horses. West Wales was the place we chose. I knew I would like it but didn’t know how much I would love it. Our dream home. Peaceful, quiet, full of wildlife, Geese in the Spring and Summer, Mallards all year round and other water birds. An abundance of wild birds and the hugest of skies. Looking out at night, at the non light polluted heavens was magical and amazing. Often when I looked up to the stars and the brightest of moons, I would tell myself that Lisa and her family, Tony and his family could also look up at the skies and would see the same moon and the same stars so we were not that far apart. Silly yes, but comforting. The dogs loved it here, so did our little cats, we have also gained two barn cats who will stay with us now for life. They chose us, so who are we to turn them away. Life was too good to be true. I know that now.

In 2012, my beloved horse Star died. That, it seems, was the beginning of a downward spiral of horrible events that continued to this day. I had posted her death and my feelings on Facebook and also on my author age, little knowing that this would have dire consequence. A young girl wrote telling me she had and was being sexually abused and needed my help. She begged me not to tell the police and spoke tome in confidence, knowing that as well as an author, she had read my book, she knew that as   a Psychotherapist, she could talk to me without my telling anyone.I became entrenched in a nightmare of sexual abuse stories, tales of brutality, depravity, rape and CSA that almost lost me my sanity. All carried out over email, 7000 over 6 months; 24/7 telephone calls and emails and hundreds of pictures and photos of the depraved acts this person was supposedly subjected to. I understand now how this happened as I was heartbroken and vulnerable at this time. I hadn’t grieved for my loss and was at a low ebb.I tried hard to get out of it but every-time I did, the young person involved threatened suicide and went missing. Her ‘mother’ would contact me and plead with me to talk to her daughter. Every time, wanting to keep her safe, I relented not knowing that it was my own emotional safety that was at risk. This ended in  nasty court case where she was found guilty and punished. David and Marie were supporting me as much as they could but because of my profession I kept most of what was happening to myself. I was also holding on to the unresolved grief for Star. Lisa would ask what was wrong when we spoke on the phone but I couldn’t tell her.

In 2013, because I disagreed with the way Lisa treated a foster child, as I have told on here in previous blogs, she cut me out of her life. Said I was ‘dead’ to her. So I lost her, my grandsons and my new granddaughter. It broke and still breaks my heart. From that day on I have been the butt of cruelty and bullying on social media and by email, from her, some of my ‘family’ and my youngest sister who again, I have spoken about on here. She came barging back into our lives after 40 years of no contact, no knowledge of my family,trampling over everyone in her path and pounding our emotions without a care.

The next few years, brought more emotional bullying, that wore me down. Marie had a serious illness and we nearly lost her.  She then became engaged to be married, to our delight was pregnant but sadly lost her child. Our grandchild. Horrible time. She has since married and that is possibly the only good thing in the years talked about today.

The year of the nasty hoax, 2012, my best friend Mo lost her fight with cancer and a few years later so did my eldest sister. My brother-in-law had died a few years before. In the next few years we lost 3 more ponies, all rescued and all quite young. It was a sad and scary time for everyone.  We thought that was it. We thought life had dealt us every blow but then back it came, another nightmare, the biggest in our lives up until that day: last year, just as we were emotionally adjusting to this life, with its ups and downs, it’s losses that were great, my beloved husband is diagnosed with Prostate cancer. Our lives turned on their heads, devastation set in at first but we kind of coped with help, not from family but from groups on Facebook who had been through all of the nasties PC can bring. He had surgery in February this year and during his recovery, another huge blow, my brother Tony, the only constant in the whole of my life since childhood, is diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. I was at rock bottom. Living so far away and not in good health myself, David still in recovery, at first I couldn’t visit but have managed this once in recent months. We talk at least twice a week. Not the same but something.We had come to West Wales with two cats, brother and sister, very emotionally close to each other, in October 2016 sadly and suddenly our little girl Bookie Rose, died. Luther was grief-stricken and we almost lost him. David had surgery a month after our little dog Ellie Mae had surgery, both for cancer, David is recovering, not completely out of the woods yet but hopeful but Ellie’s cancer is now inoperable. While all of this was happening, last year the bullying online continued but has now stopped, I am happy to say, but the legacy of lies by the perpetrators lives on. I have not been able to work for the past few years, everything taking its toll on my health . People have noticed how I have changed. David says I have lost my sparkle. Lost my sense of fun and enjoyment. I certainly lost my sense of self-esteem and self-confidence,I know that.I think I just lost my way. So now, after the worst few years of our time together,we have decided to downsize and move. So easy to say, just a couple of words but with such huge consequence and we would be leaving our dream home. Where we were living our Fairytale.

To have sparkle, you have to have had the belief in the magic of life. Have the belief and the ability to live and love. The ability, even after being hurt, to believe that good will overcome bad, hope,that love will overcome hate. Like in a fairytale. As a child, I always hoped. I hoped things that were nasty would stop. I believed in fairies for far too long. I had to . If monsters existed, as I had proof they did, then why couldn’t fairies? Meeting David, that hope for happiness had been fulfilled in ways I had never thought possible. Hope had not let me down that time. We were so happy, so much in love. We are still very much in love so we can be happy as we were, once again. 25 years before it began to be damaged, to be tarnished. 25 happy fairytale years.

This past two days, we have been looking at houses with a view to move. At first, a few weeks ago, it was exciting but yesterday I found it scary and sad. It has become increasingly clear how much we love it here. Giving up on this dream is going to be hard. Only this morning David said that a huge part of him never expected ever to leave this beautiful place, the place we love. It was our dream come true. Our forever home. Not many get to fulfil that kind of dream, we are lucky. After 25 happy years we came here, expecting to be a happy. Maybe we asked or expected too much I don’t know. But happy we were. We were pleasantly surprised at how much we loved being here surrounded by our horses and how much we enjoyed this way of life and this pace of life. I think we both always thought we would never leave. I have bombarded Facebook with photos of the gardens, the views, the wildlife and I am sure bored many with the postings.

So yesterday I felt very low but today, not quite as much. It isn’t the building that makes us happy. It isn’t the people in my life now who have ruined my happiness. It is those who have now shut me out. But that’s okay, who would want people who  only know how to lie, who hurt, who hate, in their life? I don’t, I have those who love me,right here by my side. None of this was my choice but it is how it is.

