Loss. Emotions.Family. Bereavement. Missing people.Tomorrow. Grief. – Page 12

The Nasty Effects of the ‘f’ Word in cancer.

The first 40 or so years of my life, I lived with fear as my constant companion. As a child, I was afraid of my abuser, afraid of the abuse. I was afraid of the woman they called my mother. I was afraid of the loneliness I felt. Fear was huge and always present. I was afraid of life itself.

As a young mum I was afraid of getting it wrong. Afraid of making mistakes. Afraid for my children and that made me possessive of them especially around men. I was afraid for my daughters’ futures and scared for the plight of my son, who was taken from me when I was ill , and adopted. So fear played a huge part in my life.

When I met David, the fear disappeared. I felt safe. Loved. Happy, free from the demons of the past and safe in my little family. I wrote my life story which became a bestseller, wanting to inspire other sufferers, also laying ghosts if you like, from readers messages, it helped many victims and the fear was a thing of the past.

In 2012,I knew what fear was, once again, when entrenched in a nasty 6 month hoax by a troll. All the fears from the past came flooding back and I felt like a frightened child again. Then family ‘stuff’. These past 3 years have left me reeling. Abuse and bullying from family was the start. Fighting for my professional career was next. Then the biggest of all, my wonderful man, my rock, was diagnosed with prostate cancer. My world fell apart. I have written about this in past blogs. About how terrified I was, scared, overwhelmed and felt very much alone and helpless.

This past week, I have read many posts of social media, from wives and girlfriends, some from men themselves; all telling of this horrid thing called fear. Some are newly diagnosed, some are in the middle of treatment, some even say they can’t take anymore. I ditto the above at times. PC not only affects our men but spreads its evil, yes I use a strong word but that’s how I feel. It spreads into the very core of our being. We feel emotions some of us never knew we had. We become angry. We question the justice in this illness. But most of all we feel fear. Everyone of us at some time will be scared and it doesn’t stop there. At first we are in shock. The ‘why us’, the ‘it can’t be true’, the ‘how could this happen?’, come rushing into our mind sometimes stealing our sanity. If like me you are not a tearful person, you may have been more than surprised when you suddenly break down into uncontrollable sobbing. I have cried more these past months than ever in my life. Having taught myself as a child that crying only gets you a telling off or more of the kind of ‘love’ you don’t want. It was many years before last year, that I hadn’t really cried. Even now, fear of what the future may bring scares the hell out of me. Yes, I know that ‘Fear’ and understand where my fellow travelers on this journey none of us signed up for, are coming from.

I have tried commenting on new posts, try to encourage, give hope and strength to those struggling, as I sometimes do. At the time of writing these comments, it helps me in a way. ‘Whistle a happy tune’ comes to mind. I know how you can feel the only one who feels this way. I know how guilty you feel and how the need to apologise for your posts, some of the group feels necessary. I have done this myself said sorry for something I have written. It is never needed. There is never a need to say sorry for venting your feelings and most of all your fears. I don’t know if my comments help but as long as they don’t hurt anyone, I will probably continue to try my best.

But.

Fear, the ‘f’ word, steals today. While we are feeling afraid , mostly of the unknown, mostly for the future, we allow fear to determine our present. It can stop us living life to the full. Stop us enjoying anything, having fun, just living a normal life. It can intimidate us. Make us think too hard. Most of all it can steal the very emotion we need to survive. Love. We all need to be loved and need to love our partners. We need to let the ‘fear’ word know, in no uncertain terms that it won’t win! It won’t control us! Fear is just a word. Yes it is a strong emotion and can undermine our very existence….if we let it. But ultimately, it is only a thought about the future, something we can’t control so we need to put it where it belongs when we can. Out of our heads. Easier said than done, I know I fight it every day.

When the emotions around our partners diagnosis hits us, we often feel totally alone. I did. It was suggested by the clinical team that I researched all I could. I did this but tried to do it in one hit. Big mistake! I became overwhelmed by the amount of information on the net. I decided , as I have always believed, that the best people to ‘talk’ to are those going through the same or having gone through the same. Hence my joining the support groups on social media. The help, support and information has been incredible and so helpful. Now its my turn to try to do the same. In my professional role, I find giving the client permission for the feelings and emotions they have, is one of the best tools I can use. We need to be told its okay. We need to be encouraged to explore our feelings. Be allowed to shout, swear, scream and vent.We need permission above all else and then acknowledgement. In my own small way, I want to give every one suffering from this awful destructive disease, whether the sufferer or the partner, permission to feel the fear, permission to feel anger. Sadness. injustice. Just to say it’s okay to be afraid. But don’t let cancer with a little ‘c’, be overtaken by the next worst word in our journey, the ‘f’ word. Fear. And then to acknowledge how hard it is to have a normal life during abnormal times. But we can try. Pushing the fear of tomorrow away until needed, if ever, and try and live one day at a time, is a start.

Things will change. Hopefully they will improve, get better but what they won’t do is stay exactly as they are currently. Solace? Not sure but true.

Days like today, Mothers Day, I find very hard every year but this year much harder. Lovely sunny weather, flowers beginning to bloom and trees beginning to come back to life are all beautiful things in my life today. But I am scared, fearful to feel happy, there it is again, the ‘f’ word. Because lurking in the shadows, waiting to push itself back into my mind and steal any enjoyment I am feeling , is the reality of our situation. I can’t let it in every time it pushes. I can’t let it steal my time with my family especially my time with my rock, David. I just can’t. Yes it takes every ounce of strength. I am whistling that happy tune and fooling everyone… but not, as the song says, ‘fooling myself’. But we owe it to ourselves to fight this fear. We owe it to our partners to fight. Together we can do this. I know we can. We have no choice. But let’s not make it about choice. Let’s make it about love. Love for our partners. Love for each other. Love for life itself. And love for us, ourselves. We can be as scared as we choose, we can worry our present away but it won’t affect our future. It won’t change anything. So let’s not do that.

I hope you all had a peaceful Sunday whatever you did and how ever you celebrated or didn’t. Thankyou for reading. x

The ‘Good’ cancer…. with a little ‘c’!

Years ago, cancer , the big ‘C’ was almost always a death sentence. A terminal illness. Not many survived. We have come a long way in the past few years, especially in researching and curing this horrible disease. Statistics on survival are the best ever and getting better every single day. Yes sometimes it still takes loved ones from us but most times with the help of medicine, belief and positivity, sufferers can become survivors. Not an easy journey but one that can be travelled, in a much better way, than in the past and the destination now is very often, arriving cured.

The definition of this horrid disease that creeps up on us in secret, sometimes hitting us when it is advanced and done damage, is this:

‘an evil or destructive practice or phenomenon that is hard to contain or eradicate ‘ and ‘any evil condition or thing that spreads destructively; blight’

So it amazes me that when we tell some people who our partners, husbands boyfriends, have Prostate cancer, the statement that is given back to us, very often is; ‘Oh well, that’s a good cancer.’

