Category: Loss. Emotions.Family. Bereavement. Missing people.Tomorrow. Grief.

During this journey with PC, one I had no idea I would ever travel, I have learned the importance of having all the facts. Being told all of the truth. Facts, honestly told, become knowledge and knowledge changes our perception, our mind-set and influences our decisions. Honesty and truthfulness are characteristics I live my life by. Mostly it has paid off, sometimes I have lost out. But more of that later.

A little knowledge is a dangerous thing they say. For me, for us, it certainly was when David was first diagnosed. We ‘knew’ he had PC and that it was a ‘safe’ cancer. People said things to make us stop worrying, to help I suppose but it didn’t. It just lulled us into a false sense of security. We believed that it wasn’t a serious condition. That it didn’t spread. That men never died from PC, they might die with it, but it wouldn’t be the cause of death. It didn’t shorten your life, you won’t always know you have it. It is an old man’s disease, so in light of all of this ‘knowledge’ David would be okay. So we had been talking, at that stage, of leaving things alone, doing nothing. There was no importance put on his diagnosis, we thought. But the untruths we ‘knew’ the ‘lies’ about this cancer with a little ‘c’ almost made us do nothing. Oh how glad I am that I began to doubt these things, I wanted and needed to know the truth, so that I could cope with  it, however bad. I needed to be prepared, to know. So the real truth, was what I went seeking. The ‘truth’ we ‘knew’ was actually a kind of ‘lie’. So the research for the truth, the actual facts, of this nasty disease  began.

I joined groups on social media who knew about PC, people who had actually been there or were still there. This is where I always look for facts. Nobody can actually talk about a subject and say they ‘know’ unless they know! Unless they have been there, told the story and got the T-shirt so to speak. In our case, the man badge. We learned that PC can and does kill. That it is always a condition to take seriously. I read of horrific statistics and also learned of a failure in the awareness of this horrid blight that had attacked my husband and therefore me. I learned that many men did die, do die, usually those who knew nothing about PC, nothing about a condition, a disease that kills more men that breast cancer kills women. Some who had been misdiagnosed or diagnosed too late. How did this happen? How were we not aware? Why had we not read about something so blatantly worrying and scary? This is the knowledge we should all have, this is the honesty, the truth we should all be told. Ignorance, in cases such as this disease, is not bliss. It is dangerous, life threatening and unnecessary. I am so grateful for groups like these on FB, I have learned so much. Yes I did sometimes want to ‘un know’, to ‘un hear’, to ‘un learn’, of course I did but knowledge it a great asset in making informed decisions.

So the truth in this case was imperative. People speaking honestly and openly on here was priceless. Without the groups input, who knows where we would be today. So thanks everyone. I will continue to blog on here about our journey as I don’t think it is ever over. Yes we are getting undetectable in our, or rather David’s PSA tests but the legacy of the trauma of cancer remains, at least it does for me. I have spoken on here about my worry every time David feels unwell, has a pain etc. because until his first routine PSA test, he had never been ill. Had 1 sick day in 40 years for the MOD. So yes I worry now. Whatever hits us in the future, I will still want honesty and truth from those looking after us, the only way I can make sense of anything, is by knowing the truth.

When I began blogging my bywords were ‘Tell it as it is’. I have done and that and will continue. I have nothing to hide and very soon, another part of my life will be made public. Something I am very proud of. Something again, family tried to ruin for me but did not succeed. Watch this space!

If you want to read fiction, lies or untruths, then please read no further. Scroll past. I write as I feel, not intellectually, but full of emotion, of memories, thoughts and feelings and yes, truth. I have always written this way, the only way I know how. I have said before, it is therapeutic to write things down, a way of making sense of the sometimes nonsensical. So here I am.

But before carrying on, I would like to thank everyone who has commented either on my blogs or my April 30th post, which was an explanation of the previous blog. I am so pleased none have been offended by the post it referred to. I began blogging a few years ago, a way of explaining things that were ‘mentioned’ in passing on social media by myself or others. It was also a way of letting family, living far from me,who had been either stopped from writing to me or estranged through lies and stories, about me and my life, my way of telling ‘it as it is’. I do talk of my children, my grandchildren because they are my family. Because they have made my memories. Because they are a huge part of my life, but now my past. I am still sharing old photos as they come up in ‘our memories’ part of FB and will continue to do so, even though I have been ‘told’ not to. My memories. My past. Our truths and our memories. My blog and my page. Nothing will change that.

It was my need for honesty and truth, my inability to lie for my daughter on an official adoption form, that instigated the break with her. In 2013,after travelling 5 hours in total, renting a room, to make a statement to a Social Worker, about our relationship, my daughter Lisa’s and mine, our closeness and my then becoming her pivotal support after her adopting a little girl. Something I was so looking forward to, Lisa blocked me. I had criticized her on the phone about something and  before I had signed the statement that then, because of her blocking me, became a huge lie. I couldn’t sign it because it was no longer true. She wouldn’t talk to me, email me or anything. I was blocked from her and my grandchildren’s lives. How does that make us close? How could I then sign something that was glowing in my opinion of her and talked of our love for each other, our mutual respect and support and regular contact? So signing something, that would leave me culpable and responsible for her future actions, I couldn’t sign. It made no difference to the adoption because I had made sure of that, but she has made it like it did.  So honesty has indeed cost me a great deal.

Having grown up in a dysfunctional family where my ‘mother’ was stranger to the truth, I made a promise that I would never lie. Having seen the damage done by being dishonest, by hiding the truth, by lying, I was determined this wouldn’t be how I would conduct my life. So please expect raw, open, frank writing. My perspective. My life. My Truth. If you are always honest you have no fear of being found out. You also don’t have to remember everything you say, because you were there, you experienced it. Your truth. I don’t talk of things I don’t know to be true, I don’t pass judgment and don’t believe, unless I have all of the facts.

I have heard of things said about me, by my daughter and sister, captions placed on pictures that are derogatory to me but have left it alone. Thought I was bigger than that and that I was all hurt out. How wrong was I. They have now lowered  to depths of stories that are dangerous and contain libel, criminal acts and involve others. I am writing on here because I have nothing to hide or prove but hope those involved will read this and back off. If the other people talked about, in the latest lies, find out, I am not responsible for anything they do.

After last weeks blog, at a time I really thought all the horrid stuff, that has bombarded me in emails etc. since 2013, had stopped, that they had hurt me all they could and had now run out of ways to do this. Wallop! It starts again. I said in last weeks blog that most of the ‘sad’ was over. How wrong was I! After writing last Sunday, I received an email from my eldest daughter, Lisa, that saw me hit rock bottom. Even when you know things to be untrue, fabricated to hurt you, stories and lies that are nasty beyond belief, they still have the power to knock you off your feet. In this case, what she wrote, stories she told me, lies retold to family, told her by someone who had no part in our life throughout the timeline these lies were about, has rendered me lower than I would have thought possible. Not because of the made up, vicious, untrue stories; but the fact that she has believed them, told others of them and dragged my name through the worst of mud imaginable. Has also ruined the reputation of others in the process of trying to ruin me. When will it end! Yes I talk of her on here, but only ever the truth. Because the blog is mainly about PC, it doesn’t mean the other nasties in my life are not present. PC is one of the blights in my life, one I am now coping with. Seeing David so well and happy, has helped me with this. But these ‘people’ did not stop when they knew he had cancer, they never let up and it appears, never will. So I write about my life, including family stuff on here, that is my only way of explaining myself or defending, against the lies that have been told over the last few years. Knowing that my daughter Lisa and my sister Trisha, have spent years undermining me and libeling me to anyone who will listen to them, making my family for a while, listen and believe the lies, now makes sense. Now, I had hoped, everyone knows the truth, has seen these two ‘women’ for what they are, no input from me. They did all of it to themselves, through their dishonesty and things had settled down. But dishonesty breeds dishonesty and the lies are getting more fantastical. Would make a great fiction novel, the farcical stories I have now found out, been told, would be laughable if they were not so cruel and damaging. I made it impossible for her to read my blog but she obviously does, to be able to write and tell me of the content. I didn’t do this because I have anything to hide, because I know everything I write is how it is. The truth. I did it to be able to vent and write out my anger, my sadness and my fears on here without nasty comments from her. I never realised that she could make up names, in this instance one of her dogs names, go onto Social media and read my blog and posts anyway.

Those trying to hurt me still, are incredibly stupid but also evil. A few years ago, being the victim of a horrible internet hoax around CSA, I had a saying. ‘when evil and stupidity meet, ‘yer gonna get caught’. Caught they were. In this instance, current family stuff, last weeks email, the lies are so incredible that anyone with a brain, with the ability to follow a timeline, would see how ludicrous these stories are. So why am I upset? Because firstly my daughter believed them. Secondly she spread them around. Lies or not, once spoken mud sticks. This is the latest of the nasty acts of bullying and cruelty thrown at me so why shouldn’t I speak of them on here, even though she has ‘told me’ not to? I have nothing to hide. If those involved want me to speak well of them, perhaps they should behave better, now and in the past. If I hear anymore of these lies from anyone, I will expose those who are continuing to inflict hurt on me and my family and take action. Will have no choice. I can, as always, only speak for me, but I can imagine the hurt , confusion and pain caused to the other people mentioned in these lies, how it feels to have your memories stolen from you with lies and dishonesty. How your whole life now seems to have huge doubts in it. How you can even wonder who you really are. Lies about parentage, can cause distress and leave legacies forever. Oh how I know this to be true! My daughter has been told lies that have made her doubt her parentage, I really can’t believe this, as the person telling her, was nowhere in her life for almost 40 years. Trisha has stolen Lisa’s heritage and birthright with lies. Lisa has stolen my grandchildren’s heritage, their birthright by retelling these horrendous lies and now they must doubt their own life line. All of it made up to be not as it really is. Unforgivable. But the one things they cannot steal are our  memories, things we shared, times we loved. The truth.