The other nasty, cancer with or without a little ‘c’ is always a risk for us all. Maybe it will comeback, who knows if it’s actually gone? The people who have ruined things for us both here, the ones who have tried hard to ruin me professionally and failed, they have a lot to answer for but they will not win. Yes it’s true I lost my way, couldn’t see the beauty from my windows for a long while, couldn’t enjoy being here for months and months, but you are not going to steal my future with my wonderful man.

Why?

Because, I have never been a quitter!

Those who know who they are, those who have done their best to ruin my life, I am still here! Still fighting! You failed.

As for cancer or any kind, you will not destroy the essence of me. You have done your best over the past 2 years damn you! But you haven’t succeeded. You won’t break me. You won’t break us! We will survive anything life throws at us, our track record of doing so speaks for itself.

We will move house, to make life better and easier for David. The reality is, that yes,our dreams have been shattered. Our Fairytale turned into many nightmares. But. We will build another life. Have other dreams and my Fairytale will begin again. somewhere else but continue it will.

Thankyou for reading x

Thursday 27th July is imprinted in my mind forever. It was the day, one year ago when our world turned on its head. The day we entered a different world and not by choice. Our happy, love filled life together as a couple, despite family trying their best to destroy it, changed to a life lived on the edge. The days of relaxation with our animals, long walks with our dogs and time in the house and garden at our own pace, changed to  weeks full of doctor’s appointments, tests, hospital visits and lots and lots of waiting. Yes we were still here ‘on the farm’, nothing had changed….. Everything had changed. With 3 little words, from a doctor who looked as though he should still have been in school, we were sent  into a place we didn’t ask to go, a place we didn’t want to be and where we couldn’t find the path back. Back to the normality that over the past few long years we had fought hard to retain.

The trouble with an illness like cancer is, that it is just that. Yes it is an illness that  I can identify with so much. But ‘cancer’ has another definition in the dictionary.

“an evil or destructive practice or phenomenon that is hard to contain or eradicate claims so many lives”

It is a blight and can spread, it’s treatment is often exhausting, scary and sometimes cannot control the spread. No wonder the biggest emotions it evokes is Fear. At least, it is for me. It is also an illness that spreads beyond the symptoms themselves. It spreads into the very being of the sufferer and their families, particularly their wives or partners. Spreads and spreads. Gives little or no peace of mind,, no that was stolen at the diagnosis. I haven’t found it again as yet.

The legacy of PC that I struggle with , is the ‘what ifs’. Sometimes these can come crashing down on me and I am lost. I try to plan ahead. All the things we had begun to do, even when life was fraught, as it was pre cancer, with family stuff weighing us down. Last year, when cancer with a little ‘c’ stopped us so violently, from doing the things we had begun,we are now trying to do. Looking to downsize. To get on with our lives. I want to go  back to the work I love and was good at, that stopped while I was fighting for my reputation and writing career last year. We need to move on now, whatever that might mean, after David’s surgery, even though we know we may not be out of the woods yet. I try to be positive. I thought I was winning. I really believed life was getting better. I have gone back to writing my 4th book, made arrangements for my Private Practice to resume. I was pushing ‘c’ away with the same violence it hit us with . Yes I thought for a while I was winning.

But.  It is always there; the empty place setting at the table. The elephant in the room. The spectre at the feast. There. Right there in front of me everywhere I turn. I can’t rid myself of the memories, the dread, the ‘what ifs’ but mostly the Fear.

Sometimes after a ‘good’ day, I manage  to relax. I can sit with my beloved husband, my cat on my lap and our two little dogs next to us. Just being together, close. Sometimes, not often, but sometimes I actually find myself laughing. Yes laughing. Then suddenly, as though something in my head clicks in and shouts, ‘What are you doing laughing? What have you got to laugh about? How long will this last? How can you be happy?’ I am back there. Like a slap in the face I am back there. Back with the waiting. For tests. For results. For post surgery etc. etc. Once again my old familiar, yet unwanted companion is back, gripping hold of me in case I try to run. My worst enemy, from childhood, from the past few years and most of all since David’s diagnosis, the ‘F’ word rears its ugly head and has the last word. Fear has a vicious hold on my fragile being.

Yes the legacy or one of them, of this nasty disease, is that fear can return so quickly with no warning. The ‘what if’s’ are never far away. Association, something I have written about on here before, is so powerful and can throw you back to the depths of despair where you have already been on the journey that is Prostate cancer.

We had to see our GP at the end of this week gone. I have a poorly wrist and so have been for X-rays etc. David has a small lump on the side of his nose. He had it scraped a years ago but it is now back and bleeding. Our GP read the histology from back then and calmly told us it was cancer. The gift that keeps on giving is here again! Although we know it is a basal cell carcinoma, not dangerous unless it is left, and although  we know it can’t kill; just  the word ‘cancer’ was enough to send my mind spinning. Back to last year. Back to my brother curently suffering from terminal cancer. Back to all the friends and family I have already lost to this destructive evil force. Couldn’t stop it. my mind I mean. Had no control over where it went or how speedily it went there. Fear was evident and I had to hold on so tightly to keep ahead of this latest nasty, to hit us head on. Just by implication it was enough to bring my mood down and the worry back big time.

David? He was just a bit annoyed, more doctors ,more hospital appointments more treatments and more waiting. At first I thought we should put off the search for our next home. Wait and see what this latest news brings. Wait and see what the ‘what ifs’ bring. But then I thought, this tiny little letter of the alphabet, ‘c’, has already stolen so much of our lives, our time. We will not allow it to steal anymore.  I have to remove its power to control and hurt us as I have done in the past in situations that were painful. Remove the power. Maybe Carol Ann was still there. Maybe a tiny piece of her old positivity and resolved broke through, who knows.

The end of next month, David will have his 6 month PSA. We are of course hoping against hope that it is still undetectable but if not, we will face it together as we have done everything in the past. He is now waiting for surgery to remove the cancer on his face. We can’t ‘waste ‘ anymore time. We can’t let this illness, cancer, dictate anymore of our life. I have to dismiss the legacy of fear and fight back. I don’t know if I can because I feel quite fragile but know I have done it in the past and so should be able to do it again. I have to be positive against all odds.

So.

I will go back to work. I will finish my current book. We will finish renovating and we will find our next home. We will fool any illness that tries to get the better of us and this includes cancer with a little ‘c’. Somehow.

