Category: cancer with a little c.

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

 

 

 

 

 

Not being too well, I went to bed early last night, this morning I awoke to the horrible news of the London Bridge attack. horrified doesn’t cut it. Like everyone else, I am angry, disgusted, shocked and in a way, ashamed. Ashamed to be part of the human race who can commit these atrocities on each other. Who can soeasilly take a life, or in this case,lives. It wasn’t an act in any kind of religion, in the name of any God. It was murder of innocent people enjoying a lovely summers evening. Innocent of anything deserving this fate.

I am angry at what I see more and more of in everyday life, a lack of respect. But this was taken to another level with last nights events. Like others I am angry that these killings were carried out in the name of any religion. Calling for their ‘God’ while they carried out their murderous task. No God would want this. No God would ask this of his followers. At least no God I would want to worship. I am angry at this futile loss of life and the disrespect of those who did this horrible deed. When someone blows themselves up in the name of Allah or Islam, they must truly believe they will be rewarded in the after life. This is because they are radicalized or brought up to hold this belief. But I know that true followers of Islam are peaceful, loving people who do not believe in violence. So who are these who do this? I don’t think the media do the true Islamists any favours by calling the terrorists by  that name. It isn’t right and what it does it give the public the wrong message. That Muslims, Islamists are terrorists. That will breed hatred. Yesterday the act carried out by the cowards in the name of Islam, did not intend to die, they were never going to blow themselves up but maybe they believed that if they were shot by our police, they would become martyrs. Let’s not give them that! Let’s not focus on them! Let’s focus on the people who died, the emergency service personnel who are injured and on everyone affected by the events of last night.

What we mustn’t do is allow the hatred for us by these murderers, cloud our judgment. I have seen a lot of posts on social media full of hatred and rightly so. Full of suggestions of killing or throwing people out of the country, to keep ourselves safe. Yes that’s how I feel. Kill them all. Those we don’t kill get rid of them. But I know in my heart this is wrong.I alos know  that if we send them back they will only get worse. Things here will only get worse. If we kill any terrorist who doesn’t kill themselves, isn’t that like us becoming the same as then? Doesn’t that mean they have won? That they have ‘converted’ us into killers as they are? Hatred breeds hatred and we mustn’t fall into that trap. Instinctively we hate everyone who harms innocents. I do that as much as anyone. But does it help? Will it help? Will it bring back those lost? No. We need show we are together, that we are not afraid, even if we are. We need to do what is happening at Wembley this evening, come together and show strength. Show love for each other and be vigilant and still live our lives.

Maybe things like this horror should wake us all up to being more caring. To love others and show it. To show love for others, for friends and family and our neighbours.  This should begin with family. We are all here only once. This beautiful place we live on belongs to us all and it shouldn’t be filled with violence and hatred. Love can conquer a great deal, given the chance. Above all of this, we need to find respect, something I feel a lot of people have lost. Respect for others, respect for the rights of everyone to live in peace and respect for ourselves. 

Yesterday and the Manchester bombings puts some perspective in our own lives. I have moaned, vented and spilled my heart out on here and today feel ashamed. Not of doing this because my blog is about that. About how I cope on my own personal journey with cancer with a little ‘c’. But ashamed of letting things get the better of me and feeling weak and unable to pull myself through.Thinking of the families of those who died and those injured, I feel sahamed.

I have always believed that the only way to fight hatred and evil is with goodness, kindness and honest love. Throughout my own life, being dealt a rotten childhood, I still hung on to one thing, Hope. I asked God over and over to make ‘it’ stop but it didn’t seem he was listening.But I never lost Hope.

In the past few years all the nasties thrown my way, I have still tried to mend bridges even though I didn’t break them. Still loved those who didn’t love me and always tried to make things right. I might have failed, but I tried.