As the saying above says about truth , ‘it always floats to the top’. The oil will eventually dry up and I hope then, questions will be asked and answered with the truth.

In the first part of this blog, we thought we knew the truth about PC. Things we had previously read, the facts, but evidently we didn’t. Having half or none of the information, the decisions we may have made, could have been catastrophic.

The second part of today’s blog, was my looking for the truth, about PC. I had a need to know the facts, find them out, discover the truth of how it was, this disease. I was concerned as to what I had read and been told so decided to research PC, look at statistics and outcomes. With this awful threat to my beloved husband’s life, the fear of the unknown, then having all of the truth in detail, we were able to make an informed correct decision.

In the third part of the blog, lies have been told that I have only just discovered. I had heard a while ago of the outlandish stories spread by my sister to my daughter and then to the whole family. Lies that were cruel and nasty but these latest stories are way out there. So much worse and so much more damaging. Opinions were formed on these lies because no one knew the facts. I was not around to tell them how it actually was, I was the only one who really knew what happened in my life as I was the only one there, the only one living it. I knew the truth, others didn’t. The same is true of the latest lies. Forming opinions without the facts, is very harmful to others, dangerous and hurtful to anyone else affected by the lies. In all three of the parts of my blog, no matter how hard you work to depress it, the oil will always float to the top. The truth will out.

Thankyou for reading and watch this space x

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The one thing in life that won’t change, is that change will always happen! With out it we would stagnate, get bored or become complacent. So does that mean that all change is good? No of course it doesn’t. But it is not all bad either is it. The other thing that is amazing me more than ever before, is how fast life can change. Sometimes in a heart beat. We go about our everyday life and then suddenly something happens to throw us off our stride. That something, whether it is big or small, alters our path and we go off in another direction. Sometimes good, sometimes bad. That’s change.

Only a few years ago, I thought I had time, plenty of time to do all the things I wanted to do, everything on my bucket list. Now I know I don’t. David having Prostate cancer made me realise that none of us know how long we have. None of us know how life, or death, will interrupt our plans and dreams and all of a sudden head us off in another direction. That’s a change of a kind we hadn’t planned .Nothing like a cancer diagnosis to focus your mind.

A lovely thing happened this week . I have mentioned meeting my niece for the first time, a grown up niece, who life had prevented me from knowing until now. In a conversation, she said that meeting me, had been on her bucket list. I felt so humbled, what a beautiful thing to say. It had been in reference to something I had put on Facebook, re the Lavender fields of France being on mine. Being able to hug this lovely lady, share moments of our lives we didn’t know about,was so good and much overdue.

My beloved husband having what could have been a brush with death, has made it more important to do the things on our lists, sooner than later. Losing my big bear, my brother Tony, has also brought a change in me , in my hopes and aspirations for the near future. The day he died, the world became a different world for me, it had changed and was not the same anymore. I felt a bit lost. There was suddenly a change, brought about by the realisation that we are all mortal and that death has no time frame. Tomorrow might not come for some of us and so I have had to change so much. I have stopped putting off the things I want to do and the things I need to do. I have managed to bring most of my family, back into the fold, so to speak and now must concentrate on my grandchildren. This will be hard because their mother has poisoned their minds with her sick lies but I know at least ,my eldest grandson knows the truth and I will build on that. This change, not allowing my daughter to stand in my way, is huge for me. I won’t give up on it as I have emails from him, telling me how he wanted to stay in touch but his Mother didn’t like him having contact. He has never said he doesn’t want to talk to me or his Gramps, never asked me to stop contact, Lisa has intervened on many occasions, deleting emails and messages on social media, so he hasn’t known how hard I have tried to stay in touch. She eventually had her way. I know it will be hard for him but I won’t give up, ever. One-day this change will happen and I can’t wait, neither can David. A good change.

Life here on the farm has seen many changes of late, most of them positive. As I have said before, Marie, Jason and her animals are back here living. Today we have made our future plans and begun to put them  into action. Exciting for all of us. A safer future than we had envisaged and because of how life is moving so fast, we are happy to be able to make them feel secure about a forever home and content in the knowledge, that although separated, we will all be close to each other if needed. This meant huge changes but well worth the effort.

During the past few years, my life has seen many changes, some positive but more, not so. David having cancer with a little ‘c’ was the scariest time of my adult life. He wasn’t scared, he was sad, in case he couldn’t survive it, but sad for me not for himself. He is so pragmatic, ‘what will be will be’. A phrase he uses too often and one I found difficult to hear at times. Life became different for us all during that time, the waiting, the tests, the results, the surgery and the changes within him and myself. In his positive nature, his ‘we are where we are’, he seemed okay. Me? I was far from okay and have documented how terrified I was in past blogs. The huge changes I went through and not for the good, were scary. I still have times where I panic, where I ‘what if’ and possibly will always have now. David has changed since his diagnosis, treatment and recovery. He has become more emotional, softer, more patient and more grateful for everything life offers him. But he has also become much more aware of his mortality as we both have. This has made us make changes in our future plans, in our wills etc. Putting things in place he calls it. Just in case.   (One of my lines.) So yes, there have been huge changes for us as a couple. Then there are the physical changes that PC treatment has left us with but I have covered this in a previous blog, a Different Kind of Love. None insurmountable, all with a kind of positive side.

One thing I am very aware of, through posts on our groups, is the sometimes awful changes for men on hormone treatment. I won’t insult anyone by saying I know how they feel because I obviously don’t. I also don’t know how hard that is for the wives of these men. To have your loving husband change into someone you at times, don’t recognize must be heartbreaking and my thoughts are with you all. I do know however, quite a lot about hormonal change, having worked with it during training and with clients and so know how fraught life can become, for both the sufferer and their families. But take hope from the fact, that most of these changes, will revert to the norm once treatment stops. Change back. Then that will be a good change.

The biggest instigator of change is of course death. As I have written in my blog ‘What Tony Meant To me’, the changes then, are involuntary . They happen because the loved one is no longer here. In the beginning, the mind plays tricks with us and we think it is not true. We may awake each morning, for a quite a longtime, at first thinking life is the same. All is well. Then it hits us like a sledgehammer, it is not the same. All is far from well. Someone we love has gone, left us, disappeared, gone away, passed. Died. Then it hits us for real. Life is never the same, it is hugely different. We can’t, in that instance, ‘change back’. It has changed forever. That is where grieving comes in. To do this, at our own pace, is so important and vital to our recovery. Changes brought on by death are some of the hardest because they are never instigated by us. Grieving is part of the healing process, that the only constant and inevitable event in life; death; can bring about lifelong change. It can help in recovering, to allow you to continue and although different, life can become good again.

Throughout our lives, change is inevitable. As the photo above says, you can’t stop it, you can try but yes, it will happen and just drive all over you metaphorically speaking. Life itself is change. We grow from babies to children, to young people and hopefully, to adults. Changing all the time, throughout, sometimes not realizing, so not acknowledging the changes. I grew up in a dysfunctional family and left aged 19 and a bit. Married at 21 and had my first daughter, Lisa Jayne. The changes during the next few years were amazing to watch. Most of that wonderful time we were ecstatically happy, most of it just the 2 of us. Eventually marrying again I had my 2nd daughter Marie Leanne. I had lost 2 sons, I have talked about this before and so these little girls became my world. But life changes, they grew up and Lisa left home. Marie didn’t, apart from going to University, she remained at home, living independently but on our property. Another change. Marie, David and I are very close and now we have Jason, our son-in-law. Lisa changed so much over the past few years after being so close to me,I don’t recognise her, I have spoken at length of her and her ways of hurting me so won’t go there today. But she has changed more than any member of my family and not in a good way. So children grow up, life changes and so it should. For that I am glad. My daughters are both very capable of living their own lives and so I must have done something right.

In my professional role, I have to believe in the positive aspects of life. I have to believe that everyone is capable of change. CBT Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, of which I am a Psychotherapist, having gained a Masters in Counselling of this model, is all about change. I work with a diverse section of clients, who come into therapy to change something that is making them or part of their life dysfunctional. Usually they are thinking in a negative manner and CBT helps them change this to positive thinking. Once the thought pattern is established as positive, the emotions that come with it change, that then, affects, the way they behave. Life then improves. It sounds simple but can be very complex and can sometimes take a very long time. If negative thinking has become their ‘norm’, changing that pattern can meet resistance on their part. But it does work. Change does happen and in this context, change is good.Helping someone to live a better , happier more fulfilling life is so rewarding.

Over the years, life has been hard at times, especially in my childhood. One of my lifetime aims, is to make children’s lives safer. To help create a world where children always have someone to turn to in times of fear or sadness. I have, in the past, been part of Counselling in Schools initiative which is up and running in some parts of the UK.I am also working to ensure that all children looked after in care, are safer and that not only are the physical and practical needs met but the emotional ones are too. Children taken from their families, sometimes unnecessarily, need extra understanding and love, not just someone to feed and give them a home but someone they can turn to in crisis. If they have been abused, then the carer they are entrusted to, needs to have the understanding and patience, to be able to fulfill the role of a good mum and help them through behaviour, that might be seen as ‘wrong’ to those witnessing it. All adults, parents, carers need to have the capacity to give a child time, listen to their fears, believe them if they say they are scared of someone and then act. We read all the time of CSA and its effects, I would like to be part of a generation that helps protect our kids and makes it almost impossible for them to be hurt in this way, without the child being able to talk to someone, be okay with ‘telling’. A change I feel desperately needs to happen.It is obviously too late for me but this is a change I would like to see implemented in care of all kinds and with any child in fear, whether living at home or in care. Working with other professionals, it is a change that is long overdue.

Since losing my brother and David having cancer, I have changed so much. Yes I still have sad days, down days but meeting with my niece who does not have good health, but who gets on with her life with courage and fortitude and yes, fun, something missing from ‘here on the farm’ for far too long,I realised that most of my ‘sad’ now belongs in the past. Most of my fear is the same as anyone else who has suffered loss or been through the trauma of a loved ones illness. I am no different but I am the only one who can change things.