Me? I must throw out the ‘F’ word, with the rest of the rubbish that has come my way in the past 3 years and live for David and for today. Sounds so easy. I know it won’t be. Yes today is a bad day. Yesterday spent with my daughter was a good day. Maybe from now on, the better days will become my norm. Let’s hope.

Thankyou for reading. x

Last evening was fraught, with a very poorly pony and so I didn’t watch a program, that every season I say I won’t watch. Long Lost Families. But David being thoughtful captured it and I watched it today. I love the program don’t get me wrong but it brings back so many memories of one of the hardest times of my life. There is always a Mum searching for a child who was taken from her for adoption and last night was no exception. The presenters are so good at supporting the people filmed although sometimes I feel the reunions are intrusive but I suppose they are done with the characters permission and would not make life-like stories if they didn’t. But I do find them hard to watch at times. I love seeing people re united, love seeing siblings who had no idea of each other existing, meeting for the first time. But seeing a Mum find her child whom she had adopted sometimes years and years before, meet that child and hug them. I have to fight hard to hold back tears that I have recently discovered I can shed.

Today, with so much help out there for single mums, for those who find themselves pregnant and desperate, I hope more babies stay with their birth mum, have contact with their birth family than in the past. I know it is hard today for people who are of a different generation, to understand the difficulties a woman faced if not married and pregnant. Or pregnant and not able to support a baby due. In my day, in the early ’70’s there was nothing. There was shortage of babies for adoption, especially blue-eyed blonde baby boys I was told at the time, but no financial support and no counselling or help of any kind. If you didn’t have a family around you, as I didn’t, there was only one way, adoption. Many children were ‘removed’ for other reasons, perhaps Mum was poorly and deemed unwell and so unable to care for her child. Sometimes the birth mum was persuaded that in the baby’s best interest she should let her babe go to adoption. Sometimes as in my case, she may have other children or another child and told that she risked losing all of her children if deemed not well enough to care for them. These children are often referred to, as ‘stolen children’.

I was divorced when I became pregnant by someone I trusted and who turned their back on me. I had a 3 year old daughter who was my world, my blessing. Lisa Jayne. I was ill with worry and had no one to help me, I agreed at that stage to have my baby adopted. My son was taken from me in hospital and I went home alone. I soon realised that this was wrong and was distraught. I found him and brought him home. Soon after, I collapsed, the worry, the withdrawal from GP prescribed medication had taken their toll and I was very poorly.GP was called and the wheels were in motion to remove my beautiful blue-eyed baby boy, Jonathan, whom I loved with all of my heart and have him adopted. As sick as I was I fought this, on my own. But I was made to make a choice that was no choice. Either try to keep them both and risk them being taken into care as I was unwell. To let them both be adopted which was unthinkable. Or to allow my son to go for adoption and keep my daughter.I couldn’t lose my daughter, my blessing. As I said, no choice. I had him for a further 2 weeks knowing I couldn’t keep him, a bit like one of the Mums in last nights program. Making it so very hard to let him go. I didn’t ‘give him up’, I didn’t ‘let him go to a family’, he had a family. He had me and Lisa. He was taken and that day left me on the ground outside of my bungalow, screaming after the car drove off with my precious baby.

So you can see why I find this program Long Lost Families hard but hope you can understand why I feel compelled to watch. To see Mums like me reunited with their lost children. Or maybe you can’t. I hopemy daughter watches it and can see how difficult it is for mums to be parted from their children without choice.

One thing in last nights episode that made me think, was how the presenter seemed so surprised that the birth mum had marked her lost baby’s birthday in her diary, every single year. How she would tell her other children about him, how she didn’t go one single day without thinking about him. Why the surprise? She carried him for 9 months, he had heard her heartbeat from the inside.  No subsequent children would ever take his place, each child brings their own love. I did all of this. I have always had a photo of my son on my mantle piece. Lisa and Marie have always known about him and in 1992, after Social service apologising for the way I was treated, they located him and we were reunited. I have a relationship with him now but missed so much.

Adoption back then was final. I was asked if I would write my son a letter, that his new parents would give him that when they thought he was ready. They also promised to give him the last set of clothes and bootees I bought him and a soft toy elephant that he pulled from the pram the day he was taken. They did none of this. I understand why. I don’t want to but I do. In the past I have given talks to would be adopters, adopted children and adoptive parents. I always say, let the child know about their history. Tell them about their mum and dad if you know anything. If you bring them, up with love, this won’t hurt your relationship with them, it will only help in the future,especially if they want to contact their family. It will show their child how much you love them. But as I said, I know why the adopters don’t do this. In my own case,Yes they asked for my letter and yes I believe they meant at that time, to give these things to Jonathan, their now son. But as time goes on, the last person they want to think about is me. The baby becomes theirs and they want to have no past for him only the life he has with them. I understand but that doesn’t make it right.Yes he is theirs now but he was mine once and I don’t just go away. The adopters are overjoyed. The baby is hopefully happy and unaware that life is anything but happy. The mum who gave birth to their child is grieving sometimes for the rest of her life. As I said, ‘we’ don’t just ‘go away’.

Modern adoption is supposedly open. I do hope it is. Children have the right to know where they come from, what kind of people their birth families were. They need to know how the adoption came about and why. But above all, they need to be told that their mum loved them. How can being told anything else be good for any child?

I can’t say I am proud because I ‘gave my son up for a better life or to be part of a family’. He had us, we were and now again are, his family. I wish I could but that would mean I did this out of choice and I didn’t. Do I regret this happening, yes and will do for the rest of my life. Yes I am grateful to his parents and glad he was happy but how can I be happy about not having those years I missed with him. So regrets yes but grateful that he understands and doesn’t judge me. Glad that I now have my son back in my life and we share a bond and a love.

There is and always will be a place for adoption and I admire those who choose this path but am glad that now, under the new law, that, every child will have the right to know where they came from.

Why have I written this today?? I have read on Social media, people criticising the program. Don’t watch it if this was you. I have heard people saying it is not true life. It is. That babies were not ‘taken ‘ from their mums, maybe not today, but they were, I know only too well. I read that ‘birth mums have all the support they need and no child needs to go to adoption’. Perhaps that is true today but it hasn’t always been.

I think this progamme is done very well. It provides endings and beginnings for the families involved. Sometimes the person the searched for has died and that is heartbreaking as in last night’s story, but the young woman involved met her sister and that was wonderful to see.