During David’s early Prostate cancer days, my hope faltered but we got through. I still have bad days, I think the ‘after’ bit is sometimes harder to deal with, at least it is for me. All the fear I tried hard to oush away, all the anger I showed a little, all of this is now evident and I have to deal with it. But David is well, that’s all that matters. I had no family support but used the groups on here. For that I have to thank group members for the love and support shown to me.  The thing that has shone out to me, is the total respect we all show each other. Something lacking in general, in life today.This disease is so destructive, not only physically but mentally as well and that takes its toll. I have lost people I loved to cancer and have my brother fighting to live through cancer. I still Hope.

Every day on here, I see strong warriors and their partners, fighting with everything they can to beat this horrid disease, to hang on to this precious thing we call life. I see others who are brave enough to say ‘enoughs enough’ and live their lives, their way. I admire every single one of them. Life is precious but quality of life is so important.

Hearing of these cowardly acts of murder, suicide bombings , stabbings, makes me very angry, such a huge lack of respect for life when others are fighting so hard for theirs. Not forgivable. Not understandable. Incomprehensible and so wrong. But revenge is not the answer.

I don’t know how we can change things. I don’t know how we can stay safe, stop the killings but I do know that ‘an eye for an eye’ approach is never the answer. If we have beliefs, we can pray. If we don’t, we can hope. We can support others. We can show love and respect for our communities and be vigilant. If we retaliate, show our anger, that shows our fear. Letting these people see our fear will please them. We need somehow to continue to live our lives as we always have done. Don’t show hatred because we feel afraid. Retaliation is what they want. Us being afraid is what they want. Let’s not give it to them. Let’s not become lesser people because of a few evil people. If we do this, if we throw people out of our country, if we kill those we fear, we are becoming as bad as them. They will have taught us that violence and murder wins. It doesn’t. It mustn’t.

Yes be angry. Yes feel hurt. Yes feel scared but gain strength in your loved ones. Together you will be stronger. We will be stronger.

Above all, I feel that using these emotions to show this group of wicked people, intent on destroying the very fabric of our beautiful country  that they won’t win. We won’t lower our standards to theirs. We won’t lose respect for others, for people, for places and most of all, for life.

When people show us hatred by words acts or deeds,of course we feel hatred. Don’t let them know that. They would rejoice in evoking such emotions. We need to show each other, our fellow-man, our neighbours, our families love and most of all Hope.

I’ve not lost that but I have lost my naivety  in believing that love conquers all. But not that good will outlive evil.

What can we do?

Teach our children about Good. About love. Show the world how we care. No matter who they worship, which God is theirs, we respect that. But none of these atrocities are carried out in the name of religion. No God would condone these horrors. The words used by terrorists, claiming they are acting for their ‘God’ are excuses for committing cowardly murder. Nothing more nothing less.

So let’s light our candles. Give love and comfort to show support. Let’s show gratitude for everyone who tried to help in both incidents and praise our emergency services. Show our deep compassion for every one caught up in these horrible events and pray that tonight at Manchester, everyone will be safe and enjoy the music.

Thankyou for reading. xx

 

Today I want to talk about life before Prostate cancer. My life as it was and many other lives I have heard about, since beginning my journey.

I have referred many times to the cruelty and emotional bullying I endured in the years coming up to 2016 when David was diagnosed. I had lost my relationship with my eldest daughter, starting with my need to be honest and being fed by lies and gossip from my youngest sister ,who only came into my daughter Lisa’s life at that time. Knowing nothing about my life or that of my daughter’s for 40 years, she entrenched herself into Lisa’s life and the damage was done. One of the biggest hurts in my life is the loss of my daughter.My life outside of the ‘nasties’ was good. I had been married to David since 1987 and we were extremely happy. Many said we were like 16 year olds, in our first flurry of love. Still are I am happy to say.

We have all,at some time, suffered loss. Either by death or by estrangement , broken relationships, loss of our pets, our jobs, friendships. All of those losses need us to grieve and most times we do, even if we are not aware. The most finite of losses is from death and sometimes that is the hardest of all. But could there be, for some people, something that equals  losing someone to death? I think there is. The loss of someone who is still alive. The loss of the person sat next to you if they have changed, in illness or some other reason. Losing someone to an illness and its changes is sometimes unbearable.