I need to concentrate on our future, my future and that of my family. So when ‘it’, change of any kind, again creeps close, instead of fearing it, avoiding it, blaming it, I will embrace it. Embrace the change and see it as an opportunity not to be missed.

Watch this space!

Thankyou for reading x

This past week has seen me looking back, not just on my life in general but how the most valued of gifts we have to share or to give, is Time. For me I realised that much of mine, these past few years in particular, has been tainted, stolen and lost. Every-one of us, has had it stolen from our lives in one way or another and I think, for me at least, it is my own time to put this right. Using my memories from inside my mind.

Since 2016, our life ‘here on the farm’ has been cancer ridden. Cancer driven if you like. David had his first Prostate cancer test and the world was turned upside down. Many months were lost to worry, fear and the ‘what ifs’. 2017 saw the diagnosis finally showing that the threat of cancer, my fear of this nasty disease, had come to fruition. My darling husband had PC and there was nothing I could do about it. I thought my life had stopped. My world turned on its head. I wanted to un-know the words the consultant had uttered. I wanted to go back in time to my ‘happy’, to our magical life but I couldn’t. I wasted so much time, worrying, fearing the worst, terrified that I would lose him. Lose the man who loved me, cared for me and was my rock. I was once told that time is one of our most precious gifts. Many of us squander it, thinking we have so much more left. Sometimes we don’t, have time I mean. It’s like a bank account where we don’t know the balance but unlike bank accounts, although we can take out of it, we can never invest into it. Then, one-day, we realise that the balance is nil. Too late.

How much of this precious commodity is lost, wasted, worrying and waiting. Every PC sufferer and partner knows the pain of waiting. For me it was one of the worst parts of the whole journey, waiting. Worrying and the ‘what ’ifs’ came thick and fast. All of my time, during this horrid year that I shared on here, for everyone to see, I now see as time taken from me in the guise of a disease that is both cruel and anxiety driven.

I read on here, of PC sufferers working through their bucket lists and hope they all achieve their goals. I read of Mark Bradford, a man with incurable PC and who is dying in full view of his friends on here. How courageous is he. An inspiration to us all. I admire and love this man although I have never met him. His faith has pulled him through the best and worst of times and he has taken us with him throughout his own personal journey and I for one, am proud to share a little of this part of his life. The one thing Mark does not take for granted or waste, is time. He is ‘dying’ so very well with huge spirit, courage, dignity and faith. He has spent the time he has, doing all the things he wanted to do, making memories for those left behind, his wife Sharon and his friends. Memories that will linger for years and I am sure at times, we will all be able to smile and be glad that he had given us these. Wasting time is not on Mark’s agenda. He values life, his strong faith helps him and he is grateful for that and so am I.

I had lost all of my faith over the years. Once a church choir girl for more than 16 years, a woman who brought her children up as Christians, I lost my belief but now, watching and sharing Mark’s last months or years, I have regained some faith and with the cross pendant he made and sent me, under my pillow, I pray each night as I did as a child. Thankyou my friend. Love you Mark.

During these past few years, as well as PC, the worry that had hit our lives like a thunderbolt, I had spent too much time invested in my eldest daughter Lisa, at first trying to put things right, then trying to stop her vendetta against me but to no avail. Time I should have spent caring for my husband. Spending quality time with him, instead of wasting it on someone who hasn’t deserved anything from me these past years. Just because ‘she is my daughter’. Losing her, at her instigation, she made it impossible for me to be Nan to my grandchildren, whose lives I had been part of for more than 20 years. She also alienated me from Tony’s family with lies and stories. Lost time I will never retrieve, time during which I could have made new memories with them but haven’t had the chance. No one has the right to deny me memories that could have been or deny them to anyone else, in this case my grandsons Harrison and Jordan and granddaughter Hannah. But those years are lost forever, again because of someone’s selfishness. Sometimes, just because they are ‘family’, we allow people to do this to us. Would we have allowed anyone else to deny us, steal our time from those we love? Would I have wasted it on anyone else? Would I have taken the lies, the deceit, the pain and the worry, if anyone outside of my family had shown such betrayal and hurt? No of course I wouldn’t. So much of those few years, full of hurt, lies, betrayal and destruction of everything I loved, had been spent fighting against her and her aunt. Wasted, lost time. Stolen time.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret having her, bringing her up of course I don’t. The early years, when she was my Blessing, we were incredibly happy the two of us, I have never and will never forget those years. Being a first time mum to this beautiful little girl was the biggest and best thing that had ever happened to me. I loved her and tried to teach her right from wrong and thought I had succeeded. We had so much fun and those are memories I store within my heart, deep in the regions of my mind. No one can steal those from me. If she had not been brought up in love and honesty, kindness and empathy and shown how to keep house, treat others etc. I would not have done my job properly as a Mum. So none of that time was wasted, I loved every minute. But not the last few years, they have been wasted, time lost once again. I can’t afford to spend any more time trying to get her back into my family. She knows where I am.

This past year, the betrayal took a different turn, against my beloved brother as I had told in my blogs, more time spent trying to get her to make things right with him, but she didn’t. This was possibly the greatest loss in my opinion, the biggest amount of precious time stolen from all of us, Tony’s last year. He was dying and because of the cruelty of my daughter and his sister, his last year was fraught, with hurt and a sense of disloyalty and betrayal. For that, as I have told on here, I felt so much guilt, because all of this, was at the hands of my own daughter. As mums, I think we always feel guilty if our children do wrong don’t we? So 2017 was another lost year and one Tony did not deserve. Time stolen from him, from his family and from me. His death broke my heart and ended a year I would like to forget. But time none of us will have with him again.

The reason this past week has had me thinking about time, is this. Around 20 years ago, I met up with someone I had earlier in my life, discovered was my half-brother. Without going into details on here, I had been told, when I was seventeen and ‘courting’ this young man, to keep away from him and his 3 brothers, because they wanted nothing to do with me. That was the time when this discovery was made. We were obviously devastated and shocked and did not see each other for many years at the insistence of my mother. 20 years ago, his Mum, my Godmother, died and I wanted to go to her funeral and say my goodbye as she had been very good to me as a little girl. I tried to quietly and discreetly walk back to my car after the service, without being seen, but I was noticed by someone who knew me but didn’t know I was related to this lovely ladies’ sons. That began a time in my life that I treasure. I was reunited with my half -brother, his brothers and found I actually had been wanted. That on family occasions, the boys had talked of me, wondered what had become of me and wished I had been part of their lives, their sister. They, or rather the man I am talking about, welcomed me back into a family I had never known. All through the years I thought I was hated, I was actually wanted and loved by this family I had no contact with. It’s a long story and won’t bore you with the details. But wanted I was and had always been. I knew nothing of the brother’s lives, their wives, their children. I had lost all the growing up years of my niece and nephews lives. Lost all that time when I could have been a sister and an aunt. Stolen from me by someone who wanted us to be estranged to satisfy their own selfish wants. Years I will never be able to get back.

BUT.

On Wednesday of this past week, after talking to my grown up niece for more than 9 years on Social Media, since my autobiography was published, I met her for real. It was amazing. I was extremely nervous, changing my mind over and over on what I should wear. Worrying that I would be a disappointment. Scared she wouldn’t like me. I found she had had the same fears. We had wasted time worrying, because when we finally met, it was as though we had known each other all of our lives. An amazing incredible day and I am so grateful to have increased my family once again. So yes, I wish I had known her since she was born but I didn’t and I will not waste any-more time on regretting that but use it wisely to appreciate that she is now in my life.

What I have learned this past week is that maybe I have lost huge parts of my life, my time. Childhood stolen from me by an abuser. Years from the age of 17,time where I could have been within a family who loved me. Time with my daughter and grandchildren, all stolen from me. So maybe I have lost a great deal of time, wasted a great deal of time but no more. From today, with a new niece in my life, my family on my brother Tony’s side, back in my life, I intend to make memories in whatever time I have left.

This young woman, my niece and my FB friend Mark, live their lives to the full. Like Mark, my niece does not enjoy good health and has many physical issues that could stop her living her life to the full. But does it? Never! She has been abseiling, zip wiring etc. things I would never have the courage to do. I have known people throughout my life who despite their problems, never allowed that to stop them. People who appreciated that time is precious, limited and should be used wisely. My late brother and late best friend Mo, lived for the moment as long as they could and I intend to do the same. So, like many, I have lost, had stolen or wasted, much of my life and now realise, my time now is precious. That my bank account, although diminished, is still in the black and I need to spend it wisely. I have wonderful people around me and my home is full of love. Those wanting to share my life are very welcome, I can’t spend time worrying about those who choose not to. Don’t have the luxury of limitless time.

Thank you for reading. x

 

I have had reason this week, to give a regular visitor to our lives, an enemy, a great deal of presence in my mind. It is a thief of time, a vandal that I have written about many times on here before. In a way, it is the reason I blog. It steals our time, our happy, our peace of mind. Yes cancer, with a little ‘c’ or a big one, it is always the enemy. It barges unannounced, uninvited into our lives and the lives of those we love. Tramples over our plans, our loves, our hopes and our dreams and sometimes, for some, our futures. It is all-consuming when it is present, over whelming , terrifying and draining. Everything we do, everything we think about, is tainted by the thoughts it brings. By  the anticipated grief it could leave us with. The very word conjours up fear of the worst kind and takes over every ounce of our being, every second of our lives.

And then its gone. Stopped. Leaving a huge gaping void. Sometimes filled with pain, and fear of a different kind. Emptiness like we have never known. If it has stolen someone from our life, the grief can be horrendous. If we have beaten it, the gap is still there, as big but different in an obvious way. Whichever way it goes, it leaves the question. Where now? What do we do now? It sometimes leaves spaces that are impossible to fill. Sometimes leaving us confused and alone. But for some, me included, the absence of this nasty beast, should be joyous but for some reason this is not always the case. The disease that is cancer, has taken up most of our life’s daily thought process. Taken up most of our routine. Oh how much it steals from us. Leaving us in a place we don’t always recognize.All the time spent worrying, being afraid was now empty. A good empty you would think, but I for one, am not always sure what to do with this new ’empty’. Feels strange. It leave me with the ‘what now’s’?