Like, ‘that’s okay then, it’s only prostate cancer, the good cancer’!

Good is something you might like, that might improve your life, that in the very least you wouldn’t mind having!

Good is ‘okay’. Good is’ pleasant’. Good is something to be happy about. Good, in this context is, that it isn’t important. Nothing to worry about!

No-one wants Prostate cancer or any other cancer. No-one’s life is improved by cancer. Every sufferer and their families, ‘mind very much’. Prostate cancer isn’t ‘okay’, it is important and is something we spend our whole lives worrying about.

Prostate cancer is not a ‘good cancer’. I know, that what some mean, is that most men can be cured or managed. That more men die with it than of it.I also know that the people who utter these niceties, are trying to be encouraging, to be kind, to be uplifting. But sorry, saying prostate cancer is a ‘good ‘ cancer is doing none of these to the listener. It belittles the hugeness of this illness. It belittles the devastating effect it has on family friends and sufferers. Nothing good about any of it!

Like all cancers, PC can be happening with no one having a clue of its existence. We are going about our lives and unless our man has problems, has reason to be worried about his body, his health, it has free access and the ability to rage through his body as it seems fit and no-one has any hint that its there! It is parasitic. It is cruel. It is demoralizing. It is everything the opposite of good. It is BAD through and through.

What cancer does, is takes on the role of dictator. It governs what we do. Where we go and what we say. It controls our life, makes us helpless to a point. Gives us huge sadness and anger that I for one, didn’t think possible. Messes with your head and your emotions. Changes you and not for the better. All of this especially in the early stages. How is any of that ‘good’?

The other thing that happens is this. During the treatment stages, everything that happens is affected by the way your life has changed. Life goes on, sometimes as ‘normal’ but sometimes still throwing rubbish at you with no account for your inability to cope with anymore. You then are controlled by the way this disease has made you, made your thoughts, your every waking hour affect everything in your life. Every waking hour and in your dreams. Things that might normally not have impacted on your life, suddenly become out of proportion. You break a cup and burst into tears. It was only a cup but in this cancer fog it becomes huge, devastating loss. Life’s little things, life’s usually mundane things that happen in everyone’s life can become huge unmanageable incidents and you feel lost all over again.

The ‘joys’ of prostate cancer are immense and affect partners, especially emotionally, sometimes more than the sufferer. This disease, as with most serious illnesses, spreads it around and shares the pain.

So, Prostate cancer is anything but the ‘good’ cancer believe me.

But having said all of this, it can be cured or managed as I have said and we will keep fighting it with our husbands, our men for as long as it takes. We are in this together, so cancer be warned. Angry women are a force to be reckoned with. We don’t give up easily. You want a fight, you have one?.

It cannot kill our love or our fight! We are the GOOD. Not any kind of cancer.

So if someone tells you that their husband or partner has prostate cancer, think again before you reply. If you don’t know what to say, say nothing. That is always better than ‘oh, that’s a good cancer though’.

Last weeks’ blog, Baby Loss was not part of this Journey but Thankyou to everyone who wrote to me and or shared my blog.

Thankyou for reading. x

Sorry about the text and any spelling errors, computer playing up. x

Baby Loss Day, my ‘Tribute’ To Lost Children and Their Mums.

Today is baby loss day. A day we remember all the babes born sleeping, all the pregnancies lost for any reason. I am placing these two poems today for myself. Looking after me. Taking time out to allow myself to grieve. I have never done that. Never had the time. The first poem is for the much wanted and already loved grandchild that we had hoped for so long but wasn’t to be. The second poem is for my baby son whom I lost many years ago when I was very unwell, very unhappy in a bad marriage. I had two daughters Lisa and Marie who were small children when my baby son was lost at 6 and a half months. My son was never mentioned after the day I lost him, so grieving was not an option.

My heart still breaks for these babies. I still haven’t released my balloons as I promised at the end of the second poem because life has dealt me blow after blow in the past 3 years since I first wrote the second poem. I was at a point in my life where I knew I had to face great losses, some recent at that time, some that I had never acknowledged. It seemed the right time to let them go. But the balloons are still here, along with my memory box of these two lost babies.I haven’t had the strength. But very soon, I hope to do this.

My love goes out to all who have lost babies for any reason and send every bit of love.

Thankyou for reading. x

The dream that never was.

I said I understood

But I didn’t.

I said it was okay

But it wasn’t

I said all would be well

But it isn’t.

I said I would be there

And I was.

I said that I would cope

And I did.

I said I would hold tight

And I held.

They say you never were

But you were.

They said that it was right

But it wasn’t.

I wanted to say ‘stay’

But I couldn’t.

I had to say goodbye

And I did.

But now the weeks have past

And I’m sad.

They say that time will heal

But it hasn’t.

They say Life will carry on

But yours didn’t.

I want to move on

But I’m stuck .

You were never really real

But I knew you

They said ‘it’ never was

But you were.

I tried to say goodbye

But I couldn’t.

I tried to let you go

But I can’t.

I said I understood

But I didn’t.

March 2^nd 2014.

2.30pm.

My baby boy.

Life was upside down when you happened

Everything was wrong but you were right.

I hoped that you could mend us but you couldn’t

My life was dark and then your tiny light.

With life so sad, the waiting seemed forever

You were a bright new life for me to hold

My little girls knew nothing of you

As soon as you were born, they would be told.

Things didn’t get any better but I was hopeful

When you arrived, then things would be okay

I wanted you so much, I loved you dearly

But sometimes that’s not enough, Life has its way.

On a lonely Tuesday morn, my wait was over

I tried to get us help but no one came.

So on my own your little life was taken

And after that nothing was the same.

You lay beside me for a fleeting moment

No cry, no sigh no breathe of life was there.

I couldn’t look, the pain was too engulfing

I crawled away and sat out on the stair.

I went downstairs my mind was screaming for you

The doctor came and told me what I knew.

She made me look and when I did, it broke me

What had my damaged body done to you.

Dad said God took you for a reason

I screamed that God had been so very wrong

They gave me pills, to let my body sleep

And then I did, but not for very long.

Then on the Wednesday morning I asked about you

What did they do with my precious 2^nd son

A question no one has ever answered

I never knew where my lost babe had gone.

For all the years between that awful day and now

I sometimes want to cry for you my love

Nowhere to go and sit and give you comfort

I can only hope you are up in heaven above.

Today I say goodbye with kisses

Release my love up to you in the skies.

With every pretty balloon sent up towards you

The tears of love will hopefully run from my eyes.