The estrangement of someone you love; you don’t see them anymore but does the love die? No and that is the hardest part. Grieving for someone who is no longer in your life, is so hard and so futile in most cases. One of the things I need to grieve for.

But we grieve for what that person was to us. We grieve for what they meant to us and for the ‘us’ that is no longer there. The pain we feel can be all-consuming. Grieving for the living is so hard.

In the case of my daughter, I suddenly realised recently, that I am not having to grieve for her. The person who inflicted all the pain on me, is not the daughter I gave birth to.Not the daughter who loved me beyond reason. Not the daughter who rang me every single day sometimes more than once. No, she is no longer here. She doesn’t exist as I knew and loved her. She has caused so much hurt, has believed and passed on so much nonsense about me and our life, why would I miss that? Why would I miss someone who has become so hard, so nasty and so dishonest. No. I don’t grieve for her. I grieve for who she was to me. I grieve for the person she was and the one I miss. Grieving for the living is painful, lengthy and sometimes life long.

On my PC journey, the reason for this blog, I have been scared, terrified, angry, sad and alone. But I find myself grateful for David not having to have treatment after the surgery. For not taking medication that could have changed him as it has many men. He hasn’t changed at all. He is still my rock. Still funny, active, full of life and full of optimism. Still the man I love. As I say and I am not being smug, I am lucky. But I have changed and he is finding that hard, I know. After the pain and hurt of the past 4 years, I have been diagnosed with clinical depression. As a Psychotherapist I saw this coming but pushed it out of my mind. But now I have to act on it and this blog is part of that.

I have always been the strong one, the one who family came to in crisis but now it is me who needs family and they are not there. But it doesn’t matter. I can’t miss the pain inflicted by them. I can’t grieve for what isn’t anymore, so I move on. I will get through for David and for Carol Ann. Show myself some love.

This past week and the original instigator of this weeks blog, I have read of women who are married to men who have PC and are struggling with the changes in their men through medication. I have read them being chastised, admonished for the feelings they have shared on Social Media, in groups I am part of. Some have feelings of not wanting to continue with their marriage, thoughts of leaving; other group members have thought this wrong. ‘You can’t leave him, he is ill’. and  ‘he doesn’t mean it, it’s the medication’. I read these posts with great sadness and a thought of ‘there but for the grace of God, go I’. I would never insult these poor ladies by saying I know how they are feeling, because I don’t. Even if David had changed, I still wouldn’t really know how another person feels in this situation. All I do know is that it must be a horrible place to be.

We all react differently if given situations and none of us know how we would react in another’s shoes. PC affects the sufferer in all kinds of ways and so does the medication. But equally, it affects us women. It can change us. Change how we feel and give us emotions we have never experienced before. So how do we know how to react? How do we know what to do? How do we know how to respond? We don’t, to all of the above. PC like becoming a parent, doesn’t come with a manual.

Emotional change can affect us enormously and affect our relationships. Illness does this. Lies do this. Loss of love does this. If love can remain , in the darkest times, we are lucky. Some of us on here have been to hell and back since our men were diagnosed. The journey can be faltering, can be treacherous and can lead us to places we never would have wanted to go. Our resolve can be tested to its limits. If life before PC was rocky, if the relationship had not been strong, the waiting, the worrying, the surgery, the treatment can change the personality of both sufferer and partner: then the  rocky can become a landslide and the relationship fall apart.

In the beginning of this journey none of us asked to travel, we will have had other issues in our lives. Things we may have been struggling with. PC gave no allowance for those. Life may have been hard, I know it was for me, and then like a slap in the face our partner has cancer.We go through the rollercoaster of waiting, worrying, the fear and the anger. It may be our men who have the disease but we are also suffering in a different way. This nasty disease, this cancer with a little ‘c’, damages the health of both of us.I have written at length how it affected me.