A few years ago, my eldest daughter Lisa, aged around 17, had been heartbroken by her then boyfriend, after they had split up, and she was crying, she said she missed him so very much. My youngest daughter,Marie, knowing that this relationship had not been very good, said matter of factly, ‘ yes but you miss toothache’ Oh how wise was she!

One of the worst legacies of cancer, for me at least, is the mind’s ability to make mountains out of mole hills. After David had PC and although now, he is cancer free, I find myself very aware, of how my mind quickly jumps to the wrong conclusion. How it makes mountains out of mole hills. Every ache or pain I know David is feeling, makes my heart beat faster and I find myself back to the ‘what ‘ifs’. He had a skin cancer years ago and had it removed. Last year he had another one removed, on his face. It didn’t heal and came back, this time he had to have removal surgery followed by plastic surgery, January of this year. Whilst waiting for the results, the  pathology, my mind had gone into overdrive. Is it back this time and won’t be curable? Will he keep getting them? Will it be malignant?  Will it have spread? Friday last, we had to go back to see the oncologist and I was secretly very scared. Life had dealt us many blows these past few years, we had survived PC and surgery but I was very scared pre this last appointment. Perhaps cancer makes you always expect the worst. My ‘norm’ that was worry, was having a field day. But thankfully there had been no need for any of the worry, he had clear margins and the cancer had gone. ‘Clear margins’ music to my ears.I could have kissed the young consultant but restrained myself.

As I said, life had not been kind to us these past 6 years, and I had become a pessimist of the highest order. Over these past few years I have lost a best friend, a close friend had lost her husband far too young, I had lost a sister and a brother, all  to the evil that is cancer. We have also lost a brother and a sister on David’s side to tumours, cancerous. My little dog Ellie Mae has mammary cancer and has had surgery but nothing else can be done. Just a matter of time. I suppose that is why I think the worst all the time, but I am not alone in these feelings and fears. Many on here are the same. They write and tell us and we share their pain, comfort them if we can, encourage them and support them. I also know that many who lose those they have loved and some, who like me are fortunate enough to have our men as survivors, still feel this strange void where the worry once was. For the duration of the beast being in our lives, we are carried along on the waves, waxing and waning between fear, anxiety, pain and despair and if we are very lucky, ultimately relief.

A positive legacy of being post PC, is, that for me at least, I am more aware of other people’s struggles with this disease.I read about it and try hard to make positive comments. If I can’t, I say nothing. But I always read everything on all of my groups, with more diligence than before David had the all clear, but still read it all. In the time after diagnosis and sometimes now, it’s as though my ears hear the word and I hone in on the conversation. My eyes see the word in print and I have to read the story or the information. After Diagnosis, my mind was  like a magnet, pulling anything and everything cancer related towards it. I woke up with it, lived in it all day, dreamt about it when I was fortunate enough to sleep. It was, as I said, all-consuming. Every minute of every day, cancer was in the forefront of my mind. These past few weeks, it was back. Friday I hope was its last appearance, time to shut the gate so to speak. Cancer free was how it was now. How it has to be.

I say David HAD cancer, not that he has it. I hope with every ounce of my being that I am not tempting fate. I hope we have been among the lucky ones where cancer has gone. That we fought the nasty fight and lived to tell the tale. I am trying to relax in this knowledge, enjoy life as I had been before it all went so terribly wrong. Trying but with little success. Life should be good now , shouldn’t it.

But there’s the rub. What now? Can we afford to be complacent? I used to look for the worry button, to be able to switch it off. Now it’s off and I keep hearing myself say ‘what now?’ I feel slightly empty, I know that sounds odd and possibly a bit ungrateful but worry had become my second nature. Life had been cruel these past years and I suppose worry became the norm. So I keep thinking, now what?

In 2010 we moved to beautiful West Wales. David and I were wonderfully happy, with Marie our daughter, having come with us, our horses and ponies cats and dogs, life was good. But life has a habit of slapping you in the face when we least expect it and slapping it did, in force. I have talked about this in earlier blogs but will briefly re iterate. The first 2 years here ‘on the farm’ were amazing except that sadly they brought the death of the lady I called ‘Mum’. This was a great loss in my life and that of her family.I thought that her death would be the only blight of my new exciting life here in Wales.The only thing missing were family, mostly my eldest daughter Lisa.She was still living in Hampshire with her 2 sons, Harry and Jordan, my grandsons and was about to adopt a foster baby she had had since the little girl’s birth. I was to have another grandchild and that was a lovely thought. The same year,2012, I watched my best friend fight for her life against this evil that is cancer, she lost and I lost the nicest, funniest, warmest person I felt privileged to call my friend. In 2014 my eldest sister Georgina, succumbed to the same evil disease. Watching how the nasties this illness can throw at you, stole her from her family and me, was awful. 2013 brought heartache like I had never known, Lisa shut me out of her life and I lost my grandsons and granddaughter but mostly lost my firstborn child. Marie who has Graves disease became very ill and had to have radical treatment for her thyroid problem. My brother Tony was ill with lung cancer and it was not curable. I had health issues that are now ongoing and a great friend of mine since teenage years, was also, fighting this horrible disease.  2015 saw the death of my husband ‘s youngest brother to a brain tumour. 2016 brought online bullying from my eldest daughter and youngest sister that rendered me very unwell and unable to work. Between them they tried hard to ruin my reputation and my professional working life. Although a blip, they did not succeed. Late that year Davids eldest sister died from cancer. 2017 found us in the heights of fear with David being diagnosed with PC. Tony being told his cancer was terminal and that he had about a year. My son had Gullian Barr disease and Crohns and was paralysed for many months. He has since recovered. 2018, Sadly Tony lost his fight and broke our hearts. Still not used to him not being in my life anymore. Our little dog also had cancer surgery and is now on borrowed time. David had surgery for PC and recently skin cancer and is now cancer free, in both cases. But the worry these times brought are hard to lose.

So now should be a time of relief. A happy time. But that is how it was when we first came here, almost 9 years ago. I am scared of becoming complacent, smug. Life was good in the ‘before.’ Before the family deaths, the loss of friends. Before the painful time at the hands of my daughter and sister. In the days, before the  cancer fog of fear and pain, before our once peaceful wonderful life, became full of worry. Should I remain alert? Should I stay in the fear place that had become my norm?

I don’t think so!

 Yes, life has slapped us in the face over and over these past 6 years but we are hoping that It has now run out of ‘slap’!

What all of this has shown me is, that illness, cancer, steals so much of our time that we need to appreciate every minute.We need to appreciate what we have, love those around us and show them and tell them we love them. We need not to let anything steal time from us and not waste it on things that are unimportant. I feel life has dealt us some nasty blows but from today I plan to enjoy every minute.Spend my time making David happy and feeling loved. One-day perhaps, life will be complete for me, my eldest daughter and grandsons may return to my life. It is not about forgetting what has happened, it is not about forgiving. It is about unconditional love of a mum for her child.I will try once more to make this happen. Hoping but not hopeful.

Perhaps this is a second chance, if so I am grateful for that second chance. A chance to use my time more wisely. To spend the rest of my life, however long or short, being the person I have always tried to be. Good, kind, funny,loving and most of all honest. I will use it to shower love on those who love me and whom I love and share it with those I want to share it with, whether wanted or not in some cases. I will do my professional job to the best of my ability and try to live an honest life. Whatever happens in my day-to-day life, I will continue to be grateful, and always try to leave people smiling.

I will try not to think of the ‘what ifs,’ the ‘what next’s’ and just Be. Nothing is more precious in life than time, I don’t intend to waste anymore of mine. Spend yours wisely.

Thankyou for reading xx

This week brought the news that PC had been recognized as a major cancer and will have 75 million pounds invested in it. Wonderful news of course. Not before time we could say.We are all grateful and hope this will mean a serious reduction in male deaths in the future. The money is going to research for a blood test that can detect this horrid disease faster and easier. For new MRI systems to be created and safer and more precise surgical treatments. It will also be used to make GP’s more aware and pro active, getting men to have these tests earlier and then straight into their chosen treatment. All good and all welcome.But. I have said before, that the fear of the outcomes of treatments, the side effects of treatment , in my opinion, stops many men coming forward for these tests. It isn’t the fear of surgery, the fear of radiation or even death. It is the fear of what happens after treatment. All of the money invested is going to research the physical side of PC. But what about the psychological effects of diagnosis, of prognosis and treatments? What about men’s fear of the side effects, that I hope will be less with newer treatments but maybe still present? I know that some men do nothing because they fear what might happen. That they will be ‘less of a man’ after treatment. We need to address these very real fears and make men feel safer and understood.

My heart aches, every time I read of a man, dreading the thought of being unable to have sex because of ED. Being incontinent because of the lack of nerve sparing. More so when these men are very young, want to have a family and a full physical life in the future. What is there out there for them? What kind of support for them? Yes we have the groups online and they are wonderful but maybe we need to offer them more.

All the money, all the research. All the investment is not going to remove the ‘F’ word. The fear of the side effects, from the minds of the sufferer or their loved ones. I had to tell a young man, a relative, that David had PC and asked him to get tested. He won’t. He is too afraid of having treatment and being unable to fulfil a full sexual life with his partner. He will ‘take his chance.’ If he had the test and he was found to have the disease, he might live a longer life but he would rather have his life without knowing and take the chance. I actually understand this. In the beginning, I didn’t want my husband to have a 2nd test, thought it would be better not to know and to ‘take a chance’ but thinking it through, we decided against that. It would always be there, that thought, that ‘what if’.