These programs are not for everyone but, for me,they remind me of a horrid time but one I will never forget. But also gives me hope for the families reunited and happy again in the peace of finding their lost loved ones. It can also provide much-needed and overdue endings, in one way or another. How can that be wrong.

I hope the team,keep it up, keep reuniting those who seek the help and have happy ending, even after many many years. Sometimes it happens.

Thanks for reading .x

Slightly different blog this week but still part of My Journey. Please bear with me.

One of the things I find so wrong with people, is the way they are always so willing to judge. As part of my Professional Ethics, I have to be non judgmental but this was something I was long before I trained as a Psychotherapist. I always gave people the benefit of the doubt, even if I was told they were ‘no good’, ‘dishonest’ etc. I would always give them a chance to prove to me, that what I had been told was not true. Sometimes however, I was proved wrong and those who had ‘warned’ me would say ‘I told you so!”But that is how I am, trusting until someone has hurt me or mine, or shown me that they are not who I believed them to be. How can I judge what I don’t know? What gives me that right? I have had reason this week to think about this a lot and hence this blog.

I had one of my 2 weekly calls with my brother Tony and it was a good phone-call. Although his condition hasn’t changed, he was quite upbeat and teasing, just as he always used to be. We talked a bit about my sister June and neither of us know why she won’t talk to me. We were always close until lies were told to her and sadly, because of who told her and her need to fit in, they were believed and she was taken in.I always ask Tony to give her my love because it doesn’t depend on being loved back, it is just that I love her. I know she has been fed stories that are not true as all of my family have but with her I make allowances as she is vulnerable and easily swayed by certain people around her.  Yes it upsets me because I have never been able to talk to her and tell her the truth of this horrid situation.

Then I spoke with my nephew Paul, my late sister’s son. We chat every month and I keep in touch with him for her. We began talking about his dad David and then David’s mum whose house the ‘boys’ still live in. He knew nothing about her and so I enjoyed telling him what I remembered of this kind country woman who was so good to my sister. Paul asked what his mum was like as a girl, what we were like as a family growing up and why we were not all close now. He didn’t understand why some don’t talk to me and why none now talk to my youngest sister Trisha. I could only tell him what I knew. Tony had told her why , as he knew it and how betrayed he felt by her and my daughter. The conversation I found the hardest was when he asked me why my Trisha, calls my daughter Lisa, her daughter and my grandchildren her grandchildren. Paul knew Lisa when she was a little girl and we often visited his mum and Paul and his brother.This part of the conversation was very hard for me. He wants me to put it right as Georgina had wanted and I had to say that I had tried and failed. He still didn’t understand and how could I explain when I don’t either. This brought me to think about how family members have chosen not to ‘know’ me now, based on the lies told them. They have judged me on gossip, untruths and stories that the perpetrator told them. No one has ever asked my side. No-one has stopped and remembered the things I did for them before all of this gossip began. Thought about the kind of person I have always been. Even thought of how Tony loves me for my honesty ,although he often makes fun of me for it. How he trusted my daughter because she was my daughter.He has always known I would never judge them on stories told , I would take them as they behave to me and those I love. Yes I ‘over reacted’ when this was all going on but it all happened at a time we were having tests, biopsies etc for the cancer David was diagnosed with. So yes I shouted down the phone on one occasion. Yes I retaliated on social media to nasty remarks written about me. For which I have apologised over and over.Who wouldn’t? That doesn’t make me a bad person and no one had the right to judge me when they didn’t know the truth. One person’s side is never the whole truth.

People in general judge too quickly and too often. Yes judge those we know to be wrong or guilty of a crime. Judge those we know, by the actions towards us and others. But only judge based on facts and not gossip or untruths.  We judge too often. Judge too freely. Judge too quickly with nothing to back it up. Without knowing the facts.

So this week, with the phone-call to my nephew in the for-front of my mind, I came onto my computer and read some quite scathing reports of a young singer who had committed suicide. People judging, people saying how selfish he was. How the act of suicide should still be a crime, how it is the most selfish act any one can do. Who are these judges? What right do they have to make this judgment? I didn’t know anything about Chester Bennington until his death, except that part of his story had come up whilst I was researching suicidal ideation a few years ago and how he had contemplated it. I wonder how many of those calling him a coward. Saying he was selfish. Writing that he had let his family down and should have ‘put up with whatever it was’, knew anything about this young man. No-one I would hope because if they had known, their remarks might have been slightly more compassionate. His life had been troubled since he was a child. After the break up of his parents marriage, at aged 11, he was sent to live with his father. He found the separation traumatic and began to mess around with amphetamines. He moved back to his mother’s aged 17 and she managed to get him clean. He was bullied at school for years and thrown around by older boys because of his tendency to be skinny. But the worst thing was , he was molested and raped on more than one occasion. Life was indeed very hard for this young man who went on to become the lead singer for a group called Linkin Park. Sexual trauma, separation trauma and drugs have a habit of feeding off each other. His demons never ever left him and one day last week, he could take no more. He committed suicide. Yes a waste of life, but peace for Chester.

Child trauma, especially sexual abuse stays with you. I know. Victims often suffer from depression, sometimes not even realising why. It is one of the most common of todays illnesses, called a modern affliction but has always been with us. Some get help, others don’t. Sometimes families can see what is happening, most times they can’t. I had a son-in-law who committed suicide, I never thought him cowardly. His life had changed and it was the only way he knew he would let my daughter Lisa, his ex-wife, to get on with her life. No choice. He said his goodbyes and over and over again, I wish I had had the knowledge I have today because I would have known the last time I saw him what he was going to do the next day. I may have stopped him.I don’t judge him, I think he was generous and brave and deeply depressed. What right would I have to judge?

Depression is on the increase. People are still suffering silently. We don’t have the extended families that we used to have. People move for work, families get split apart and the elders are not always able to help ,especially if not told. So the demons are kept in our heads and sometimes the only way to get rid of them is to take our own lives. I know this feeling and so do many reading this. When someone chooses to do this, they have tunnel vision. The thoughts of family, friends, etc. don’t enter their minds. There is no room. In their heads what they are about to do is the only rational thing. The only way.Their one intention to reach the light at the end of that tunnel and they are very calm. How do I know this? I have worked with survivors of suicide attempts and this is what they tell me. Some of these clients have been judged by family and alienated from them. So wrong and so unfair.