So when the treatment takes its toll, on those unfortunately having to have further treatment or other treatment, the sufferer can change so much that they seem a different person.Not only does this horrible illness take from us, it changes who we are, turns us into different people and our relationship suffers. In some cases, the wife/partner is already worn down with it all and feels unable to carry on with the relationship. I have read of many this week who intend or have, walked away. PC is destructive in so many ways, it can make or break a relationship. In some cases the very fact the disease touches you, can make a good relationship stronger. You pull together. We are the ‘fortunate’ ones. But as I said, it can destroy a marriage especially if the flaws were already there.

One of the overriding things I have read this week on the groups, is a huge feeling from women who are at rock bottom and thinking of walking away,a huge feeling of guilt. I for one, don’t think this justified. None of us bought a ticket for this ride, none of us asked to take this journey and none of us knew how it would affect us.

To the ladies in this horrible place, wondering where their men have gone, they are still there. Changed but still there. PC has taken over and sometimes there is nothing you can do anymore except recognize that it is the effects of the illness not any reflection on either of you.The person your partner has become, is still the person you knew before but changed. If things before this were good between you, then together you will beat this, will be able to withstand what PC throws at you.

If your relationship was not good, if it was shaky or you were about to break up, PC should not change any of that. Because the disease has surfaced won’t make things between you right. Yes it will be harder now if you were thinking of leaving. Others will say you should stay because your partner is unwell. That it is wrong to leave as he needs you. That the person he was before the illness is not always the person he is now. If the partnership was over, if you have both drawn apart, PC will not bring it back. If you’re lucky it might act like a sticking plaster but it won’t heal you. If the man you loved has changed and life was not good how can staying be the right thing to do? Unless you can learn to love the man he has become. I read of men who are unkind, bullying, cruel even after treatment, but sometimes they were that way before and that was why the relationship was bad. Maybe the illness changed him into this person but who says you have to live like that? If you love him and if you can see things getting better, then stay but if not….. If you stay, out of sympathy or loyalty, is that right? Loyalty is sometimes misplaced.  You always have a choice but think carefully and consider the other important person in all of this. You. I am a great believer, if something is right for you, it will ultimately be right for others in your life.

PC wears away at you, bit by bit, as I said last week, in my squirrel analogy. It can render you unrecognisable. It is not only the PC sufferer who changes but we do as well. Sometimes it brings the best out in us, sometimes it makes us see the reality of the situation we were in before it began. Sometimes  it takes our strength, sometimes it gives us strength. A very complex cancer.

If reading this you recognize yourself, show yourself some love. Some of the love you give to others, even to some who have changed. Try to understand they are still there. They are still there, just out of your reach. But if they were not good for you before, PC won’t make them good for you now.If you were about to leave your relationship before PC, this makes doing this so much harder but will having PC make it better?

So, in the situations above,we have choices. Do we wait, hope that things will change? That people will either change back to who they were before, when life was good, before the cancer,? Can we change them or the situation? Will they change back? How much time do we give?Sometimes we have to accept that if things were bad before, they are still bad now, no matter what has happened in between. Time, cancer, life. Chasing someone or something, sometimes is futile and things or people just don’t change back.

I have been trying so hard to cope and to deal with the being shut out of my family so unfairly that it has made me ill. That and then PC. I have tried to make things right as my late sister Georgina had asked me to, just before she lost her cancer fight but I failed. 3 years ago today. I have to stop chasing shadows because shadows can’t be caught. Sometimes we have to accept that things change, people change and we are not missing the person they are now, but the person they used to be. That is what memories were made for.

Life is not about being the bravest, the strongest, the most successful, it should be about what’s right. In your life you make things happen. To me honesty is the most fundamental of values. Honesty in thought, deed and mind. I will always say it as it is. Will always be honest and tell the truth, ‘wart s ‘all’ has become a favourite phrase. If staying with someone is done out of duty, pity or fear, that is not honest. If a relationship has broken down, I don’t feel that staying in that union is honest or good for either party.

Ultimately it doesn’t matter what any of us think. It is down to our own situation and how we define duty. That duty should be to us ourselves first, then it becomes the right thing for those involved.Nobody has the right to criticise another person unless they are in their shoes.