We need all the positive stories on here. We need all the survivors to tell others that they are living full lives. We need that kind of publicity. Lets be honest here, like in childbirth where a woman loses all her inhibitions all her dignity, the man with PC loses his dignity during the treatment, the catheter, the temporary incontinence but they are still here! Still living. The surprise to me was, that even though David is a pragmatic man, he is very private but we were able to laugh at things we would never have laughed at before PC. We still do. Humour can be a very good friend at times like that. Being ‘out on your own’ as some men on here  seem to be, is not good. Some women have husbands and partners who won’t discuss what is happening. Turn away. Some even put their heads in the proverbial sand. But it won’t go away! This can leave the man or the partner isolated and alone in their fear. The support on here is amazing but maybe in a different supportive environment, maybe group support, would allow those affected by the fear, to see that others feel the same. That they are not alone. That the ‘fear’ is actually quite normal. It could be a place to vent and cry, to express their feelings with like-minded people. Fear can be crippling, I know, I have been there many times and would have loved somewhere to physically take myself ,to explore the reality of these fears. Or just to be emotionally held.

My reason for the above is this. Maybe some of the money invested could be used on training therapists to work with men or couples, who are facing this horrid disease, this cancer with a little ‘c’. It is different from other illnesses as I write in one of my blogs, I call it  the couple’s cancer as it affects both ‘victim’ and partner in equal measures but in different ways. Therapists or health professionals, can teach patients that there is life after PC. Different maybe, but life all the same. If men are diagnosed early in the disease, part of what the research intends, if the treatment is offered soon after diagnosis, allowing of course, for the man to have time to come to terms with what is happening, if that could happen  but then no waiting around, things might be a bit easier. The waiting is excruciating for some, me included.These trained health professionals could assure those affected, that they will survive, maybe not as they were but with a good quality of life all the same. As is often said, more men die with PC than die from it. But that is no reason not to treat it is it? Late diagnosis or refusal to have treatment, brings the worst outcome. Maybe not immediately but maybe sooner than anyone would want. I have read on my groups, men saying they would rather live a short full life as a ‘complete man’ than a longer one without normal sex. Well my husband had surgery, life is different, sex is different and I can assure you guys, there is nothing ‘incomplete’ with him. He is healthy, not incontinent, sexy and alive. Believe me.

Having said all of that, we need to be able to abolish men’s fear. Therapy can help cope with the fears, the anxiety that happens in cases of cancer. I work with anxiety, depression etc. and I know therapy helps people.We need to banish the ‘what ifs’ for those of you who read regularly, you will know how hard that has been for me. So I know what I am talking about. We need to concentrate on today, now. Acknowledge the fear of the side effects. Yes research will perfect treatments and so these will become fewer. But we should not make light of how frightening PC can be , in the early terrifying stage, of hearing the word cancer. Along the journey that is so full of ‘waiting’, that only feeds these fears. Whether it is a man affected or his partner or wife, acknowledge the ‘realness’ of it and understand, be compassionate. This is not ‘man flu’, this is Prostate cancer and it is scary. But if we had support, real places we could turn, people we could go and see and have health professionals guide us through and support us, life would be a little easier I am sure. This is where I think funding is necessary. Of course we need the research, the new techniques, the new blood tests but lets not forget our emotional and psychological needs in all of this.

Although the word ‘journey’ has become synonymous with the celebrity world, for me this has been a journey and I suppose, because of the  changes in our life, that journey is ongoing. In two blogs I have written: ‘Take Care of Him. Take Care of Them etc’ and ‘A Different Kind of Love’, I have mentioned some of what I have written today, so sorry of I have repeated myself but I feel strongly that the psychological effects on both patient and ‘carer’, is often made light of. Our journey will continue. But we are still here. We chose surgery, although of course it was Davids choice, in the beginning I just wanted to  unknow what we knew, unhear what had been told to us and move on. But of course we couldn’t. We discussed it at length, David with his strength, me holding onto my fear and trusting him. We made the decision to have the cancer removed and I believe by doing that, we chose to live. From that day, we have struggled, fought and cried together. Me? I screamed and shouted, mostly on here, but here we are. Alive and still writing. Still living and still loving. Everyday is a bonus. More spontaneous kisses and hugs. More glancing at each other with a little smile. More finding new strength in how far we have come. We love hard, We laugh a lot and share more. Living our life in our own way, to the limits.

How long will we last? Don’t know. None of us know that but I believe that choosing our path, surgery,cancer has been beaten and David will be here with me longer than if we had done nothing. Just my belief. Fearing the consequences of the huge decision, makes the wolf bigger than he is. So we got rid of him, he was an uninvited ‘guest’ and so he had to go. The side effects fade into insignificance when you think of the alternative. Death. Life without my rock would be no life.

So if you are reading this and don’t know what decision to make. Please choose Life. Life is precious. Yes maybe after treatment it will be different but it will be a life. It can still be good. Coming so close to death focused our minds and brought us to a new deeper love, all-consuming, wonderful. How could I ask for more. I want to continue to read stories of men, of couple’s who have had treatment and now enjoy a new different kind of life. Happy stories to encourage other men to travel this journey. But if they could do it with help, provided through this investment into PC by the way of therapists, or therapeutic groups, it would make life so much easier. My heart goes out to all of those who did not win this battle for whatever reason, I send my love. We cannot help those gone but we can try to help those following us on this road none of us asked to take. Good travelling companions help each other. That is what I am trying to do with my blog.

Thankyou for reading x

 

This past week I have been writing an article on change. The basics of my professional model of Psychotherapy CBT and it has made me aware of how I have changed permanently and temporarily. Especially over the past few years. I used to doubt that people can fundamentally change but during my training I learned that this is a vital part of clients moving forward during treatment. At least, changing how they view things in their lives, how their thought process affects their emotions and thus their behavior. Sometimes people can get a kind of ‘payback’ for staying where they are in their life, they become reluctant to work with me to bring about these changes. Happy with where they find themselves but they also know that areas of their lives, are dysfunctional, that is where therapy comes in. But only of the client sees more positives in bringing about change and the payback they get doesn’t stop them. Changing your thought patterns will bring about change of behaviour, usually for the better. During therapy we explore how clients are thinking, it is usually in a negative manner, that is what brought them in to me in most cases, thus bringing negative emotions, sadness, anger, disinterest and/or unsociable behavior. The negative thinking leaves them sad, angry, hurt or brings low self-esteem. Their emotions then influence the clients behavior. Once we have changed the thought , the emotion changes and ultimately so does the behavior. Most of the time, the negative thought patterns, happen in total unawareness of the client. What I mean is, they do not realise that anything has changed, are sometimes so low that it has become their norm to think negatively, thus feeling low and behaving in a way that adversely affects their lives, in a way that becomes dysfunctional. Thinking in a positive manner will bring about positive change. I know from my work this is always for the better. So I believe that we can change how we live and become much more positive. Positive thoughts, bring good emotions and therefore positive behavior.

Until a few years ago, I was a, strong woman, a Health Professional, a wife and mother and carer for many animals. I did public speaking a few years ago, went through college for a 2nd time in my 50’s and University for the first time gaining a Master of Arts. Capable,strong and self-assured. I wrote my autobiography based on a life of CSA and continued writing as a second career alongside my Private Practice.

How then did I become the weak, vulnerable , terrified person I have been these past few years? How did I become someone who shed tears, something not done for more years than was healthy? Sensitive beyond understanding and scared of my own shadow. Where did Carol Ann disappear to during that time and where does she go, now and again, even today? I don’t have answers to these questions but have a theory.

CBT Cognitive Behavioural Psychotherapy, is the only proven and researched Psychotherapy and I know from the work I have done, it works. The model states that our thought process governs our emotions and therefore affects are behavior. Right? That means that I must have had negative thoughts throughout the past few years. Bullying from family and ultimately my beloved David having cancer with a little ‘c’. Prostate cancer, affected me in a way I had not thought possible. During this time I was  allowing my thoughts to become negative, didn’t mean to, just happened. Three years of emotional cruelty and bullying from my daughter and sister, rendered me very low. Then on top of that David being diagnosed, out of the blue with cancer, seemed to be the straw that broke the camels back, so to speak. Wives and partners of men with PC will know what I am talking about. Any cancer sufferer can possibly identify with me here. When the word ‘cancer’ is said, out loud, about the person you love, thinking in a positive way, just doesn’t happen. There is nothing positive to think of, nothing positive to say. My thoughts became, unrequested, negative with a capital N. Yes we try to stay positive but I know I failed, every time. I would sit and try hard to remember what I say to clients, how I use my model of therapy but as I have said before ‘physician heal thyself’ does not work. Doesn’t come close. I already knew at that stage that my brother had cancer and was dying, my eldest sister had died of cancer so the very word sent fear into every fibre of my being. Fear was my constant companion.

During every onslaught by family, I would sit down and try to make sense of their behavior and turn any negative thinking their actions had instigated in me, into a positive. Of course I couldn’t. Then with David’s diagnosis, my mind was in overdrive. Every negative thought that was out there, came flooding into my head. I would catastrophise my thoughts. Losing sight of reality and rushing into a black hole of despair. My emotions then would have a field day. In my professional role, I know how that affects us but back then I didn’t have a clue. Feeling scared, sad, angry all at the same time I would retaliate against those trying to hurt me. I would write on social media, email responses to their emails that should not have been written and reacted instead of responded to others. My emotional self that was hurting ,  became the scared child I had once been and all common sense, thoughts of being positive went out the proverbial window. Negativity ran riot and I am now embarrassed by some of the things I did or said. I have said before that when I am sad or hurt, I often use anger. ‘angry is sad’s  bodyguard’. But as I have always believed, the real me, the Carol Ann who cares about others, cares about her family and responds instead of reacting, can see the error of my ways. I have, as always believed of my clients, changed back. Change can be good but it can also be bad. But change in general, should be celebrated.These days when troubled thoughts, come into my already full head,I try to sit down before the emotions hit me and question the validity of the thoughts. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. This kind of thinking can hit me in the blink of an eye. A song, a tv programme or finding a photo that had been put away, then the thoughts bring the sadness and then I want to hide. But sometimes I can do a number on ME and succeed in changing the thoughts for a positive. So even now, I sometimes find myself struggling.