So goodbye my precious baby, far too long since that awful September day,

One day we will meet again. Look after my tiny dream for me please.

Love

Your Mum.x

Wife, Lover, Friend and Proud ‘mum’….so many faces.

Well this morning I had reason to look back to one year ago. 2016 brought wedding plans, a new member to our family and another little house to be built here ‘on the farm’. David was awaiting his biopsy for raised PSA but we, or rather I wasn’t worried as he was so well. He had no symptoms of anything wrong except a painful back now and again. The house was full of wedding dresses, purple bridesmaids dresses and silk flowers. A wonderful time except for my eldest daughter Lisa and her aunt Trisha, trying hard to make life very painful and difficult for me and take away something precious. Marie and I were concerned that they would try to spoil the big day so we kept the date a secret. Wasn’t easy and only told those coming the real date. I posted on social media the day after the event with photos. That kept the day safe. Mother’s Day which was earlier last year brought nasty comments on my Facebook page after I had wished mothers everywhere a happy day. Again from my daughter and ‘sister’. So it wasn’t all good and David’s health was a worry but we put it out of our minds until the wedding. In all our life was happy and forward-looking. Little did we know what was ahead.

We, David and I are not the couple people look at in restaurants etc. the typically married couple, not talking, just staring into the air or into their food. Sounds a bit unfair but we did an exercise in college about body language and how to recognize the relationship between two people out together. That is where this came from. We always have something to talk about, laugh about, discuss But we can also have silences, these times are sometimes beautiful. No need for words. Just enough being together. We are, as the title says, lovers, partners but most of all best friends. We laugh together, play together and lately cry together. We share everything, the good the bad and the ugly. Seem to have had a lot of the latter in the past few years. But this week, although it started so well, I have taken on another role and thankfully David has joined me.

Tuesday saw the removal of the catheter and the clips. He was very brave and has not yet stopped looking at his ‘war wounds’, as we are warriors, that term seemed fitting.This week I have gone back into a mothering role it seems at times. It began after surgery, but not like this past week. After his operation I naturally nursed my man through the pain, the discomfort, the frustration and the tiredness. All expected after major surgery. But this week things changed. My usually tidy bathroom became a cross between a sluice in a hospital and a laundry and supplies room. Pads, pants, wipes, creams and pails it seemed everywhere. Trying to get into the loo for my own ablutions was like a military exercise! Not to mention the times I needed it at the same time David did. Our utility room, which I hasten to mention is outside, has a loo and it has never been used so much since it’s being installation!

Although it has been hard, especially to watch my handsome, independent, fastidious husband look so weak, tired and frustrated, in some way, his vulnerability has renewed my love for him tenfold. But it isn’t fair, any of it.

I want to blame someone. I want to shout and scream,’It’s your fault, you did this’. But I can’t. It’s no one’s fault. Life is a lottery and it seems these past years instead of winning we have lost. Many times, many things. An unfair lottery in my opinion. No choice, not even of which games you enter.

It seems the partner, lover and friend are still there, on both sides but this new identity is something I found yesterday. After many many visits to the ‘little room’ and a dejected David exiting looking sad and glum. I was in my study writing when he almost bounced in through the door. ‘I did it’. ‘I managed to wait’. I was a little taken a back until the penny dropped (suitable pun here). Like a child rushing to tell his mum that he had used the potty, he hadn’t wet his pants; my big strong man was smiling, smiling with his eyes, something I haven’t seen for many months. He had managed to control himself, once. We laughed and almost cried at the same time. Only a little step forward but in another way a huge one. Yes we laughed and yes it was a joyous laugh but the reality is, it gave us hope. Gave him hope, something I was afraid he was losing.

In my work, when clients come to me at rock bottom, I draw a slope. The bottom is where they are when they come in to me, the top is where they are aiming for. They travel up indicated on my page with an arrow and are not allowed to come back down. They can plateau and stop, reach a hurdle and find their way over or stop for a rest, then travel onward and upward. Never going back down. In Carol Ann’s therapy, they are not aloud to go backwards. That is the drawing we have now, in my study, I might move it to the bathroom, David’s climb. Every hurdle, no matter how big or small, is a triumph. We reached a triumph yesterday that gave us hope.

So, today is the first on that slope. We awoke to the sound of birds singing. We could hear the ducks on our lake and ponds courting. The sun was shining. Spring had happened and this enforced the hope that better things were on the way.

I walked into the garden and could see the beginnings of buds on my shrubs, The daffodils are already out as are the snowdrops and primroses . A miracle in itself as the garden has been sadly neglected. David hurt his back last Autumn so the clearance didn’t happen. Everything has just died and fallen to the ground, leaving the whole garden, which is extensive, covered in overgrowth and weeds. But do you know what? In spite of all of this, all the overgrown brambles that have stayed, the dead plants that have lain where they fell, I can see the Aquilegia plants sprouting, the foxgloves trying hard to push through the rubbish with determination and little shoots everywhere peeping up and trying their hardest to see the light. So that’s what I have to do.

Through all the cancer with a little ‘c’, David’s and Tony , my brother’s. My sons illness and pain, all the hurtful rubbish ‘family insist on throwing at me and my own health problems, my life garden is overgrown and full. I have my own overgrown garden of weeds and unwanted dead plants so I need to become my own gardener. I will ‘paint’ all the nasties, the lies, the betrayal and the cancers brown. Then I can use my own adage for gardening. ‘If it’s brown, cut it down’. That’s what is needed, that’s what I need to do. Then I will see the light and future, whatever it brings. If the garden is full of dead old things, there is no room for the new and the fresh. Now where is the scythe.

So,more days to go with ‘nappy training’ and we will laugh our way through. I can’t allow David to get low, become depressed so I need to be his friend, his wife and his comedic element. We will try to see the funny side in everything.As a lady I admired, a comedienne the late Marti Caine said, ‘If you can laugh at yourself, it doesn’t hurt when others laugh at you’. So we will laugh together.

This week has brought despair, frustration, love hope and laughter. Long may it last.

Thankyou for reading.x

Emotions I Never Knew I had and The WE in place of HE.

What is it about PC that makes it different from other diseases, even other cancers?

When asked about David’s illness, I say ‘we’ now. We are going to the hospital,. We are going to have the catheter removed on Tuesday. The royal ‘we’ is used a lot of late.

When my husband had skin cancer, twice, I said, ‘David has skin cancer’. No We! No us!. David. As though it belonged to him and I was a bystander. HE HAD IT. WE didn’t!

I have a heart problem. WE don’t.

Why the difference? I could write a long boring essay on the facts, the statistics that I have read, re read and re read again! But I really only know my own reality, my truth.

Why the royal WE? because it is an”US’. We do have this awful heartbreaking disease. Me and my beloved man. Together we are on this journey even though you only read my words. Why? Because I love him. Because we are a couple. Because it isn’t just the good times we share, we share it all. Am I happy about the WE? No, not in a way. I am angry though!