So to every partner of a PC warrior, stay strong. If you are fortunate to survive this horrid disease without it affecting your relationship, be grateful but please don’t condemn others who either were on the verge of leaving or are thinking of doing so because of the changes cancer brings. We have no right.

The main reason, I believe, for the support groups on social media, is to provide a safe place for us to vent, to offload and to share. If someone voices an opinion that you don’t agree with or don’t like, please choose your words carefully. Remember that everyone on here is going through a horrible time. So if you disagree, think badly of what someone has said, if you can’t offer support, please say nothing. If you think that leaving a man with PC, is wrong, for whatever reason, think twice about commenting and try to understand how hard it must be for the woman writing the post. None of us know how we might  be in her shoes.

Just sayin’ 

Thankyou for reading.x

 

 

 

Before last year, the year my life turned on its head, I was struggling with some family stuff, mentioned in earlier blogs. But I could still see the strong woman I had become over the years. I could still work, even if not as much as I had before, because of being rendered so tired from this struggle but still had the ability to work in my professional role. I was a family orientated woman, giving everything I could to those I love. At that time I had many things on the go, spinning many plates but coping as best I could. What I am saying is that Carol Ann the capable, assured, business woman and author was still here, slightly damaged and very tired but still visible. But as I have said,  now,I feel broken, worn down by everything that life has thrown at me and my family.

I have a garden ornament, used to be a squirrel. It is stone and has ‘lived’ in every garden I have had for the past 30 years. It is weather-beaten, worn, slightly erased of features and a bit broken. Time has taken its toll and I know just how that little squirrel feels. He no longer resembles an animal, doesn’t look the least like a squirrel but…. I know he is one. That’s what matters. I keep him because of what he was when I first acquired him and if I can spend some time on him, he will once again stand in our garden as the furry creature I first bought.

In previous blogs I have, as was intended, focused on how PC affected me, affects me. My perspective of this nasty journey I unwillingly found myself on. It as hard. Sometimes now, still is hard. Yes David had the operation and then the all clear and I really thought that was it. That now life could return to normal, he would be well and I……. well I would be able to relax and be me. But the problem is, I don’t know who ‘me’ is anymore. Over the past year, I  have been, as all partners have, a wife, a nurse, a carer, and sometimes a ‘Mum’ to the man I love. Don’t get me wrong, I did and do all of this willingly, I love David and will stand by him through anything life throws at us. But this year has left its mark and I feel broken, lost and different.

The broken is from all the worry and waiting. All the fear and sadness. All the anger and frustrations.All the lies and pain.

The ‘lost’ is because I now don’t actually recognize the face in the mirror. The woman looking back at me has aged, so much in these past 3 years but I have only noticed this recently.

The different is that now she seems to have lost confidence in who she is. Lost her own self-esteem and self-love.Just lost.

Like the garden ornament, bit by bit, I have been weathered by each and every storm that came into our lives. Family, my eldest daughter’s lies and cruelty, my writing career struggle, my eldest sister’s death, the  illnesses of my son and brother and my beloved husband. I have won battles in this war, we hopefully have won the cancer with a little ‘c’ battle. I survived as a writer, won that battle but can do very little for the rest. But this is a war I intend to win or at least every battle that I can win. This is a fight for my very survival as a person. I have to win!

PC steals so much from us, vandalizes our lives and all we can do is wait, watch, hope and deal with it. We have no choice.

Last year, with a wedding having to be planned secretly, because of fear of family disrupting it, amidst all of the above I did keep all the plates in the air but only just. Only just was enough but after David’s operation and recovery, the plates, one my one have spun out of control and hit the ground. My last few blogs have shown this and today, realisation stepped in. This strong confident woman who could cope with anything and everything, is broken.

A saying comes into my head that I need to think about, ‘even broken crayons still colour’ Well, I am still colouring but the overall picture being drawn is not a good one.

So what should I do? Should I give in to this? Should I sit back and let life get the better of me? Of course not but I am struggling with how I move forward. I know I need to be mended and I also know that only I can mend me.