So in this blog I want to ask you all to think before you make judgment. Do you know all the facts? Whether it is something you want to comment on, on social media, or to someone who has retold you something about another person. Have you heard their side of the story, whatever it is ? Do you know what you are reading is true? Do you have the right to judge? In most cases we don’t.

I belong to a few groups on here and appreciate every comment, good or bad. However I don’t like being judged by people who know nothing about me or my life. This week, I have read a few posts from members on my PC groups who seem to be expecting to be judged for what they say. For how they feel. For decisions they make. Mostly wives or partners apologising for venting anger. Sadness. Fear or resentment. It is obvious some expect to be judged. I am happy to say they never are. The group members are understanding, supportive, and compassionate. Also, on this journey none of wanted to make, we know these feelings, these emotions and I say, we are allowed to have every single emotions we show. None of us wanted this. None of us expected this. None of us knew we would feel these emotions and feel them so strongly that sometimes we vent, swear, scream and are angry and scared. I do this more than most, on here. I don’t have anyone to vent to, so I come on here. Should I be judged for doing that? I don’t think so and I really hope not.Some partners,begin to feel differently towards those affected by this cruel disease. I understand all of this. They should never be judged. Our lives have changed with no input from us.We didn’t ask for it. We don’t need it. We don’t want it! Me? I wasn’t ready. I was a bit complacent and also entrenched in other nasty stuff when this cancer with a little ‘c’ reared its ugly head. So this was like the final thing that almost tipped me over the edge. I wasn’t ready but would I have ever been? Probably not. But the last thing we need is people’s judgment particularly as no one knows how this is for any of us. No one knows how it is for me.

So judging others is not in my remit and shouldn’t be in yours. In general we hear it all the time. We possibly may even do it, I hope I don’t but maybe sometimes, I might, not realising but never intentionally and never to hurt. If I have nothing good or honest to say, my creed is to say nothing. When you have walked in another’s shoes, when you have lived their life, when you understand their pain, you may know how they feel but you still shouldn’t judge. It’s only when you have done this, that you can truly understand where that person is coming from. We are all different. How you react may not be how others do. Judging them is not your place and it is not theirs to judge you.

Thankyou for reading x

Firstly today, I would like to just say how sorry I am for those who have lost loved ones to this horrid disease and give my love to those who are still struggling. I think when a member of the group leaves us, it affects us all and I know myself that my thoughts are with all of you who have suffered this in the past few weeks particularly.

Something I have always felt in my life, is the importance of saying Thankyou to those who deserve it and sorry to those I have hurt or upset. I realised today that I need to say this here, in my blog.

It has been a strange week. As some of you know, I am making memory boxes for my children, my grandsons and my grand-daughter. I will write each a letter, enclose photographs of them as children, photos of anything that meant anything in their lives with me. What came to light this week, is that I have very little to leave my son Jonathan as he was adopted as a baby and so his childhood is not known to me, sadly. I know one day he will ask questions about his birth father that when asked on our reunion, he didn’t want to know. I can’t leave it this way, I need to gather information on him and write about our relationship. I am sure one day he will want to know his heritage and so I am putting together a scrap-book for him of photos and press cuttings of the man who fathered him.

Part of this search has put me in touch with a lady who unknowingly played a huge part in my life at one of the worst times of my life. She proved to be a good friend and confidante when my own family didn’t want to know. She came round when I needed her, spent time with me and my daughter Lisa, who was 3 years old at the time and tried very hard to make things right with the father of my 2nd child Jonathan. She knows the truth, she was there and for that I will be eternally grateful. I was a mess after my son was taken from me, at a time when I was very ill and unable to care for myself properly. She tried her hardest to help me but when it was ‘over’ I moved away and we lost touch. I have always wanted her to know that I am reunited with my son but most of all to thank her. So Thankyou so much Sandy. I have never forgotten our friendship and glad to have been able to talk the other day. x

Over the life of this blog, ‘My Journey’, I have vented my anger, my pain and my fears. Those who have read it have shown me nothing but kindness and love. I Thankyou all. When I began this journey none of us wanted to take, I was already beaten down by family stuff and felt so fragile that I was scared I might break. And break I almost did as I have said on here before. David says how strong I have been throughout his first diagnosis and then surgery and recovery. I never showed him how I really felt. How I thought my life was in free fall and that I would soon hit the bottom. No. I did that in this blog and shared everything, warts ‘n all. Sorry if this has proved too much for some of you but Thankyou to everyone who has commented and shown love and support. What is it they say ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’. Well I believe that now. So I want to say Thankyou to my ‘family who I won’t name again as I have already done that in earlier blogs, but yes Thankyou for throwing all the nasties in my face because without them to make my resolve stronger and giving me the ammunition to find my fighting spirit, who knows if I would have known how to fight without your input. How strong would I have been if the last 3 years had been  as they should have been, full of love and kindness as I see in other families. Yes it was horrendous and painful and nearly brought me to my knees but who knows, perhaps it was like a practice run for me to be able to deal with real trauma, real worries and real pain. After all the rubbish you threw at me, I am still here when I thought I might have floundered. So again Thankyou, you made me strong.

Another Thankyou is to everyone on social media especially Facebook for allowing me this platform to vent, cry, scream and share. For all the likes, the comments, the posts that helped me and to everyone who has made me smile of which there are many. Thankyou.

And now the sorry’s.

Last year and the previous year, after the nasty comments on Facebook on Mothers day, I openly posted on Facebook, all my anger, my hurt and pain and all the nasties that were being showered on me. I did this because the people concerned made sure I couldn’t contact them directly. They posted horrible things on my page, sometimes in made up names like ‘Bonnie Bon’ and made sure I couldn’t contact them. Cowardly to the extreme. To keep myself safe, to prevent this from happening every-time I turned on my computer, I took all those concerned and those around them, off my page , off my lists but the nasties kept coming so I knew that somehow my page was being read. On realising this, I began writing my side of what was happening, and everything that I needed to reply to , on open Facebook and that was not right. So here I am apologizing. Saying sorry because it was private and personal and should have remained that way. My only excuse is that I was going through hell. With our fears around David and PC and my own ill-health, my daughter Lisa and her aunt trying their best to ruin me and my writing career, I didn’t think. So.  To my brother Tony who I love so much. The family still in touch with me.  I am sorry. To my niece Tina and her family, to every one of my FB friends and anyone else who read these posts. I am sorry. I have tried to put things right but failed so this is the only way I can say it.

My Fears for the future.