Today I recognize my anger for what it is, I didn’t before, I don’t think.But I have seen it in my clients, those who have lost loved ones to death or a broken relationship. Any kind of loss can bring grief. This horrid visitor to our lives, PC; I use the word ‘visitor because no way am I going to make it welcome and become a permanent part of our lives!, has left me grieving.

My brother has cancer and yes, it’s scary and yes he is going to die. A huge reason to hate cancer. But we, his family don’t have it. We can care for him, me from a distance, we can make sure his life is as good as it can possibly be. From the outside. Of course it hurts and of course we feel for him. But WE don’t have the disease.

When my best friend Mo had lung cancer, the same kind Tony has, I still loved and cared for her. She stayed the strong funny, witty person she had always been. Still applied her make up and dressed well, right until the end.She was the same person but with an incurable illness and it broke my heart. But WE didn’t have it.

There was no royal WE in either of these sad and horrid illnesses.

Illness and disease touches everyone when it strikes. It is scary, unpredictable and usually unexpected. The families of the sufferer become carers, say all the right things. Do all the right things. But ultimately the cancer is in the one person. Everyone is affected to some extent, some more than others but it is the patient who has the illness, the pain the symptoms. Maybe sometimes the sufferer changes, pain can do that. Fear can do that. Maybe they are not able to do the things usually done by them. Family step in and help, they adapt.

But.

When PC strikes, all of the above happens but the cancer spreads emotionally,psychologically to the sufferer and to their partners or care givers. David has changed. I have changed. Life has changed and so has my world. In my world WE have cancer, with or without a little ‘c’. It’s there, every minute of every day.

How cross would Mo have been with me today. ‘Angry never helps Carol Ann’, she would say pointing her well manicured finger at me. ‘It’s a wasted energy and can achieve nothing’. But maybe it can. As the photo says, it protects me from sad.

With Mo as with Tony, sadly we knew what was happening. We knew Mo would not survive as we know Tony won’t either. This disease is still a killer in many guises but as I know, sometimes it can be removed. It can be killed off.

David is fighting pc, WE are fighting pc and its scary. We don’t know what the outcome will be. We don’t know if he has been fortunate to have had every bit of this nasty, removed by Robotics. We may never really know. We have to wait. Wait to see the consultant. Then wait for the results of PSA tests. There has been so much waiting already.That is all we have for now, maybe forever. I think that’s the biggest difference. This cancer ‘with a little ‘c’ is a gamble. We don’t have a prognosis as such. We don’t know what will or may happen. WE. I repeat, this is US. not David, and I wouldn’t have it any other way, except to take it from him if I could.

Living with fear is something I did as a child. Maybe over the past 27 years, before life soured for us, I became complacent. Let my guard down. Was too happy being happy. Maybe I was smug, I had it all. A wonderful man who loves me more than I deserve. A loving family and living in a wonderful beautiful part of the world, surrounded by my menagerie of animals and a world of wildlife. Doing a job I loved. Yes maybe I was smug.

That’ll teach me!

I need to go back to the dark days. My early life where I learned, at an early age, to be hypervigilant. Watching for the next bad thing to happen. Letting my fear keep me as safe as possible and that wasn’t very safe.

But no, not really. I know in reality that I couldn’t have prevented the past 3 plus years and particularly stopped this latest unwanted guest from creeping in through the back door.

I couldn’t have known so couldn’t have prepared.

I never knew I could be this angry.

I never knew I could hate with such venom.

I have hurt in the past but the hurt I feel now, for the man I love with all of my heart, is huge. Beyond my comprehension.

Helpless I know. I have met her many times before. But before this latest nasty hit me in the face, helpless never stood a chance. Carol Ann told herself off. Pulled herself together. Became logical and with her back straight and her inner strength, took hold of helplessness and threw her out of the way and moved forward.

The past few weeks, watching the man I love go through so much, seeing him weak, poorly and yes, at one time, scared and helpless, trying to stay strong has sapped my reserves and left me lacking. I am tired. Angry. Feeling helpless and sad beyond words. I can’t sleep, listening as you do with a new baby in the house, making sure David is okay. Waiting if he goes to the bathroom, scared that he may have a Vasal Vagal attack and collapse,as he has done in the past. Trying to pretend to be asleep when he wanders back into our bedroom. Our beautiful peaceful bedroom that has lost its ability to calm me. Lying quietly in the small hours, wanting to cry, shout or scream but pretending, once again to be asleep.

The days seem endless rituals of bathing, emptying bags, checking fluid intakes etc. No respite. The worry is the hardest to do deal with. I have searched for the ‘worry button’ to switch it off but to no avail. Even if the treatment has been successful and the cancer has gone, there may be side effects that can cause distress to the man and to his partner. He may have erectile dysfunction, may be incontinent. Being selfish, as long as I still have David, these things are insignificant but I know they may affect him. That is where the ‘I’ comes back big time. I will reassure him he is every bit as sexy as he has always been to me, every bit a man. If he has incontinence, we will cope. By that time I hope I have regained my ability to make him smile and nothing then will seem as bad. But as yet, we don’t know any of this and so the wait goes on.

Where has the laughter gone?

We could always make each other laugh. Even in the early days of our unwanted knowledge. Everyday, when life was hard, especially over the past few years, David could always make me smile.

Now he looks like I feel. Sad. Down.

I don’t show him how I feel. I smile and tell him funny things I have seen or read on social media but I am aware that the smile doesn’t reach my eyes.

A little while ago, talking about the future, David looked at me and said.

‘It might not be over yet’

I heard but didn’t, if you know what I mean. I didn’t want to hear.

‘If it hasn’t all gone, if he didn’t get it all, I will have to have more treatment, maybe months of it’ he continued. Like it was a revelation!

I know! I know! I wanted to scream back but didn’t.

At first I couldn’t speak but then heard encouraging words, positive, strong words almost matter of factly coming from somewhere..

‘Okay but we don’t KNOW yet, if we need more treatment so be it. We will face it together and pull through. We will beat this!’

Who said that? was my first thought.

I said that. It was my voice that seemingly unaware was speaking. Somewhere, deep inside of me Carol Ann was doing her best to push through, just when she was needed.

So, that’s why we think of pc affecting US. It does, we face it together, all of us. Each man with PC if he has a partner, a care giver, they are in it together. It affects both patient and partner in different but equal measures. I call it the ‘couple’s cancer’. It changes us, our outlooks and our lives.For those on here don’t have a ‘we’, then I encourage you all to join the Facebook groups and gain the love, support and strength that I gain from the members, who are becoming friends.

WE, David and I will not become one of the statistics. It isn’t David it is US and always will be.

