Truth – Page 9 – carolannwright

Stealing Our Today and My yesterdays.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thanks for reading x

Emotions. Memories and Reality. In Other Words, Life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thankyou for reading x

A Different September. Ignorance. Knowledge and the need to Talk.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thankyou for reading x

The Danger and Damage of Re Writing History.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thankyou for reading x

The Journey Is Almost Over but The Story Goes on.

This week’s blog is partly personal but mostly about my Journey with Prostate Cancer, the reason my blog began. All is relevant to where I find myself today.

As I said last week, David’s prognosis is so far very good. It allows us to look forward. To plan and be happy, something that has been missing for a while now. Being happy I mean. I don’t mean we were moping around but the curse that is cancer with a little ‘c’ was always there. I know we have the all clear but will be waiting for the year anniversary PSA just to make sure. During the last few years, ‘family’ stuff aside, I didn’t dare to wonder what it would be like, on the other side. When we had journeyed through this horror and arrived safe at the end of it. I wouldn’t let myself go there. But after seeing the consultant 2 weeks ago, I did. Briefly but I dared to go there. I have been ecstatic, deliriously happy as I said last time, but also in the depths of despair. David has recovered so well. And as far as his consultant is concerned the dreaded cancer has gone. In the past! Banished! So I have every reason to be happy and we both are really. But I wake up, expecting the blackness to descend on my calm, expecting that sudden rush of panic that I have had every day since his diagnosis. It’s an odd feeling. Almost like I am missing something. That something is not quite right. That’s when it hits me, there is something missing. Something that has accompanied me for the past 2 years and for many years in my early life. The ‘F’ word. The fear is not there anymore. This is a ‘miss’ I am grateful to have and will try to enjoy.

Many readers have messaged me in the past weeks, months, re my blog and wished us both well. Some of the ladies in the groups, say they have gained comfort from my words and for that I am humbled. The reason I began to write on here was to say how it is for the wives/partners of PC. Something not always acknowledged. Some have commented on the actual blog and I have allowed these comments to be published. This last week should have seen me getting my life back together happily with David. But sadly, no. When ‘c’ hits us, as I have said before, and something all of you know, the problems in our lives, already there, don’t diminish, go away, we still have them to deal with at the same time as the cancer. Likewise, when we come through the other side, we may have overcome the biggest of our worries, the ‘c’ word but the other nasties are still present. They didn’t go with the cancer, sad to say.

After my blog ‘After The Change. The return of the ‘F’ word’ and a postscript I wrote, I received a comment from the person the postscript was meant for. Telling me in no uncertain terms what I can and can’t write on social media. It was malicious, full of lies and threatening. After last week’s blog ‘Scary Expectations etc.’, I received another comment from the same person, this time trying to involve someone who is nothing to do with any of the lies being spread. At first the fear returned, I felt as I had as a little girl at the hands of my ‘mother’. Bullied and treated unfairly.But it didn’t stay for long. I was going to keep it to myself but decided to tell my husband. I spoke with David and he reassured me. He said ‘who do they, the gossips, think is interested in something that did or didn’t happen more than 49 years ago? No one!’ He is right. I haven’t approved the comments because they make me feel ashamed of the person who wrote them. I know the truth. The other person involved knows the truth and so do my family here, Marie and David. That is all that matters. I won’t be bullied any more. I won’t be told what I can or can’t do and be controlled by people whose sole purpose is to hurt me. They will fail. This is my blog. My life. My truth. But it was all I could think about. Any person with any decency, who knew what we had been through with PC would have backed off, left us alone; but no.

In my Psychotherapy work, I help clients recognize that fear is the thing that can hurt you most. But that you can overcome it. If your fear is illness of a loved one, as with cancer in my case, you support those going through it. They have the treatment and hopefully recover. If you are afraid of anything, running away doesn’t work. Ignoring the fear doesn’t work. I know this personally and with my work with clients. ‘Feel the fear and do it anyway’ is a saying from an American author Susan Jeffers, one I use often in my work. All of us at some time in our lives, experience fear to a degree. We need to face it head on. It won’t just go away. But the one thing no one should ever fear are facts and the truth. David had PC. Fact! We and the team dealt with it. All the nasties, all the downs and all the ups and we are still here thanks to medicine. I was afraid of the future. Afraid of how it might change us, individually and as a couple. But those fears were unfounded. If anything changed it was for the better if that was possible. We are closer than ever now and know we can survive whatever is thrown at us.