Next month David will see the consultant and will have had his PSA test. He is recovering well, no issues and has regained his strength. So why I am worried? I guess it is because I at first was concerned but had been reassured by the consultant as his levels were not that high, he had no symptoms and his MRI and Bone scan were clear. So going for the biopsy results I was fine. I have told the story if this appointment in a previous blog. I fell apart. My world turned on its head and all the nasties and , all the horrid onslaught by family of the preceding years faded into insignificance. ‘We found cancer’. 3 little words that threw me into blind panic. Life has been this Journey ever since.3 little words that completely floored me. David, as I have said in the blog referred to, was okay. Pragmatic to the letter.

So now, almost 5 months after surgery, David is well and I thought I was okay. But as August draws near, the ‘F’ word, is returning in force.  Fear is never far away. The ‘what ifs’ I had promised I wouldn’t allow in, are back. I asked my husband how he felt and he said he never thinks about it. If things are not as good as we want or need them to be, if the news is not good, we will deal with it. His words. He says he will not let what might happen influence life today. ‘We will deal with whatever comes’. What faith this man has in us. In himself yes, but in me? I have to live up to this. As I have said before, I have no choice I just hope, once again I can come through and be as strong as he thinks I am.  Over the years since 2012 especially, I have got into the way of expecting bad things to happen. They have. I have to once again work on staying or rather being positive. Being who my darling man thinks I am. Being who I sometimes see glimpses of, a strong woman. Strong Carol Ann. David says he sees her all the time. I only wish I could acquaint myself with this woman and then maybe the ‘what ifs’ will become something of the past. Perhaps I will ‘whistle a happy tune’ for those who know the King and I. Fooling others and therefore fooling myself.

I read a blog this week, one I always read by a friend on Facebook, a member of a group I belong to Mark Bradford. It was about how his friends dealt with him talking openly about his cancer and his prognosis. They were his close friends, his ‘inner circle’ and they were very honest in response and I felt this a useful exercise. I felt Mark learned a great deal. I admire his writing, his truth, his honesty and his faith.

As some of you will know, I have lost a sister, in the past few years to the dreaded cancer and now have my brother with terminal lung cancer. He lives in Hampshire and we can’t get down very often to see him. Distance sucks. I talk to him sometimes twice a week and we always make each other laugh. Something we have never lost over the years. 22 years ago Tony was diagnosed with an illness that affected his memory and we were told it would only get worse. His wife and I took him for a nuclear scan at Haslar hospital and were told that Tony had about 2 years to live. That his memory would decline and that his quality of life would not be good. Lin, his wife and I were devastated but Tony seemed fine. His memory is not bad. Not as bad as mine on some days. He has been ill and almost housebound for a while now but remembers everything about us as children, everything I tell him about life ‘here on the farm’ and so we enjoy some happy phone calls.  My reason for telling you this is that they were wrong. The doctors knew very little about the illness Tony suffered. Multiple Infarct Dementia and I am sure gave us the prognosis that they reached at that time. I am happy to say they were wrong. So my reason,  as I began to say, in telling this, is that I suppose, with everything that is happening, I am hoping they are wrong again. Wouldn’t that be good!

For a few years after we came to live in Wales, Tony and Lin his wife visited for holidays sometime 3 or 4 times a year. It was lovely having them and sharing the beauty of this lovely country with those I love. During these visit Tony often talked of his death, his funeral plans etc. and always managed to make us laugh. Not a funny subject but like me, Tony used humour to disguise how he really felt. We both do this now on the phone. Talking about this, hurt, of course it did but he needed to do that and we were okay to share this with him. He has a wonderful sense of humour and sometimes others don’t appreciate how we are able to laugh at each other and ourselves. I believe humour is a necessary part of every aspect of life if it is appropriate. I need to find my way back to this now.

So there you are . Some of the Thank you’s I needed to say. Some of the sorry’s also. At this time in my life I am realising my mortality. Seeing posts on SM about those who sadly lose their lives to illness of various kinds, but especially PC,throws me back to the fear of losing David. My own manner of dying and of those around me. Morbid? Maybe but happening. I think a cancer diagnosis , apart from the recovery etc. does this to a person. I never used to think about it; death, but do now. I read of strong people okay with their lot. Those who have a great faith, okay with whatever God throws at them. Well, forgive me but I am not.  The ‘F’ word unfortunately is stronger than that in my case. David’s op went well .His post op results were good. Not aggressive and no reason to think it would come back. So no reason to worry. When did I ever need a reason to worry??!! The past years it seems it is all I have ever done. I have searched and searched for the worry button so that I can switch it off as you can most things in this technical world. But to no avail. So worry I will I’m afraid.

Well that’s it for another week. Off now to feed my beloved ponies and walk the dogs. I will work hard on my positivity and try to bring that next time.

Thankyou for reading x

One of the things I will never forget on this long hard journey of mine, is the waiting. The initial waiting for the first PSA result. The waiting for the next 2 tests and results. Waiting for the appointment for the MRI. Then waiting for the results. Waiting in the next room for my husband after his biopsy and then the waiting for the results. Waiting for surgery and then spending the day in the day room waiting to see David after his operation. Waiting! Waiting! Waiting! . The fear was immense throughout, the what ‘ifs were always there entrenching me in thoughts I didn’t want to think. Being told my beloved husband had cancer was horrendous. My life seemed to spin out of control, our world turned upside down. David seemed fine, I was a mess.

So why would I want this for anyone else? Why would I want to tell someone that a relative of theirs had PC? Why would I do that? How could I do that? Did I want anyone to have this all engulfing fear I had suffered? Of course I didn’t. I even thought of keeping this whole ‘experience’ to myself, not tell those who needed to know. I didn’t know how to broach the subject.  I wasn’t sure the person concerned would even enter into conversation with me. David wasn’t sure I should tell him, thought keeping it to ourselves was the thing to do but I soon realized that this was not an option. That not telling would be wrong. So my husband said, as I had been the only person in contact with this young man, if I thought it right, then I was to let him know what had befallen my husband.Bad news is never something told easily, bad news after a 30 year estrangement was beyond comprehension. But it had to be done. As you know, this is my story, from my perspective and so it is also my decision to write about this and was my decision to make the call.