It is OUR lives that are affected or infected. It is US who go through the pain, the hurt, the fear and the sad. Again, ‘in sickness and in health’.

One day soon, I hope, my old friend HUMOUR will return and that will give me more ammunition, just as it has always done in the past.

In my last blog I said I wished I could unknow what I now know. Un hear what I now have heard.

But Now.

I am afraid of the ‘not knowing’ the next bit. Not hearing the words I need to hear that will affect the rest of our lives.The ‘what if’s’ come back in full force.

I know, some will say ‘never satisfied’. but this is just how I feel. Sorry.

The other things that come with cancer with a little ‘c’. Are muddle headedness, confusion and fear of life itself. At first the muddled headed we laughingly likened to baby brain. Now it’s the same kind of thing for a different reason, not said with laughter and ‘pc brain’ is just as bad.

These last few blogs, have been very low, sorry. I hope readers can understand my need to write and can always scroll past. Writing is freedom, freedom from the heaviness of being the partner of a man with pc , and a sufferer of the same.

Thanks for reading and thanks for comments last week. xx

WISHING LIFE WOULD STAND STILL…JUST FOR A MOMENT

Firstly I want to apologise, not for posting on social media but for seeming to be self-indulgent and weak. I am neither, I hope. I write because it helps. I write because I can be honest. I write to offload the pressures of this thing we call life.

I write…because…

When cancer with a little ‘c’ strikes, the world doesn’t stop.

It may feel like it, momentarily. You might want it to . But it doesn’t.

When cancer with a little ‘c’ strikes, other things don’t stop happening.

Other things don’t become less important. Other things don’t get better.

At times you may think they will, but they won’t.

No. Life goes on. Problems still come, family still get sick. People can still be nasty. Those you love can still become terminally ill. Nothing stops just because you now have first hand knowledge of the ‘c’ word.

How I wish they did! How I wish things came one at a time, enough to worry me and enough for me to cope well with. Two things I can deal with, even three serious issues but when they keep coming I become over-whelmed.

In the beginning of this journey I never asked to take, I wished I could un-know what I know. I wished I could un-hear the words the consultant uttered in his brief 3 minute slot. I wanted the before cancer time back, the calm, the love, the good and the beautiful.

The words of a song I knew years ago. ‘How can the world go on turning, how can the sun still shine. Don’t they know its the end of my world…..’. That’s how I felt.

When cancer strikes, life goes on. It still deals it’s blows. Still sends its tests. Some-days you wonder if and how you will survive.

But you do.

I have been very grateful this week to my FB friends on the 2 groups I belong and my other friends for support, love and advice.I was told to ‘keep writing’. So here I am. I was reminded by a young woman I met through my work, that I am a strong lady and have survived some horrendous times. Thankyou Andrea Jayne Howells,for those words. Dany Sherlock Park,suggested I take myself back to the worst time in my life, and tell myself it will never be that bad again. Remind myself that I survived that.I often use this in my work.

Back a few years, during my Masters course, I had to explore my life as part of my counsellor training. That was hard. But the thing that got me through, that helped me more than anything, was writing everything that happened to me, warts n all, down. So I wrote my autobiography. Laying ghosts. Revisiting the horrors that were my childhood was horrendous.At that time, I thought childhood was the worst time of my life and I survived to tell the tale so to speak.

A few years after the book, I became entrenched in nasty wicked hoax, over the Internet, answering a plea for help from a young woman who had read my book. This continued for 6 months, 24/7 honing in on my emotions, and entrenching me in the most horrendous nightmares that brough my own childhood back into my life. Flashbacks, night mares and every fear I had as a child. It resulted in her being taken to court.

That I thought was the worst time of my life .

The past three plus years, with ‘family’ doing their best to break me, to hurt me, to ruin my reputation and my life, was heartbreakingly difficult especially as it all began with lies from my own daughter. That was the worst time of that part of my life.

Added to all of this, the last grandchild I was ever to have was lost and my heart broke.

Throughout the past 31 years, obviously not childhood and young adult hood, the only real constant was David, my husband. Hearing he had cancer WAS the worst time of my life. But the worst had only just begun, I see that now.

As you know, I recently had a heart scare and am waiting to see if I need a stent. So I am not as well as I would like to be or need to be to look after David. This past week, week one after Robotic surgery has tested us both. To see him in pain, was just too awful. To watch him watching me, when I did the things he can’t do, was again hard. Helping him with personal tasks, was so difficult for him. Making sure he drank enough, is drinking enough, seeing to the things he usually sees to, is hard and I admit to having to struggle through. David is a wonderful man, looking after me he says his favourite thing in life and he does it so very well. Now I am trying to do the same for him but falling short somewhat. One of the things I find hard, is walking the dogs, they still need to go out and I often went with my husband but after my scare, not being well, I didn’t always go. Now I have to. It isn’t their fault we are both unwell, it isn’t anybodys fault. Theres the rub. If it was I could blame! But I have no one to blame so I moan, on social media.

Wednesday brought me online grocery shopping. What a fiasco that was and I won’t bore you with the details but a well-known store had never heard of me although I have shopped there for at least 10 years so I couldn’t log on! Small issue really in the scheme of things.

Thursday brought the devastating news that my son may have a potentially fatal or crippling illness and I can’t get to him.

So David has had major cancer surgery. My brother Tony, whom I love dearly and can’t get down to see, has a few months left if he is ‘lucky;’ and now my son, who again I can’t visit. Yesterdays posts were a culmination of everything.

So life does go on. It still deals its blows.

Still send sends tests and once again, risking a telling off, IT’S NOT FAIR!

It’s not looking after my husband I don’t like: I do that willingly.

Its not the personal ‘bits’ I do those willingly.

It’s the responsibility of staying strong and well enough to care for him properly. It’s watching him in pain and discomfort.

It’s not being able to see family I love at a time they need to see me.

So looking back, yes I have survived a lot but really don’t want anything else to have to survive Thankyou!

Writing this I realise my biggest emotions today.

Firstly its the loneliness.

I can’t let David know how I feel.

I can’t let David know of my worry.

I can’t let him know of my pain and hurt.

Secondly the sad.

I can’t let him see my sad. So again in the words of a song, ‘I whistle a happy tune’ and pretend. Something I became expert at from a very young age.

Oh how I want ‘before cancer ‘time back. When ,life was good. When David was well, fit and healthy. When Tony was the same and my son was okay. When I looked out of my window and saw the beauty of the countryside that surrounds us ‘here on the farm’.

I don’t see that beauty now.

So here I am, saying sorry. Not for writing but for moaning.

Not for saying it’s not fair, because it isn’t.

But for showing that even ‘a strong lady’, your words Andrea, can sometimes become a quivering wreck and feel anything but strong. Physician heal thyself has once again failed me.