Today, I decided to keep a ‘Happy’ book. Something I have clients doing, those who suffer depression especially. Every day, I will write down something good that happened. Take a photo that means something to me. Write anything good  that happens, into the book and keep memories. Then on ‘bad days’, I can open the book and remind myself that life is, actually okay, sometimes even good. It has always worked with clients, so I am giving it a try.

There have been many sad days, many frightening experiences and some funny incidents on this journey none of us wanted to take.

The side effects of Pc treatment were laid out to us by our PC nurse. David and I have compared ‘knickers’. Compared ‘pads’ and had many a giggle doing so. We have celebrated every milestone as I have shared on here. His first time, ‘making the trip to the loo’ in time.When he goes for more hours than before, not needing to visit the loo or staying dry, we hug and laugh and feel encouraged. The supermarket incident when he used the urinal for the first time, hugging and laughing in the aisle of the shop, much to the amusement of shoppers. I wonder what they would have said if they knew the truth of why we were hugging? He hasn’t had very much pain, even at the beginning of recovery, post operation, although we had been ready for that.Another positive. Still has aches around his new belly button but maybe that will go.

So, life has its ups and downs and I need to focus on the ups, as I hope all partners reading this will do. When I read the posts on the groups, I admit to sometimes, when I can see the post is going to be sad, I scroll past, if it is a ‘bad day’ for me. Selfish? Maybe, but I like  to call it self survival.

I am the only one who can mend me as I said. I have done this many times in my life, mended myself I mean and am still here to tell the tale. Maybe moaning sometimes, but still here. This time, maybe because I am tired, it has taken me a long time, to acknowledge the fact, that we can all break and I am indeed broken. But most things can be mended and I am one of them as we all are.Maybe I will find a ‘me’ professionally, to talk things through with, as I don’t have anyone to do that with. Who knows. I have been told I have helped many, so I need to find a ‘me’ to help find myself. Sounds a bit American doesn’t it. Finding myself.

For all the wives, partners , girlfriends etc out there reading this, remember ,that even though we do these things for the men in our lives, even though the world sees us as strong, remember; that feeling a little broken at times is actually okay. I want to say that each post I read, especially from partners, gives me strength so Thankyou all for sharing.

So very soon, who knows, I might even be able to go back to work. But in the meantime, before I try helping others who are troubled, I need time to mend Carol Ann. Who knows, even the squirrel might emerge from this, a ‘good’ for my happy book. 

Thankyou for reading x

 

I was going to begin this blog with an apology. Once again, last week’s post was down and ‘needy’. This week,I felt I had to say sorry but sorry is just a word and often spoken too easily. To have to say ‘sorry’ you must have done something wrong, either intentionally or not. If it was intentional then yes, apologise and change the way you behave, make sure you never act that way again. Saying sorry should be your acceptance of this and a way of making things right. This week I have had reason to look back at hurts directed at me and the ‘sorry’s’ I never received or made. If I am wrong, I will be the first to say the word and put things right. I have yet to accept that some people can’t or won’t do this.

Sometimes apologizing is a need. I have felt that need all of my life. The kiss and make it better need. In my professional world, I would be known as a’ rescuer’. I have always wanted to smooth things over, make things better, put things right, even when I wasn’t the instigator of the wrong deed. Having a ‘mother’, who blamed me for everything,  I grew up believing that I was.  I now know that not to be true.

So. I decided not to apologise for last week’s blog but to ask you read my earlier blogs . To see how I came to the place I found and sometimes still find myself in at times. Just to say its been a bad few years.

Does an apology , a sorry, make it right? No.

Does saying I am sorry for being so down and sharing that make it better? No.

This is not an excuse but an explanation for my sometimes very low posts. For you to try to see where I am coming from by reading previous blogs. But not an apology.

In this uncertain world, where my husband fought Prostate cancer. My beloved brother is dying of lung cancer and all the sadness I can’t talk about on here, I decided today to use that word, sorry. I struggle sometimes, as we all do. The partner of a sufferer of PC, is affected as much as the man himself. Differently, but as much. Life changes and fear, anger, sadness and injustice enter our lives, as well as the dreaded ‘c’ word. We can become people we don’t even recognise, on the journey none of us chose to take.Along with many others, I am that partner, that wife and as I said, sometimes I struggle.