Only those guilty of doing wrong should be afraid of the truth or of being found out. So why was I so scared, or feeling hurt and sad? Association I think. Taking me back to earlier in my life when this was how it was. Me being hurt by those who should have loved me. Sounds pathetic but as a child it is very real. I was back there, little Carol Ann was evident, as happens when we are hurt or afraid. After the comments and emails from my eldest daughter, I began to go down, thinking of the trouble she was trying to cause. David said he was worried for me. All the nastiness of the past few years by ‘family’ had made me ill and he said I was going that way again. This was unforgivable as it should have been a time for celebration but I was becoming obsessed with all the hurt being dealt me. He said it was affecting ‘us’ and I hadn’t realised. I won’t let anyone or anything do that. So I gave myself a talking to, pulled myself up, as they say and will now focus on ‘today’.

I need to get back to work and that is now in place. Seeing clients is something I love, helping people out of anxiety, depression etc. is something I know I can do. The past years, including being affected by PC, my self-confidence went down as far as it could go. Illness does that. Bullying does that. But no more. All of these things did their best to break me and failed. It is up to me to make sure the cracks are sealed and that nothing negative can get into my life anymore. I thought I was there, last week, when I wrote my blog but I was wrong.

Today my beloved husband came in from the garden and said, ‘No pad!’ pointing to his nether regions. ‘No pad since yesterday evening!’ How good is that! We hugged and laughed and that is what this part of my Journey should be all about. Those of you who have been here, at this stage, know how good that was. We have always used humour, always laughed at ourselves, our way of coping I suppose. Throughout our 32 years together, we have laughed things better and are still doing this now, during the cancer and now with David and his recovery. It should be about sharing, having fun and loving. It will be. We have put back downsizing, I realise that it wasn’t this house that has made me so unhappy it was cancer and outside forces barging their way in. We have renovated our home and David, almost single-handed, since his operation in February, has designed and fitted a wonderful new kitchen. I need to appreciate this and enjoy living here again.

Sometimes you have to close the door on things you cannot change. Close out the bad times in order to enjoy the good. Now and again, even though I thought the door was closed enough, it gets pushed open again and the pain and hurt is able to get in. So today I have decided to close it and lock it forever. Barricade it if necessary to prevent what is left of my life and that of my family here, who love me and whom I love, being contaminated by those who choose to do so. The bolts will be strong and re enforced. For someone who shut me out of her life and wants nothing to do with me, she keeps barging back in uninvited. My door was always open to her before this last time. No more.

One of the reason I haven’t worked is that cancer has stolen my self -confidence. It had been low after the previous few years for reasons I have told before but David having cancer meant that I felt inadequate, helpless, and unable to cope as well as I wanted. How could I possibly help others feeling like this. Last week I felt better than I had for a few years and began my re registration with my governing body, ready to recommence work.Then the comments, pushing me back to where I had been for a few years before, almost in danger of going back to zero. David stopped me. He reassured me, reminded me of how we, as a couple had survived everything and with his love and support I know we will be okay. It is me, me who had allowed myself to slip down again. But now I am back, work is happening and I am writing again. Back almost to my normal. I have taken back control. I need to concentrate on the things I can do, the things and people I love, my work and my writing. It’s time.

My memories of the past, my children, my grandchildren, will be selective, the happy times, those remembered with love and happiness. No more nasty and no more hidden from view. No one will tell me what I can and can’t post. These are my memories, in a way, my very own Memory Box, like those made for each of my children. It is the good times we share on social media, these memories were some of my good times. The others are still to come. It doesn’t matter what is said about my life, no one can change the facts. The truth. It is my life, my past and I am proud, that against all odds I have become a strong woman .The woman I have always worked so hard to become.