PC can run in families as you know, or maybe you don’t if you are not reading this as part of my groups. It doesn’t always follow but is often in siblings and father and son. How can you know you are at risk if you are not told? How can you try to prevent it taking hold? You can’t. Going through the past 2 years has been hell and No, I don’t want anyone else to have to make this journey. But the alternative, not to tell, not to give this  person a chance to catch it early, as hard as it was for him to hear and as hard as it was for me to tell him, it had to be done. But how do you tell someone, someone you only have a contact through private social media, and only 2 or 3 messages in 30 years,that his father had PC and that he needed to be tested?Not easily I can tell you. My heart was again breaking for the ‘what ifs ‘, this time,for my husband’s son.

For reasons I won’t go in for and not of my husband’s making, contact with his son ended when the lad was 11 years old. I have ‘spoken’ a few times, in the interim, trying  to get them together but have never succeeded. People are too ready to believe what others tell them and not listen to both sides and so things were never mended. David feels too many years have gone by now and they both agree that they would meet as strangers so have chosen not to do this and leave things as they are. I never in my life envisaged having to tell David’s son a thing like this, to be the bearer of bad news and didn’t want to rake up old wounds for either of them but I saw no other way. No choice. This wasn’t about me but about trying to give this young man a chance to catch something that he might have, at an early stage.  A chance to be rid of this cancer with a little ‘c’ if he had it while it is in the early stags. If he didn’t than that would be a bonus.

I will talk about PC and how it affects everyone close to the sufferer, to anyone who will listen. It is not a much discussed illness and needs to be, like Breast cancer. Men need to be aware, aware of any symptoms and aware of the availability of being tested.  I wanted so much to go and see David’s son but that wasn’t possible so I privately messaged him and asked him if he would like to know about something re his father’s health that was not good news and he said he would. I prepared him for the bad news and apologized for making contact to let him know about PC. Thankfully he was okay with being told and has promised me he will take the test. Now I have to trust he will do that. I have no control over what he does with this knowledge. Did it feel good I had ‘warned ‘ him? No. But it was the right thing to do. I know he has support around him, a partner and family and I have also said that I am always here. Now all I can do is let go.

We’ve all had to do this to one extent or another, tell the bad news, to family and friends and it is never easy. Sometimes it helps them understand  and sometimes helps us to share. In this day of families being spread either by distance or estrangement, that brings about its own difficulties. But I feel strongly, that if we can prepare others,  warn them to take tests etc. then it is the right, although sometimes very hard thing to do. If PC touches a family, it doesn’t mean every male member will be affected but it does mean they should be told. Prevention is better than cure and catching a disease early is often also a cure. Yes its hard telling those we love that they might one-day have an illness; that they may have seen us go through hell and back to deal with, but not giving them a chance to get tested and treated at an early stage, is not a choice. It is not about how uncomfortable it makes us feel it is about giving them every chance to beat this nasty cancer and any other illness that they need to know about.

As some if you may know, from earlier posts, my brother Tony has terminal cancer. My 2 sisters, my eldest who died a few years ago, also had cancer.  I have a pulmonary disease and other health concerns. I have a son who was adopted and who I am now in touch with. He has had many illnesses these past years, some serious and I have had to tell him about our family history. One of the worst things about children who don’t grow up with their birth families is the lack of knowledge of such things. Diseases, illnesses and health conditions. Today adoption is different. The parents history is recorded and given to the adoptive parents. This wasn’t done when my son was adopted, taken from me during a serious illness and placed with a family who knew nothing about his birth family and their health. I am so glad this is now not the case. My son now has all the information about my side of his birth family and has passed this onto his consultants. I hope it will help them be aware of the history and look for anything that might be passed on.

So now the next dilemma. Neither of us know anything about my son’s fathers illnesses etc. I went out with his Dad for almost a year but know very little about him after our son was born and he walked away.All I know is that he died many years ago and am now trying to find out as much about him, his health etc. as I can , just in  case it can help our son. Not easy. Not good either, as revisiting that time in my life is so very hard and painful. But I need to do this for my son.

So this week has been a hard week but a necessary one. David is doing well and doesn’t see his consultant until August and we are trying to put that to the back of our minds. Busy looking for a new home, to downsize to and to finish the new kitchen that was started just before David was diagnosed and when everything stopped. I thought the worst was behind us and still hope it is but these past weeks, the story above has brought me to a new place on the journey, one of reflection, soul-searching and revisitation. Not good but necessary.

I have read on my groups of many warriors doing so very well and it makes my heart sing. But I have also read of those less fortunate and my heart goes out to them.

Please continue to spread the word about cancer with a little ‘c’. Keep talking about it, wear your T-shirts, badges and tattoo’s with pride. We need to let our men be aware of this silent killer and stop it in its tracks!

Oh yes, anyone out their who has relatives who don’t know about a health condition that could be passed on, please share your news before it’s too late.

Thankyou for reading x

I didn’t write last week, I was too upset and feeling very low. Cancer of any kind sucks! I hate hate hate cancer with a little ‘c’. In all its guises, whoever it affects it brings fear, hurt and anger. Not emotions any of us want or need. These past few years, I have had, loss after loss. Pain and hurt after pain and hurt. I know it sounds self-pitying and do you know what, I don’t care. I do feel sorry for me, for us, especially my husband David. Self pity is not a good quality but that’s how I feel and not sure how much more we ‘here on the farm’ can take. I promised when I began this blog, to be open and honest. So this is me doing just that.

I know a lot of what I write on here is not about Prostate cancer but it is my journey and the cancer that hit my husband with no warning, as with everyone else affected, doesn’t come in isolation.My journey encompasses every part of my life and becomes entwined with my every day life. Anyone reading this who has a loved one with PC will understand where I am coming from. I have said before, cancer doesn’t think, ‘oh that person has such a lot going on their lives, they won’t cope with me’. No. It hits us, bursts into our lives uninvited and tramples over every aspect of our being and that of our families. It is cruel, fierce and leaves debris within its path. Even if we beat it, we will never really be the same. Life will never be the same.Sometimes this is a good thing but in the early days, it can be devastating. The fear we had at the beginning, with diagnosis, is never far away. We may hide it well, life might get better but it only takes  a split second for the fear to come back and the ‘what ifs’ to be present again.

If like me, your partner or husband has had the all clear,( at least for now), the fear that you had in the beginning might return at the very word cancer. Or is this just me? The long-term effect, at least for me, of having had my world turned on its head with David’s diagnosis, is that the fear I suffered as a child, returned and hit me hard. Now, after David having the all clear, I thought it had gone but it takes very little to bring it back. Just a word or a worry about a pain, or an ache and I am back there terrified. Hearing of someone else either in the group or someone we know, having cancer is enough to take me straight back to last year and I am in bits. This week brought every ounce of trepidation and I have not been good I am ashamed to say.