One of the ways I work with clients and now with Carol Ann, a tool or strategy I use, is that when aware of having negative thoughts, I consciously try to think of something good. Something that made me happy. A past good time or something good that happened and made me smile.When I can, the thought process changes how I am feeling and so the outcome is positive because it changes my behavior. Then I don’t need to hide.Sounds much easier than it is in reality but it does work.

There are natural changes in us as we grow older and some of these I have become all too aware of late. I know I have changed some for the better and some ways not so much. I feel more, am much more sensitive if that is possible. I appreciate more. I love more if that is possible. If it is ,that in itself is scary. I have become much more sensitive to everyone and everything in my life. I cry now, something missing from my life for more years than I care to remember.When my son was taken from me when I was so ill and adopted, I wasn’t able to cry. I cried over David last year, the thought of losing him, over and over, mostly on my own not to worry him. I cried buckets over my daughter Lisa, losing her and my grandchildren was unbearable. But I also remember certain occasions where I shed a tear in the past, something I have always felt hard to do. Being punished for tears as a child, I taught myself how not to cry.

There was a song on the radio today, ‘I Wasn’t Expecting That’ and a line touched me so much. ‘Took my heart by surprise’. Those are the times in my earlier life, that brought the tears. When each of my children were born, they took my heart by surprise. When Lisa crawled onto my lap and said ‘Love you Mummy’ for the first time, when she was a tiny little girl. When Marie, after all bad prognosis, walked for the first time, each time took my heart by surprise. One of the biggest surprises, one of the strongest emotions I have ever felt, was when my then son-in-law Paul, brought my first grandson Harrison, out of the operating theatre after my daughter  Lisa,gave birth by caesarean, at a few minutes old, and placed him in my arms. The huge rush of love I felt, took  my heart by surprise, I definitely wasn’t expecting that.When David asked me to marry him, I wasn’t expecting any of that.

But I have changed and now cry for good things more than I did, and bad things that render me so sad that I need to let the tears out; a good change. Seeing Marie and David walk down the aisle on her wedding, she was so beautiful and he so proud. But when I had the phone-call to say Tony had died, those tears were painful. At his funeral, listening to family at the service and later at the wake, having them take me back into the bosom of his family, ‘well I wasn’t expecting that’.

Each time I read of man in our groups who has lost his fight against cancer, I cry a few tears, it is as though I knew each and every one. Each death brings with it sadness but also gratitude that David was spared. Every day is a bonus for us now. Life has shown me so many changes over the past few years and left me shell-shocked at times. Most changes have been good, even if the bad ones had brought them to fruition. Most have been positive and those that weren’t, I hopefully am in the process of changing for the better. The one thing I am finding easier, is the abolition of the ‘F’ word. Staying positive can render that gone, most times at least.

So in my work and in my own life, I will embrace change, plunge in and join in the dance.

Thankyou for reading x

Tomorrow is Easter Sunday and with that in mind, my thoughts have strayed to Easters gone before, for me as a little girl and for me as a  Mum and then wife. For more than 10 years of my younger life, I was a member of our local church choir. I had started singing with them, firstly I must admit to saying, as  respite from my life at home. Going to church seemed safe, peaceful and friendly. I joined the choir at the request of the choir mistress and remained, for as I said, more than 10 years. I loved, singing, loved the services and just loved being part of this safe haven. I acquired Faith and hoped that what I was part of, was real. I believed back then that the bible stories were true and that belief in God was  something that would keep me safe. My faith, over the years has been tested to say the least. For the whole of Lent, the church was devoid of flowers. The services were more somber but Palm Sunday, the week before Easter was joyous. We were allowed to place flowers in the church for Easter Saturday weddings but otherwise, we did not wear our white robes, the priest did not wear his cassock and the church seemed to be in mourning. Many couples were married on Easter Saturday back then and as a choir we were often asked to sing. I loved the weddings, the dresses, the ‘happy’. Then Easter Sunday arrived and along with it, the colour. The flowers, the robes, the altar cloths and everyone who came to services were dressed in their finery, which were mostly bright colourful clothes.

I had a close bond with my Nan on my mother’s side and she would always make little hats for us girls. I remember going on the bus with her to our local high street and buying skull caps from Woolworth’s and lots of silk flowers and ribbon. I loved these outings especially the pre Easter one, we both enjoyed our time together. On arriving home she would set to work transforming these goodies into beautiful colourful Easter bonnets for us to wear in church. I always loved mine and wore it with pride, to and from the church, changing into my robes for the service. Purples, yellows, pinks and blues adorning our heads. Pretty to say the least. Girls wore dresses much more back then, the effect of these bonnets would be lost on today’s girls and their jeans, hoodies etc. The Easter anthems we sang, carried our voices out into the more than often, sunny churchyard and everyone seemed to be smiling. Lovely happy memories. More important to me than the arrival ‘home’ and having chocolate eggs.

We began the day, as I remember with boiled eggs that we had painted the day before in food colouring, something I continued with my own daughters Lisa and Marie for many years of their childhood. Nan would have made a Simmel cake and little Easter buns. Another memory and another tradition I continued in my own family. Good Friday had already given us hot cross buns and in the early days, Nan would have baked them but later we bought them from the local shop, not as good as Nan’s. For those who know of my life, time with her was special and safe, although I was told to spend time with her often, as a way of not being included in family stuff. But little did anyone know how much these times meant to us both.

At church, Easter was a time for new beginnings. The Easter story, although beginning with sadness and loss, sacrifice and betrayal, it ended with a new life beginning. Good and a reason to rejoice after the bad and the need to mourn. That is in essence, my blog today.

When I became a Mum, I took my first daughter Lisa, to church in the early days and celebrated Easter as I had always done, with flowers, eggs etc. As my family grew I would colour the breakfast eggs and later, as they grew older, my daughters  would paint pictures on their eggs. I hid chocolate eggs in the garden and they would hunt for them, often when very young, friends would join us. Easter was happy time, a time to celebrate the things to come. As Lisa was a brownie we often went to the Sunday service in our local church, always a happy time. I hope my eldest daughter continues traditions she learned as a little girl, with her own little girl and her sons. Easter is a time for new beginnings, new hope. A time to celebrate what we have and be grateful. A time for moving forward and making things right if we can, or accepting that the things we can’t change, we have to accept.

This past year has brought the greatest sadness to us ‘here on the farm’. Lots of worry, lots of fear and lots of loss. This time 1 year ago I wrote a blog ‘The Nasty Effects of the ‘F’ word in cancer’. The ‘F’ word being fear. And oh how scared was I. How much Fear did it bring into our home, into our lives. We had recently heard that my brother Tony had been given one year to live, in the January. Then my beloved husband having been diagnosed with PC, had surgery to remove the cancerous prostate in the February. My little dog had a tumour removed and her heart stopped. She is living on borrowed time.All of that brought fear that I had never known before. And believe me, I had known some. The blog mentioned above, was written 1 year ago and how life has changed, thank goodness. Sadly as you know, Tony my brother, my Big bear, lost his fight against cancer in January this year and he left a huge void in so many lives. Mine being one.His last year had seen betrayal from family members he trusted, made his time left so much harder than it should have been. In past blogs I explained how they had hurt him and how hard this was for all of us, his family.His death although expected was so hard to accept. I am still going to the phone to ring him. I am still not able to listen to a recoding of his voice. I still seem unable to actually accept he is no longer in  my world. Life is different, everything seems different. My world seems a different place now without him in  it..

 Today though, I was remembering Easters as a child, with Tony having the biggest Easter egg, more Easter eggs than any of us and can still hear his laugh in my head and see his cheeky grin. It made me think of how cross he would be that I was still sad. How cross he would be if he could see how I had stopped living my life in full because of my loss. And he would tell me off , I know he would. So yes, I will try to mourn, grieve but won’t allow myself to continue to be consumed by his loss, so much so that I am not present for David or my family. He would be cross that I was not enjoying everything I have ‘here on the farm’, everything he loved. So it has to stop. Easter Day will bring about a change in me. It has to.

One of the positive things that have come along with all the worry and the pain of the past few years, is my realisation that we have no time to waste. That I for one, have wasted far too much already. Losing my brother, seeing so many deaths on my Prostate Cancer groups and hearing of a death of someone I knew years ago, has emphasized that. I know now, that life is always shorter than we might want. That people we expect to be with us all of our lives, can die. If you are religious as I once was, Good Friday was a huge loss, a death that was mourned and still is all over the world in places. Grief doesn’t just ‘go away’, I know that. But Easter  brings a new beginning, a joy, a reason to celebrate life. We should all do that, even in our grief as hard as it is, we should all celebrate every day we have and show those around us how important life is. Every morning as we open our eyes, no matter what else is happening in our lives, we should take a breath and be grateful. 

I have so much in my life to be thankful for. David survived surgery although, as I have said before, unbeknown to me, he didn’t think he would. He is cancer free or at least as free as they can say today. I have a wonderful daughter in Marie, my best friend and now a son-in-law who has shown us he is the right man for her. I am in constant touch with my son in Southampton and his wife. I am living in a beautiful place, surrounded by the magnificence of Mother Nature. Have an abundance of wildlife on our ponds and lake and ponies and horses in our paddocks. I am blessed to still have my 2 little dogs with me and my cats. In all I am a very lucky lady.

Things have changed these past few weeks, along with my inability to grieve, maybe too much is happening to prevent this. Marie Jason and her cats and ponies are now back here with us. Wasn’t what we planned but needs must. They are living in the static home, on our land, until we put ours on the market, later this year we hope. So on hold for now but that’s okay. I need to get my head and heart sorted before we make another move.