As the picture above says, this is my life and my story. So I will choose the next chapter. It will be happy. As an author it is already in edit mode. As a woman it has already begun. As a wife it will be a bestseller. As for the truth, it will be in every word.

Thank you for reading x.

Scary Expectations. Good surprises. Guilt and Strength.

This past week has taken me to the lowest place possible and the highest place experienced in my entire life. When life seems to be dealing you blow after blow, year after year, I think you get into a place where you expect it. Where you don’t expect things actually going right but expect the bad, the nasty and the cruel. Well that is where I have been for more years than I like to think about. So when I receive good news, sometimes it is almost too hard to actually feel good. To accept that something positive has happened. I can’t really believe it. I have lost the ability to believe and to feel relief and ultimately, happy.

If like me, you have been worn down either by poor health, a loved ones illness, bullying and pain; the fear is always there. It had become my constant companion. The ‘what if’s have had a field day and are present most of the time. So ‘good’ is in danger of being lost.

The past few years I have been the punch bag for family, mostly my eldest daughter and youngest sister, long before my Journey with PC had begun, before I began this blog for cancer with a little ‘c’, that had rendered me very low.So I was already in a dark place emotionally. Then came David’s diagnosis that I have written about since last year. I had been unwell, my youngest daughter lost her baby and had been unwell. PC, was I thought, at the time and several times since, the straw that might break the camels back. As I have said on here, cancer doesn’t care what you are going through, it just strikes at will and causes fear and worry. Now I expect it, bad news I mean, the fear is always with me. I don’t expect good news in any part of my life. I thought the family stuff had ended but out of the blue, wallop it is back.

Friday was no exception to the above, going to see the consultant for the results of David’s 6 month PSA result and his future re PC, was scary to say the least. The ‘what ifs’ were overbearing. I could hardly breathe. David was calm and as pragmatic as always. ‘Whatever happens, we can fight it together’, he reassured me on our long journey to the hospital. ‘But I don’t want to fight. I am all out of fight’ I wanted to scream but didn’t. I just smiled. I am good at that, pretending all is well, had lots of practice.

First we saw the incontinence nurse, then the ED nurse and finally the consultant. He talked for a while, asking David questions, going over what he had done during the operation. We knew all of this, were told last visit but I didn’t mind. All the time he was talking about that, he couldn’t give us the bad news. After his assessment of my husband, he calmly said ‘You are cancer free. The PSA is undetectable again’. I sat numb for a while. ‘That’s okay then’, words spoken by my husband seemingly in the distance. ‘That’s okay’? I wanted to scream, it’s not okay! It’s wonderful. Amazing. Thank God’. was what I wanted to shout at the top of my voice but in reality I just sat there, numb. In disbelief. Where was the catch? Where was the bad news? The consultant stood and shook our hands and we left his room. We came out silently and walked through the huge hospital foyer that suddenly looked amazing. Walking out to the car, it was pouring with rain and blowing a gale. We stopped and looked at each other and smiled. Hugging and laughing in the rain all the way back to the car. It was over.

That evening after telling Marie, my son and close family and friends, then posting on the groups I belong to who have shown such love and support throughout this horrible time, and Facebook friends, I suddenly felt tearful. I wanted to share with my family, share this wonderful piece of news that would change our lives back to happy. I wanted to share my news as I always had done in years past, with my eldest daughter and grandsons, as normal families would. But my family is anything but normal so I couldn’t. The call I dreaded making was to my brother Tony , but he had told me to ring after we had seen the consultant. Tony has terminal lung cancer so it was hard to make this call. He was overjoyed, genuinely happy for us both and that made it feel better. I pm’d my two nieces who are still within my family unit and both said how happy they were for us both. So family is smaller than it should be but the things that have happened, like cancer with a little ‘c’ and the nasties from ‘family’ are in the past now. Today is about the future and I will be happy with those here with me and not let those who try to hurt me rain on my parade.