All I ask is that nothing else is thrown at us for at least alittle while. Not a lot to ask is it?Let me just stand still, in peace, for a moment.

Thankyou for reading x

The Before. The Event. And now.

Well here I am, updating after the ‘event’ as promised. Maybe a bit muddled as I am shattered, emotionally and physically. Yes, it was David who had the surgery but I feel as though I was there with him. I feel that although the cancer with a little ‘c’ was removed from him, something huge has been removed from me. Not sure what, can’t actually put my finger on it but something has happened to my psychological being. Relief I suppose could be part of it, not sure but I feel different.

The build up to the day was hectic, horrible and yet a kind of excitement hit us both. Just wanted it gone I suppose. We have known since last August that the cancer had to be taken out, we were becoming impatient and a bit scared that time was risking it spreading, but now assured, as it is so slow-growing, the time we waited was okay. We travelled down to Cardiff and everything was in place ‘here on the farm’ and we felt confident that the young man house sitting would cope. The hotel was comfortable, not the kind of place we would choose to holiday but I wanted something a little bit more ‘homely’ to be able to relax. We had a meal and went back to the room. That’s when I noticed a change in my husband, something I had never seen in his face. He is strong, emotionally and physically. He is pragmatic and his favourite saying is, ‘we are where we are’. But that night I knew he wasn’t where he wanted to be, neither of us were. He held onto me as we lay on the bed and ‘watched’ TV. Don’t know what was on and I don’t suppose he does. David has never been ill, never had an anesthetic or surgery since he was a baby. I had asked him if he was scared and he always assured me that he wasn’t. We made ready for bed in silence and them settled down to try to sleep. He placed his arms around me and held on tight. He always says how much he loves me but that night it was different. Almost desperate that I understood. We cuddled and stayed locked in the comfort of each other.

I managed about 2 hours sleep and I don’t think David slept much more and then the day we had dreaded was here.

On arrival at the hospital, he was calm. They took him onto the ward at around 9am and he came out several times to see me during the morning. Each time asking if I was okay and telling me he loved me. He was reassuring me and I tried to act normal but had forgotten how, nothing was ‘normal’. The consultant came in and took my man into the ward. After a few minutes he returned saying he was going now, to be prepped. He went but came back a few minutes later and kissed me and told me how much he loved me and I told him I wouldn’t leave the hospital and would be there when he came round. He gave me the strangest smile and went.

The rest of the day is a blur. My daughter arrived around 12 noon, we went for lunch but I couldn’t eat. We then went back to the day room for a very long wait.

At around 6.30 the nurse said I would be able to see him but they couldn’t stabilise his oxygen levels. I was terrified and shocked when I first saw him. I know these ops are ‘routine’. I know almost every one is a success but our lives of late have been anything but easy, anything but straight forward and I was scared. The what ifs’ came fast and furious and I felt about to faint. The nurse sat me down and reassured me that sometimes, after a long operation and a lot of anaesthesia, this can happen.I hadn’t told anyone about my heart scare, tried not to think about it. He looked grey and asleep but after my holding his hand for a while, he raised my fingers to his lips and I wanted to cry with relief. We left around 10 pm when he was exhausted and needed to sleep.

So, that is the update I promised. The surgeon says he saved the nerves on the right hand side but couldn’t on the left, where the cancer was. He also removed the peripheral flesh and lymph nodes , hoping , he said to remove any trace of the cancer. I do hope he is right and have to, at this point tell myself he has, removed it all I mean.

I know some reading this will think, ‘they can’t say that, sometimes it is still there etc’. But today, I have to believe that it has gone. I just have to.

Since coming home, the evening after the operation, even though they offered to keep him another night, life has been exhausting. I know it is the man who has the surgery, but believe me I went through it with him. We do, if we love someone, we wish we could take it all away but we can’t. Watching him in such pain, mostly from the gas, was so hard. Seeing him look so ill, hurt beyond belief and I felt helpless.The first night though, trying to get the catheter in the right place to drain, making him comfortable in bed as he insisted he wanted his own bed, was exhausting. I know it was much worse for him but having had no proper sleep for days before the surgery or since, I wasn’t at my best. But we got there.

Today, with lots of peppermint tea, thanks to the guys who suggested this, a few pain killers and getting used to having me wait on him, he is looking slightly better. The gas pain has subsided and we have actually been able to laugh a little. Mostly at the ‘pants’ I bought him, with lovely patterned lines. Quite sexy I thought.

I was however, not prepared for what happened this morning, after settling him onto the sofa, after walking him around for a while, I wasn’t prepared for the tears. David doesn’t cry but cry he did. I thought it was relief and I suppose in a way it was. I put my arms around him and he held on tight. ‘I didn’t think I would be here today’ he said in a tiny voice. I was shocked, scared, didn’t know what to say. After reassuring him that tears were okay, he explained that he was and had been terrified of the anaesthetic. We both know of someone close who had suffered badly. A friend of mine had died during an operation because of anaesthesia and another was left brain-damaged. I hadn’t thought about those people before his operation, self-protection I suppose, but he had. Now I understood the ‘change ‘ in him the night before the operation. We sat and just held on for as long as he needed. Then I thought, my David was back.

So, the operation is over and we are one step forward to kicking ‘cancer’s butt, but we know we have a long way to go. For all of those men going through this or about to, stay strong. Talk about your fears, tell those you love how you feel, as when you feel it. And for the wives, girlfriends etc. I admire all of you and know now just how hard it is. Let the feelings out whenever you can and as often as you need.

This is my journey so I can only tell it from my perspective and so far, it sucks! I am trying my hardest to be strong. To care for him and look after him properly. I still feel so unwell but am hiding this from him. The other thing I have to hide is my anger towards someone who should be here supporting us and has now, when we need it most, refused because of his pig headedness. Something that happened last July, at his own hand and his own choice, he has taken himself out of the family circle. I thought this would bring him back in, that he would see how we need all the support we can get, how my daughter also needs support, but no. I have to keep this from David and that is hard. So, I am , like all wives, carers, care givers, taking care of the man I love and protecting him from certain things and always will. I will do my best and cope as I always do. I won’t let him down and will love him through it all. ‘In sickness and in health’ is tattooed on my mind and heart and I do it willingly as he would me.

So coping I am. But sometimes, I just wan’t to crawl away and scream. Yes I am still angry. Yes I am still scared. Yes I am still sad that life for him is different, for now at least. That our life together may be different in the future. But I can’t show any of this and just hope I can find the strong lady, I know is inside of me, in spite of everything and do the best for the man I love. I will look for that quiet place, possibly up in the fields where my beloved horse has her final resting place and cry the tears that I so need to shed.

I will keep updating on my page. Thankyou for reading.xx

Forgiveness? The time has come…. or not.