But there is a very much-needed sorry. An overdue apology for treating someone with much less than they deserve. For being hard on them and trying and expecting them to be perfect and having unreasonable expectations of them. I feel the need to allow this person to treat herself the way she treats others. Today, this is a sorry to me, to my inner child and the woman I have become. I need to be kinder to her, allow her bad days. Allow all the pain, hurt and anger that she feels without having to offer an apology to anyone other than herself. To enable her to write on here, just how she feels. To remind her that she is not superwoman and has many frailties and failings but always tries her best.

Life has been tough and my expectations of myself , tougher. Reality check needed here. I need to learn to forgive myself and say sorry to me. I have always forgiven those who hurt me but never forgiven myself for feelings and emotions I can’t control. So now I must.

This past week, the other ‘things’ in my life have not improved. Dealing with a horrid situation that is heartbreaking, on top of everything else,is hard.

I am also feeling a bit of survivor guilt. I read posts about brave men losing their fight against this cancer with a little ‘c’ and whilst feeling sad and angry, I find myself feeling a little guilty, that my darling man has survived and will, we all hope, be okay. This does sound a bit silly I know but I have worked with survivor guilt, with servicemen etc and I know the signs. I need to work on this and whilst feeling sad for those lost to this nasty cruel disease, rejoice in the reality that David and others we know, are okay

I also have read a lot on the groups I am part of, that no one is free of PC. That you are only ever in remission. I choose to discount this. David was told that the consultant surgeon had ‘got it all’. That it hadn’t spread and was contained. They have no fear that it will recur. This was the subject of a long posting on social media and I found myself becoming quite despondent. It has to be gone. I have to believe David will be okay. I want it over . I want it gone!  David HAD cancer, he doesn’t have it.

The other thing I have realised to-day, is that sometimes the need to say sorry is unfounded. The need to apologise fruitless and impossible. Sometimes, just not possible. Not because you didn’t want to say sorry but because you never had the opportunity. Many years ago I had a very dear friend. Someone who helped me through a very dark time in my life and without whom, who knows. Would I still be here to write this blog? I will never know the answer to that but possibly not. She was kindness itself, funny, always ready for a laugh and always wanting to help everyone. She would sit with me for hours, hold me, care for me and always willingly. I shared her family and her friends and we did so much together. It was the worst time,at that point, of my adult life and she was there every step of the way, showing her love, making it perversely the best part . We lost touch, I am not prepared to say why, but we did and I have forever felt bad about that. I have always missed her. Always wanted to explain but I know I can’t. Always wanting to say sorry. An apology not given and never received. But very much felt and meant. Something I have to live with. One of my biggest lifetime regrets.Would sorry have made it right? No. But explaining may have, if I had been able.

Some of you will have read about a triumph last Wednesday. David and I were in the Supermarket and he went off to the loo. He was quicker returning than he has been for a while, having to ‘undress’ to urinate. He had the biggest school boy grin on his face and came over and whispered in my ear ‘I used the urinal”. Only other sufferers will understand the hugeness of that statement. I hugged him and he hugged me, almost dancing around on the spot and we were laughing and almost crying. People were staring but did we care? Did we heck. This was the step forward he had so eagerly awaited. Onward and upward now I hope.

This past week I read a blog by my friend Mark Bradford, that broke my already broken heart but also made me full of admiration. He is someone I aspire to, someone who , in a small way, has restored my hope in humankind. I see him as a true friend, we will possibly never meet but I feel we know each other and for that I will be eternally grateful. To have people like him enter my life, even in these horrid situations we find ourselves, is a blessing to me and a salvation. The people I have met on the groups I belong to, are wonderful, kind, caring and sharing and people I thank for their generosity of time, in their comments, posts and blogs. They share humour at times and I find that helpful and so necessary in these hard times.I know they will understand and see where I am coming from as they have been reading about my Journey since last August.

I hope you too, can allow me this blog.

Thankyou for reading.x