I heard a young war veteran, Sam Boyle, who is walking around Britain for mental health, PTSD mainly, say on the radio, ‘It’s not the horrors of fear. It’s not about overcoming fear. It’s working through it and with it, every day of your life, that makes you strong.’ I see that now. My childhood and early adulthood had been filled with fear, recently I had fallen back into that, constantly being afraid, expecting the worst but no more.

I must admit to one downside of this past week. I have worked in the past with survivors of all kinds of horrors, situations, abuse and war, accident or illness, who suffer survivor guilt. I found it hard to write to members of the groups I belong to, who have a terminal prognosis, disease that cannot be cured and telling them of David’s outcome. I feel guilty as anyone would, as I did when I told my brother. But I have also to understand that they want to know about successes, even if they themselves can’t be helped. They are a very unselfish group of men and I love and support them all. I will continue to be a PC bore, telling anyone who will listen, suggest to every man I meet, within reason and where appropriate, to get tested. I will be an advocate for change and awareness at every opportunity. This has been a wake up call and I don’t want anyone else to go on this journey I never wanted to make, if it can be prevented.

So, life was hard enough when this unwanted entity came uninvited into our lives. It caused pain, wreaked havoc and even though it finally left, the damage is done and we have to pick up the pieces. No, I haven’t lost my beloved husband but I could have done. So the ‘F’ word is still around because it came so close. A wake up call. But with this and the prior few years of bombardment from those who should know better, we have lost so much. Most of which we won’t get back, the biggest, being Time. But there is a positive here, we have gained so much. Friends, in reality, friends in virtuality, gratitude and love. So Thankyou cancer and thankyou to those determined to hurt us, Thankyou for teaching me such a lot over the past years.

The ups and downs of the past few days have been tremendous in their strength. The ‘ups’ have been wonderful, enlightening, uplifting. I can see the beauty around me, I can smile again, even laugh. David was singing in the garden this morning, wonderful for me to hear. I can see our future once again and it will be so good.

The other ‘stuff’ will not keep spreading its’ poisonous decay, I won’t let it. Tell the lies, the made up stories and the gossip, I don’t care. Nothing you can throw at me will come close to the horror of the closeness of losing my husband, the man who helps hold me together through everything. My rock. I am as strong as him now. You’ll not beat me down again.

I don’t know whether this is how you feel when you are ‘high’. Ecstatic, euphoric, deliriously happy. I don’t know. When the drug of your choice wears off and you begin to come down, feel low and descend into a huge black hole as I began to do yesterday. I don’t know. I have been tearful with relief but if I ever, for any reason, go down again, I will read my own blog and remind myself of this Journey. I was at rock bottom before it all began and then discovered that rock bottom had a basement and I was pushed down it, and was even lower than the previous 3 years. Now I am out!

On this stage we call life, the villains come in all shapes and sizes. People, disease, perpetrators of abuse. They don’t come one at a time or on their own, they sometimes come in gangs unwarranted, evil and destructive. Well we have killed off the biggest of these villains to attack and infest us; cancer with a little ‘c’. The villains left, still inflicting the poison are insignificant now, and the show will go on regardless. A few nasty characters are still on the stage, still trying to ruin the happy ending but they will fail. Truth and good will always prevail.

My love and thoughts are with anyone fighting cancer, everyone in the groups I am part of and I will continue to blog. It may be,more personal and I will tell you before you read, in case it doesn’t interest you. I wish you all the luck and love in the world and thank everyone for the love and support you have shown me on this Journey , that is written from my perspective not David’s. Never stop hoping. x

The past years have seen us both fight the biggest battle of our lives. David having cancer. Before that, we both fought for my professional and writing career and we won both. 100% record I think.

So Life and the ‘nasties’,do your best. Throw anything you have at us and we will fight you off and win. These past years have made us stronger than ever, made me stronger than ever. After the worst few years of my adult life, to quote Sir Elton John, ‘I’m still standing’.

Thankyou for reading x

Change.The Return Of The ‘F’ Word and a Necessary Postscript.

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.

Stealing My ‘Fairytale’ and Dulling My Sparkle.

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

The Past, The Present and ‘What If’s.’

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

The 3 Parts in Adoption. Happiness.Joy. Heartache

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