These past weeks I have read a great deal about forgiveness. Something I have done, mostly for family, over and over again. But some things are just too big to forgive. The hurt that is inflicted, the damage that is done and the pain endured at the hands of another, are sometimes just too huge to deserve forgiveness. I have realized this only too often over the past 3 years. As a child I attended church and Sunday School and was taught that to forgive was paramount. At that time in my life, things were happening to me that should not happen to any child. I knew I had to try to forgive but struggled and asked God over and over to help me. He didn’t. Now as a woman, I will never find it in me to forgive those who hurt me, hurt little Carol Ann.

Likewise, the past events, courtesy of my daughter and sister, that have taken their toll and left me reeling and unwell, can never be forgiven. The time stolen from me over the past years, time that should have been given to David and my family here; but were wasted trying to make things right, trying to salvage my name, my reputation and my living, were all so wicked and undeserved that forgiveness does not come into it.

We, David and I, have wasted so much time on others, people and things, that I think now were not worthy of our time or our worry, but were thrust upon us in the cruelest manner. So, no, forgiveness is not in the plan except forgiveness for myself for wasting precious time and energy and allowing things to make me ill.

Life should be so different, this is possibly the scariest time of my adult life and I should be able to pick up the phone and gain comfort from family and friends whom I spent a lifetime loving unconditionally. But because of the lies and made up stories ‘family’ are not there for me or us. Now at least, some of these family will realise who is telling the lies and who is telling the truth, some comfort I suppose. My daughter is still lieing and protesting her innocence in her latest nasty against those she has deceived but, I hope, longer being believed.I have a few close friends, family who now know the truth but as a parent, as we get older, as we go through the trials of illness, we should be able to gain comfort from our children, as they always have from us when ever necessary.

David and I met after our children were part grown and he has been a wonderful dad to Marie and tried with Lisa but was not really given a chance, despite his every effort. These past weeks we have both stared mortality in the face and made some would say, selfish decisions.

We are a few days from David’s operation for Prostate cancer and have talked a great deal about our children, all of them. Me having this latest heart scare has brought back happy memories of my daughter’s childhoods but also all the nasties of the past 3 years.

Now it is all about us. I need to get myself well, have the Stent inserted asap, after David has recovered. We need to put ourselves first, concentrate on each other, something we have never done because of putting family first. We have also taken care to plan ahead so that our beloved ponies, who can live for 40 or more years, are cared for, together as a herd, when we can no longer look after them. We are working our way through our ‘tick’ list and putting our house in order so to speak. and then will begin our bucket lists. We will love each other through everything life continues to throw at us. Yes we will get frustrated, worn out, scared and angry but through it all we will share our pain with the thing that has helped us through every other trial sent to us, humour.

Don’t get me wrong. We don’t intend on going anywhere, well not just yet. But it makes sense,this one time, to make sure everything is in place . A ‘just in case’ that puts our minds at rest.

Currently I am only reading positive posts on my group pages, self-protection if you like. I have learned so much from other sufferes of PC and they have comforted me, given me insight and strength and also made me laugh. So important.Thank you all.

So. Wednesday will see us off to Cardiff, having left the house, stables and barn covered in post it notes as reminders to our young friend who is house sitting. We, David and I will stay in a hotel close to the hospital for a night of cuddles and comfort I hope.

Thursday will see us at the hospital bright and early, well early at least, and I will stay in the building until David is back out of recovery, that will be the first time I will be allowed to see him post op.

We hope and pray that the operation goes well and straightforward, no hiccups but I will be close, if needed.

Then Marie who will have joined me in the day, will take me back to the hotel and stay with me for the night.

Friday, if all goes well, Marie and I will collect David from the hospital and we will return home and recovery will begin.

I only have a phone that makes calls and receives calls so I won’t be able to update as some on here do. But I will get back to everyone asap after we are home, maybe the weekend.

We know there will be down times, trials and difficult times. Things we have never faced before but we will be facing them together. We still have a long way to go on this journey we never asked to take but will take each day at a time. We won’t be thinking of the ‘what ifs’, only concentrating on recovery and love. One day soon, we won’t be saying David has cancer but David had cancer.

Please think of us and send your good thoughts. But understand one thing cancer with a little ‘c’, we are gonna kick your butt!!

Thanks for reading and watch this space. xx

Just Want to Say, It’s okay.

My blog is late this week as I have been unwell but as it is a special day, I felt I wanted to write aso here I am.Please escuse any mistakes.

32 years ago, after walking away from a failed marriage and a few relationships short-lived, the last thing I wanted was a man in my life. I had two daughters, my cats and my little dog, 2 jobs and was struggling to keep all the plates in the air. Money was tight but I tried to provide all that was necessary for my little family. I had some very close friends and some health issues but all in all life was okay.

A friend of mine who was recently divorced, persuaded me to go ‘clubbing’. I had missed all of this in my early life and it was glamorous, exciting and fun. Dancing was something I loved and stayed on the dance floor for as long as possible. Then one night, July 19th 1985, I met a tall dark handsome stranger, just like in the movies. His name was David. He asked me to dance, to my surprise and amazement, as I thought he had been watching my friend Julie, a very beautiful girl, but no, he had been watching me. He then asked to take me out the following week. We dated for a while but split up twice, because neither of us wanted a relationship but always got back together and married 30 years ago this September.

We had some wonderful times and some not so good, these, mostly courtesy of family. We moved from Hampshire to Wales in 1996 when David was moved to Bristol with the MOD. I became very ill and was told I would never work again and could possibly become disabled. I wasn’t going to let that happen and investigated any way possible to get back into the work place. I have always loved people and always been able to talk to anyone and have them open up to me if they wished to. So I took myself off to college, then University and embarked on my current career. I gained a Masters in Cognitive Behavioural Psychotherapy and opened my own practice. Wonderful years, especially working within the Valley communities of South Wales.

I wrote my autobiography that instantly became a Number One bestseller and life was good.Through all of this David was my support and encouragement. During the writing of my life story, mostly done at night when every one was asleep, I revisited the horrors of my childhood. This often brought nightmares and flashbacks. Again my husband was always there, holding me and keeping me safe.

In 2012, I was subjected to a nasty cruel hoax that continued for 6 horrific months and changed my life and my self-confidence and spoiled my peace. Then the following 3 years were the worst in my adult life with cruelty and bullying from ‘family’ as I have mentioned before. These were horrid times but my ‘rock’ would hold me while my heart broke, gently smoothing my tears.

The reason for today’s blog, is that through everything, good and bad, David has been there at my side. Hospital visits, of which there have been many. Animal losses, family and friend losses, always able to make me feel better.He has laughed with me, cried for me, held me and comforted me and has always given me back my ‘safe’. He has witnessed me at my worst and when my heart was broken by the very people who should have loved me.