Life could be better, I acknowledge that. Although my son Jonathan is back in my life and I have family in Hampshire, I don’t get to see him or them very often, I miss being closer. Now I have my family back, I am in touch with all of them and for that I am so grateful. But life is what it is and in reality it is pretty good. Yes I still have to mourn my loss and will, I know, in time. I can’t suddenly be bright and happy but will try not to be sad and down. At least, not all the time as I have been. I have now accepted that my relationship with my eldest daughter Lisa is broken beyond repair. I did hope a few weeks ago that maybe it could be mended but know now that it can’t because she doesn’t want it mended. But whatever happens, I can’t spend the rest of my life dwelling on that. I am sure she doesn’t. Life is too important, time is too precious, I know that now and I cannot keep hankering after things I can’t make better.

Easter Sunday is going to be the beginning of the next chapter of my book. Funny really as it will mark the continuation of my writing, another book to add to my repertoire so to speak. Easter Monday is a day of resurrection, new life, new positives for us all I hope. My dream for this next chapter is to have the ‘happy’ back and I think I will begin the first chapter tomorrow. Another new journey to look forward to and this time I think I am on the right path. I think I am ready.

Happy Easter everyone and Thankyou for reading x

These past few weeks it seems, there are more than usual, posts about the sad deaths of group members from PC .Each story is so hard to read, so full of heartache and for every story there is either a wife/partner, father, son or brother or sister grief-stricken. Lots of us comment, trying to help, trying to offer some kind of comfort and support, the reason for the groups existence, support and love. I often can’t find the words to say,  stuck a bit in my own grief for my brother Tony, who died from Lung cancer a few weeks ago. I know that words can’t change anything. Make it better. Make the pain go away. Bring the loved one back. But sometimes I do try to offer some kind of support in my own way, with my own words. I try and convey my love and feelings of emotion, at their loss, in the hope that in some small way it might help. I use words so much in my daily life and hope they are not always futile. Grief is such a huge emotion, all-consuming at times and I think it is so good that we have these places, social media, groups available to share our feelings and thoughts, good or bad. I hope those bereaved in the PC groups gain comfort from the comments shared on here.

Anyone of us, as members of cancer groups, could be writing such a story, telling of our loss, our pain, our loneliness and helplessness. That I think, is the reason we try to comment in the most gentle caring way we can. It could be me, it could be any of us, walking that lonely road, feeling despair,feeling lost. I always try and stay aware of that. Every day I am grateful that our journey, is so far, positive, that it isn’t me telling the story, every day I am so much more aware of how others might be feeling.

My worry is, that new members, those just starting out of the road none of us wanted to travel, those in the early stages of this horrid disease won’t continue down the page, after reading of the sad death of a member.Continue down and read of all the men who are now having ‘Undetectable’ PSA’s. I hope they continue reading the success stories of men with PC. I hope they read the stories of men who have had surgery, radiation or whatever treatment they chose, see how they are now doing well, are healthy, running marathons, seeing their children grow up. I hope they look at the statistics and know that PC is now not always a killer, survival rates are so much better. When PC is detected early, men can recover and have a good life. Even when discovered later, at a different stage, it is not always a death sentence.

When I first joined the PC groups, I had already read and researched a great deal. I was welcomed and given some good advice, lots of support but along with this, I also read about men dying. I was overwhelmed and had to take a step back and re-group so to speak. It was all too much, sent me into panic. All I could see was that my beloved husband might die. It became all-consuming and left me reeling. Reading of deaths of men from the disease my David had, fueled the ‘F’ word and my world seemed to be spinning out of control. Cancer. Sickness. Death. That’s what I read, saw and believed. Those of you who have read earlier blogs will have read of my terror in the early days. My fears, my helplessness and back then, my anger at this interloper, barging into my happy world and threatening to steal the man I love.

As I said, I read of deaths, of PC being a death sentence and it seemed that I was ‘drawn’ to the worst scenarios. Not at that point, noticing, or even if I had, understanding things posted like ‘Undetectable!’ I found myself dwelling on the sad heart-wrenching stories of treatments, sickness, pain and death. I was in this dark bewildering, terrifying  place that is PC Fog. Nothing positive stood out to me. Being strong didn’t stand a chance.

Now after David having surgery to remove the evil cancer, recovering and then getting back to being my strong man. My oh so capable loving husband. My rock. I am thankful to be able to post in my groups that he is now cancer free. Or as cancer free as possible. His last 3 PSA readings were undetectable and he is to have a check now yearly. How good is that! I share my joy, my ecstasy, on here, in my groups, to my friends to anyone who might be reading. David is okay. He isn’t going to die from PC!

Because I am a wordsmith, I hope readers read my usually long and detailed posts ( why use one word when you can use 30) on David’s PSA results, his progress, our life ‘here on the farm’ post PC and gain some encouragement and share a little of our joy. In one way, I am glad I write long posts on my page because there may be other Carol Ann out there, lost in her own fear, feeling desperate, feeling alone in the worry, anxiety and confusion that PC brings in abundance. She may be finding themselves scrolling past the short factual results of PSA’s and come across mine and feel a little reassured.

I must admit that reading of the sad losses these past weeks, I find myself feeling a little uncomfortable, embarrassed and yes, a little guilty. How can I be so happy and tell members of my relief, happiness and peace, when others are suffering so much. I now understand clients who come to me for CBT for stress after trauma, after a disaster, or from combat, suffering survivor guilt. I understand now in a way that all my learning during training didn’t actually teach me. Now I understand.

But we must share our heartache on here as much as  we must share our happiness. We need to share it, that is why we are here. All of us. To listen, to share, to care and to comfort. We are also here to enjoy the success stories, each one is one in the eye for cancer with a little ‘c’. Happiness shared is as the picture says, joy. Sharing sorrow, although it can’t be taken away from the person feeling it, it can be felt to be lessened. The load of pain, spread around those who care, those who understand, some of those who have been there.

If you are the wife/partner, relative of a loved one who has lost the fight, my heart goes out to you. I won’t insult you by saying I know how you feel, I don’t. Losing my beloved brother brings me very close to understanding and hating cancer of any kind with a vengeance. Please continue reading the posts on here, if you can. You may find others who are feeling pain like you feel and this might, in a very small way, help a little.

If you are one of the ‘Undetectable’ on here, enjoy. I am so happy for you and every one of us who survive is shouting at cancer that it won’t win. One day, very soon I hope, no one will die from PC. Bring on that day!

At home ‘here on the farm’.

As some of you know, we have been moving our daughter Marie, back here with her 5 cats and three horses, of yes, and her husband. She has been very poorly and things became a bit too much. She has recovered very well and says that it is because she has ‘come home’. Although I am happy she feels like this, it also brings worry that we won’t always be here  for her to ‘come home to’. But for now, we will all enjoy family life as it has now become, sharing care of the 9 horses and ponies, stable cats and my two dogs. She is living independently from us, the other side of our drive, in the static home with a new touring van to add space and extra amenities. So it seems to work, for now. We are and always have been very close, since she was a child as I was with her sister, so having her here is good and we know it works.

This past week I have been delighted to chat to someone who shared my girls childhoods, who was one of their friends, one of the many who often come home from school with my girls and played or later did homework. Often they would say they could talk to me in a way they couldn’t talk to their own mums. That happens doesn’t it. Sometimes ‘Mums’ are too close. This now woman, reminded me of lovely, happy  times, silly times and parties I put on for my daughters. She said it was always good sharing our home, being with me and the girls and she always felt happy with us. She also told me that everyone would comment on how close a family we were, me Lisa and Marie, ‘Carol and her girls’. Said how lovely it was, as they grew up, to be part of ‘us’. You don’t know how good it was to hear. How lovely to be reminded of memories locked away. This time those memories didn’t hurt, what they did, was to confirm what I had always hoped, that my daughters had a good happy childhood. That is what every mum wants to hear. Why did it mean so much to me? These past years of pain and heartache, courtesy of my eldest daughter Lisa and her aunt, have almost managed to destroy my memories of that time, made me question them, but now I know what I have always hoped and known in my heart, I was a good mum, as good a mum as I could be, given the circumstance and that the children who were part of all of this, knew that .

Now back to check my new charges, feed the dogs and cats and then get ready for my clinic in the morning. Feels good to be back in work, back to helping those in need. It has been a horrible start to 2018 but I aim to make the rest of it as good and happy as possible. The caravan park over the way is active, I can hear children playing and smell cooking al fresco.The sun is out, the ducks playing on the pond and lake, horses and ponies happily grazing and my beloved husband sitting in the garden with a cup of tea. What more could a girl ask for .

Thankyou for reading xx

 

 

 

 

I was once told that life goes in circles. That I might find myself back where I started having faced the good and the bad life throws at me. These past few weeks that all makes sense and I believe it to be true. 8 years ago we arrived ‘here on the farm’, David, Marie, me and the dogs, ponies and cats. We were a small close family having had to leave some family in Hampshire 14 years previous to this move, to be with David in his job. That was the hardest thing for me, leaving Lisa, Harrison and Jordan my daughter and grandsons but they promised to visit often and we visited them as much as we could. She was married at that time and had talked of moving to Spain. So we, the three of us, became very close, looked after each other and looked out for each other and our animals. We were very happy. When we moved again, here to West Wales to enable us to have the horses and ponies living with us, life changed a bit but we, as a family, remained the same. To maintain some independence, our daughter lived in a static home on our drive that she loved. Just her and her 3 cats. Every night I would look out of my study window and stay there until her lights were out, then I knew she was safe and locked up. Yes she has ‘moved out’ but I still wanted to care for her and make sure she was safe. Life went on and after a disastrous relationship and loss of a baby, a very sad time for us all, she met and married Jason, moving onto a farm some way from us to begin a new project training therapy ponies. Then we became 2, David and I, our dogs and cats. First time on our own and it was good. Happy.