For those who know me, you will know how much my animals mean to me. My horses and ponies, dogs and cats. I suppose as I don’t have family apart from my youngest daughter and my beloved husband; the dogs and cat especially are my family and are treated as such. Back in January my little dog Ellie Mae had cancer and had surgery. We were told to be vigilant and that it may have spread. 2 weeks ago I noticed a little lump and we made an appointment to see the vet. The outcome was to take her last Tuesday to have the lump taken out, after investigating whether a scan showed any spread. The scan and blood tests were clear so we gave the go ahead for surgery. Then things didn’t go according to plan, I had a phone call saying that as everything was clear the vet gave Ellie a pre med and began to anesthetize her and her heart stopped and she stopped breathing. It was touch and go but they got her back. The operation was abandoned but they had found another lump and so they say it has metastasized. Now I know some might say ‘she is only a dog’ and if you do then that’s okay. To you maybe but to me, she has been my constant, her, Cody and Luther have been at my side all the time. Licked my tears when I have cried, sat by me when I needed company and loved me through the bad times of the past few years. So, to you I say, she is family and I almost lost her.

A consequence of this was the association of the word cancer. Fear was back bigtime! But for me it brought back the ‘what ifs’. What if David ‘s cancer comes back? What if it then metastasized? What if he isn’t safe yet? What if Cody or Luther die? What if! What if!  What if!!!Just as the ‘what ifs’ had subsided, here they were again, like a slap in the face!

I try to be strong, honest I do. I try to stay positive, not let fear run away with me. Even though I try to be hard, so that nothing can touch me, I fail. I can’t stop illness and cancer with a little ‘c’ that seems to follow us around. Ellie is only just 9 years old we have had all of our dogs longer than this. Cody is 12 and Luther is 15 so that worries me now. The thought of losing any of them is so scary and I am not ready for this. Not yet. Not ever is I am really honest.

What PC has brought me, is the fear that life will never be the same again and I want it to be. I am worried all the time. Not able to enjoy this new life we have, post surgery. A life that is different but we still have each other. But the constant worry spoils everything now.

The thing I have not been able to talk about on here but that I referred to, that had given me so much sadness, has been resolved I am so glad to say. Because of things that happened over the past years, plus David having PC and my own ill-health, I let some things slide. I didn’t see this coming and it spun out of control and perspective. Last week I had reason to take a long hard look at things, including myself. For many years I have blamed myself for family estrangements, that of my eldest daughter and consequently the rest of my birth family. I had promised my eldest sister that I would try to make things right within my family and I failed. Leaving me feeling guilty and sad. I had tried, to bring the family back together but no one wanted to know, so I have had to leave it as it is. Although I don’t know the reason for this I can’t afford to spend any more time regretting or trying to mend the broken if others are not willing to look at how it has been for me. More recently I have been made ashamed to be the mum of my eldest daughter and blamed myself for her appalling lies and dishonest behavior, on allowing her over the years, to get away with far too much. But as a mum that’s what you do, isn’t it. But I was reminded yesterday by someone who knows us both that she is an adult and is responsible for herself. Not me. As a mum I just assumed that responsibility and now resolve myself of it. I have to.

The other thing I realised this week, is something I had lost sight of. Something I teach clients; that good communication of the right kind is imperative. Almost every problem , including world issues, get out of control through lack of communication. Being so bogged down in my own fears these past years, I lost the ability to do this, except on here. What I realise now is that the people I have needed to communicate with, don’t read my blog. Lesson learned.

Before Ellie’s diagnosis I had begun to see the beauty of this beautiful place we call home, see it again as I did before David having cancer. Beginning to feel safe in my life again, after the nasties of the past few years. Safe with my beloved husband, ponies and dogs and cats. Maybe, again, I became complacent.

What do I want? I want life before cancer. Life without the very word in it. I want my life as it was before I became this scared, hurt and angry person who I don’t sometimes recognize. I just want my life back.

We have begun to talk seriously about downsizing. Letting Marie take the ponies, keep them as ours but let her take them now she has her own yard. Lessening the workload but seeing them as often as we like.Buy a smaller more manageable home, near to her and our ponies closer to amenities , somewhere less secluded. Maybe right on the coast.

Do I want to do this? No. I love the wide openness of ‘the farm’. The wonderful huge skies full of the beauty of unpolluted skies full of beautiful stars. I love my river and the lakes full of wildlife and I love having a huge beautiful garden.  I love the beautiful amazing views from every window of open countryside that changes with the seasons.Looking out each morning and seeing my beloved ponies grazing close to the house, a field full of wild flowers and another full of ducks is amazing. So why move? After the past year from hell I have seen how much there is to do here. The things I took for granted because David did them all. I hope and pray he stays clear of cancer but this year and the previous years ,courtesy of family stuff, have taken their toll on us both. We are both getting older and I fear it is too much for my wonderful man. Has he said that? No. He wouldn’t. But I can see it myself. Although I have said I love all we have here, I love my husband more.

I know it has been hard and sometimes during this journey none of us asked to make, I have come close to breaking point. Today I felt I couldn’t cope with any more pain and hurt but I know I will. Sometimes in my work, when a client is going through some unbearable issue in their life, I ask if they have ever felt that way before. Many say yes and then tell me of an horrendous time they endured and came though. I then say that what is happening now in their lives has no comparison and they realise they will survive.

For me, my childhood and young adult life was horrendous but I survived. The past few years have been horrendous, even before David being ill and I survived. So, I will survive today.

I also now acknowledge that the only person who can give me anywhere near the life I had before cancer, is looking right back at me when I look in the mirror. We are not out of the woods yet. We will have awful decisions to make quite soon re Ellie Mae and I know that although I can’t bear to think about it, I will never let her suffer. We will take care of her, spoil her and most of all ,love her. She is well at the moment, playing and eating but slowing down. As is Cody. Sleeping more, not as eager to go for walks. We will play it by ear as we have always done. I just reacted this time because of where I am emotionally. As I have said on here far too often, I will bounce back as soon as I have found Carol Ann again. I know she is there somewhere. Then life will get better, maybe not the same as before the dreaded ‘c’ but better than now. 

Thank you for reading x