Now on this Valentine’s day we are approaching the time for him to undergo Robotic surgery for Prostate cancer. That in itself is a scary prospect and he is being so strong. As I have said before, David doesn’t get stressed, he doesn’t worry and is always pragmatic. He sees the cancer as the bad apple in the fruit bowl and it needs removing. Then we will see if any of the ‘decay’ has affected any thing else.

The past few weeks , when I should have been there for him, I have been quite ill. We have spent 2 complete days in hospital, having scans, etc and my blood pressure dropped dangerously low. They have found the cause now, a blocked artery in my lower neck and last Tuesday they were going to send me by ambulance from Aberystwyth hospital to Morristons in Swansea, as an urgent case. I was terrified as you can imagine but all the time thinking of David’s op. How can I look after him when I can’t look after myself. Eventually it was decided that I could go home and wait. I am waiting. I have an appointment for a Vascular consultation to assess whether I need a stent inserted into the blocked artery. Bit frightening but nothing I can currently do.

So this week I have been scared for me, scared for David but realised that I was never scared for us. We have been through some horrible emotional times these past years and survived and we will survive this. Not sure how but we will. As long as our bodies heal, our love for each other and beyond that, our friendship, will see us through.

I also realize that I have been so worried about how we will manage this, how we will get through it, how I will be able to care for him, that it has helped make me so poorly. I am very hard on me and that has to stop. I am not superwoman and if I am ill, I am ill! I know that doesn’t help the situation but making myself worse by worrying won’t either. I have been so scared and felt ashamed. I have been left wanting and felt ashamed again. Felt helpless and inadequate and that has rendered me more scared and guilty. I need to put this right.

One of the most important things I try to do for clients, especially when they present with similar feelings, is to give them permission to feel the way they feel. To say its okay to be scared. It’s okay to be angry, frustrated, resentful etc. It’s okay to be human with all it’s frailties. To give permission removes guilt and helps the healing process,in clients with grief, sickness, trouble or pain. Today I give myself that permission.

Valentines Day is about love. It’s about showing that love and appreciating the little things. I have a wonderful husband who is always there for me no matter what. My being ill hasn’t changed that, never has and his having cancer has certainly not changed my love for him. If anything I love him more for his strength, his calm and his still managing to make me smile.

So to every care giver, I give you permission to have these feelings,but more importantly, give yourself that permission and life will seem a little easier.

Now, I am very tired but wish you all a good week and please spare a thought for us next Thursday when David has surgery with me at his side as long as I can be.

Thanks for reading. x

Why Now!?Don’t need it! Don’t Want it!

Today is a bad day. I only usually blog on Sundays but today I feel the need to write. A few weeks ago I had a strange ‘episode’ in the night. I went to get out of bed and the room began spinning around me. The mirror on the wall behaved as though it were being chased and trying to catch up with the painting on the other side of the room. I tried to focus on one thing, as learned when dancing and having to spin. Focus on one spot and the spinning is bearable. Couldn’t do that and it certainly was not bearable. The spinning seemed to get faster and faster and was so scary. I had to wake my husband to take me to the bathroom. I couldn’t stand properly and couldn’t balance. He helped me and then helped me back to bed. HE HELPED ME! He has cancer and he helped me!! That just isn’t right! Even when I closed my eyes the room continued to spin. It reminded me of years ago, when I had possibly had too much wine, but now being tea total, that wasn’t the cause. It disoriented me and stole all of my confidence , this lasted most of the following morning.

A few weeks later, after a similar episode and because I need to be well for David, I mentioned it at my weekly blood test and my GP has ordered a head CT. He thinks it is stress related but needs to make sure it is nothing else. It could be inner ear issues, or stress Vertigo but whatever it is I don’t want or need it. Not now. Not when I need to be my strongest.

David has often nursed me through illnesses that I have had, after operations and comforted me through all the nasties by family, over the years. He is, as I have said before, my rock. And here am I, physically falling apart just when he needs me. This can’t happen! I won’t let it. But I can’t stop it. I know illness has no time agenda, I know these things happen but once again I am saying, it’s not fair! I want to be there for him, be at his side as he goes down to surgery and there when he returns. I want to be with him through everything and anything he may go through and I need to be fit and strong. But what if, I am ill at the wrong time? What if I can’t be there when he has surgery? What if…….

When my daughters were growing up and if they were unwell, I was there, no matter how I felt. Mothers do that , we just get on with it. I have always ‘got on with it’. So why can’t I now?!?

Here is the physical why. When these ‘attacks’ occur, I can’t stand unaided. I can’t see properly, I can’t balance. I feel sick and over hot. So am unable to actually look after me let alone anyone else. I am scared to go to sleep in case it happens so my tiredness is growing every day.

Emotionally and psychologically, I am so scared, that all the worry and stress, caused my ‘family’, my eldest daughter and youngest sister particularly, have rendered me so poorly I won’t cope.This vendetta against me,hasn’t gone away as I thought it would and hoped it had.

I write on here , as you all know, to help process things that happen in my Journey with cancer with a little ‘c.’ Last week, I had many likes and many comments and lovely words of encouragement and thanks for sharing my thoughts and feelings. One of the reasons for the blog is to hopefully help others who feel this way, or the way I feel. I want to say it’s okay to be scared, to be angry, to be sad. Being given permission is something I do in my work with clients. I see no wrong in what I write as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone and is the truth.

I was ‘told’ by my daughter Lisa, to remove the blog and stop writing about her. Not personally, not in an email but as a comment on my blog!. I won’t do that. For the past 3 years she has shut me out of her life, because of my honesty. The only contact has been through nasty lies on social media. She has caused me so much pain and hurt that I don’t recognize the girl who grew up with me and with whom I shared a great love.No emails, no phone calls, nothing. She wishes I were dead and has ‘replaced me’ with her evil aunt. I have accepted that now but am confused as to why, if she has ‘kept clear ‘ of me, her words, she is reading my posts and my blog? Our families give us most of our memories. Some good, some bad but they are there no matter what. Our past influences and impacts on our present. The things done to me over the past 3 years are the very reason I am so low and so poorly. If none of that had happened, I wouldn’t be so run down now and would not be afraid of not being here for my wonderful husband and wouldn’t be writing this blog. So I won’t remove anything and will continue to write as I need to, to help me cope with how things are.

I am scared today, for the reasons given above. The what ifs! I am angry that I am here, in this cancer place. I am angry that the man I love is having to go through what he is going to go through. I am angry that ‘family’ have rendered me this low.

I will close now with thankyou’s to everyone who wrote to me last week. On my posts or in pm’s. It means a lot. I want to send you all, ‘sufferers and care givers’, my love and respect on this journey none of us chose to take. Hugs to you all x