Marie became ill a few months ago and that meant she could not complete her project ,and was struggling to look after the ponies. At the same time, she found her home to be very damp, she had to move out. This past week has seen us working hard to prepare for the return of her and her family. Lock stock and barrel! We have frantically been clearing and cleaning the static, buying a tourer, for extra room and for her to shower and cook in; trying to  finish unfinished jobs, that had been left when David had surgery and was recovering. Moving her ‘stuff’, from her farm and bringing it here to us. They are here now and although Marie is now not alone in the static, I found myself looking out of my study window last night, until her lights went out. Full circle. Very similar to how it was but different.

As you all know, those who are regular readers, life here changed in 2013 when I became estranged from my eldest daughter, her choice and I was shut out of her life. All of the things done to me by her, the lies and stories, rendered me ill and David had to look after me. It was him who held me while I cried myself to sleep at the nasty comments made on my social media, the damage she and my sister was doing to me and my reputation, or trying to. He cared for me, loved me, encouraged me to stay strong and listened while I went over and over what had happened, trying to make sense of it all. Then, a few years later it was my turn to look after David. When he was first diagnosed with Prostate Cancer I was terrified, he wasn’t, he just said that we will find out what we are facing, deal with it and face it all together. After surgery it was me who held him, me who listened to his fears and made the world seem kinder than it sometimes is .Now my wonderful husband is free from the nasty, the cancer with a little ‘c’ and for a while we rejoiced in this. But now, the circle has been turned back again, I have been diagnosed with an ‘syndrome’ that we know little about or about any dangers that go with it. I said in an earlier blog, that the symptoms came just before David had surgery, I put most of it down to stress after the few previous years that I have talked about on here. But it wasn’t and now I am having more symptoms. I have Left subclavian Steal Syndrome, It means that the subclavian artery is 80% blocked, restricting the blood flow to my left arm and hand. I get chest pain, numbness and tingling. They could operate but that apparently is dangerous and can cause stroke but not operating I believe, has its worries. I am in the process of having that investigated. So now the ‘what ifs’ return. The ‘f’ word is back as my companion. Another ‘circle’?

Maybe the beginning of an old circle returning, is throwing up worries of their own. I loved having Marie so close, as did David, we shared the horses and ponies, dogs and cats and had lots of fun, lots of family ‘stuff’. He loves her as much as I do, she is an amazing daughter. Whilst I am happy to have her back, I am obviously not happy at what brought her back. The latest illness she had, was scary and horrid to watch. She is now recovering. But having her back, brings its own worry. It’s own ‘what ifs’. The health scare I now have is left me teetering on the edge and left me scared once again. Not for myself but ‘what if’ she became ill again and I can’t look after her? Then ‘what if’ David is ill again, what if !what if! what if!!! Gone full circle back to the horrible worry of last year and the one before! The life circles are becoming repetitive. Worry. Illness. Fear. Worry. Illness. Fear. Cancer does that. Just the word alone and those of us who have been there, been traumatised in the way the illness can traumatise you, know that from that day, every little twinge, every little health scare, can send you back to that awful time. As I have said before, I call Prostate cancer the ‘couple’s cancer’ because it affects wives/partners as much as it does the man, but obviously for different reasons.

The last circle or two have been more of a roller coaster than a circular journey. The lows were lower and scarier than I could ever have imagined. Losing family, being lied about and maligned. The fear of losing David and then losing my beloved brother Tony. I was lower than I had ever been. I did ride the storms, I did it in every detail on here. I rose above the waves many times and it looked as though my battle was won. Then, like a thunderbolt, a circle meets again and I am thrown off kilter.  There have been highs. Marie’s wedding was one such high, a beautiful affair and everyone had a lovely time. She made a beautiful bride. But the lows have outweighed the highs and I am hoping that a circle full of ‘happy’ will soon show its face.

The best ending to one of our circles was David having , again, undetectable PSA on his last 3 blood test results. Wow what a high!

So Life has come full circle, in as much as we are living ‘here on the farm’ and the lights are on in our static caravan, where Marie, Jason and her 5 cats have set up home. Only temporarily but that circle seems complete and makes me happy. I never wanted any situation to bring her back here as I believe she and her husband should live away from us. But she was ill and living in a home that was adding to her illness, we did what any parent would do and brought her home. Living there permanently is not going to happen, this is a temporary move. But their dearest wish is that when we move, downsize, we will buy a property with 2 homes and they can live on the same piece of land, albeit in a separate home. They want to be able to look after us when we grow old enough to need and accept their help. Such a lovely thought and think about it we will. Maybe the saying that if you set someone free they will come back to you, has its merits, perhaps that is the ultimate full circle.

So life has thrown curve balls at us, things no one should go through, especially the family stuff but we have survived. My family is smaller that envisaged, but growing again and in this respect my family circle is the same but different.

Life has indeed been a zig zag path and I have often nearly fallen off the cliff but I am still here to tell the tale. I wouldn’t want the full circle to take me back any further than before I met David. Far too much pain, worry and heartache in earlier life. He has tried so hard to keep me safe and me him. We will continue on that path.

I began one of the most important circles in my whole life, 32 years ago. That is still unbroken. It has been attacked from all of its circumference, all around, by various ‘enemies’. Illness, ‘family’ and more but it is still very much intact. David gave me a trio of silver Russian bracelets that represent the full unbreakable circle of love. I wear it constantly. My love, his love, with keep our circle strong no matter what life throws at us. We will endeavor to help anything on the inside flourish with life and love. For always the never-ending circle.

Thankyou for reading x

 

Postscript

 

You would think, that a year on and all would be fine, the circle still entact wouldn’t you. But no. Things change all the time don’t they, Marie and her little family have been here a year now. Jason, her 3 cobs and 5 cats, completing our family circle and it has been good. But things change as I said. The project Marie was embarking on before she became ill is now back on track and they will all be off again in April to begin this new adventure. It is very exciting and I am so proud of what she is doing. They won’t be  too far from us or where we are currently, but it will seem very quiet ‘here on the farm’. We will still be looking to move, either to a 2 property home or one close to where she is. 

Life is hard today but I will tell more about that next week, too sad at present to write it down, but tears are better written down and when they come, I will again write.

Things are the same with Lisa, my eldest, not for want of trying but that is how it is. Very sad but is what she wants so I have to accept it. The damage done over the past few years by her and my sister is irreparable and lasting but I would still make things right if I could. Once a Mum always a mum, unconditional love continues even if liking that child is hard.

Hope you guys are good.

 

Like, many of the sufferers and partners of men with Prostate Cancer, I belong to a few groups on here. Some just for women, a necessary place to be able to share our inner thoughts and feelings. Others mixed groups, again, sharing this horrid journey, supporting others, showing empathy and compassion. Until David had PC. I had no idea of its nature and certainly wasn’t ready for how it would affect me. He had never been ill, apart from a few isolated Vasal Vagal attacks, had never been ill in bed or off work. PC came as a huge shock as you will certainly all understand. I joined PC Awareness first and was surprised at how open and friendly the group was. As time went on and I found myself struggling emotionally, I began this blog. Needed a place to vent, my anger, share my fears and tell how I felt in all my honesty. Life had been hard for reasons I have written about and the diagnosis of cancer was the final blow. I had a brother terminally ill with lung cancer, who sadly I have lost; had lost my sister to breast cancer, have a little dog with cancer and then my beloved husband. It all seemed too much. Other pressures, nastiness courtesy of my eldest daughter Lisa and my youngest sister had left me wanting. Already very low and then this final horrible blow. Life still deals its pain, life still continues on its path whether cancer affects you or not. Having been told of David’s illness didn’t suddenly stop all the other heartache, just pounded it further in.

My experience of the groups has been positive throughout. I have tried to comfort and encourage others on here, who, like me, were or are struggling. I have tried to write positively on the pages of the groups and replying in a kind way, if sometimes not very informative but that is possibly because I don’t have the knowledge others needed. I can only comment with what I know and what I have experienced. But I would never be unkind, judgmental or claim that how we dealt with PC is the only right way. My blogs are open, honest and tell my complete story as it happens, warts ‘n all.Everyone on these groups is fighting a battle. The same battle, in as much as their men or the men themselves have or had Prostate cancer. But. Every single one of us is unique. We all deal with things differently. The battle may be the same battle but is different for each of us. No one really knows what is happening in the lives of other members of the groups. Not really. We only know what is written in their posts. We don’t have the right to judge. We don’t have the right to tell them what choice to make. We don’t have the right to do anything except support and care. I believe in the power of the written word. That is why I am cross that some of the people I call my FB friends, have been hurt by the words of others. I don’t believe anyone writes on the groups to offend, hurt, embarrass or belittle anyone. Maybe the wording of some posts just come across as judgmental or harsh, maybe been misinterpreted which means we should choose our words carefully. But some have been hurt and offended and it needs to stop please. If you believe the choice you or your husband made is the right choice, remember it is the right choice for you. It may not be for other members. If you believe other treatments are not good treatments, again, that is your opinion and may not be another’s. Every word you write is scrutinised by many readers. Being told your way is the only way can scare others who have chosen another way. During this journey, this unwanted journey, we can be very sensitive, very fragile. We rest on every word written in our groups, read and re read many and can become confused as to what is best. If we have made the decision on treatment and are ‘told’ that it is not the best kind, our confidence in that treatment can be diminished. We can become even more afraid and this is not good for any of us. Fragility in this process is almost a definite. I believe, being a usually very strong lady, that we can be rendered vulnerable, fragile and seemingly weak. No matter how we were pre PC, we are not that person for a time during the PC battle.

What members need is compassion. Advice yes, but not ordered or said in a way that sounds as though the writer is telling you what to do. We all need, support in anything we say or think. Care and concern, definitely, sprinkled with a lot of love. But most of all we all  need and deserve,respect. For the decisions we made, the pain we have been through or are going through. Respect for sharing our stories on here. Please everyone, show that in every comment you might make. If you can’t be kind and encouraging then maybe don’t say anything.

On another group, there has been a great deal written about using humour and being too upbeat. I love hearing about success stories and I have shared my husband’s results on my groups. I didn’t see the offending posts so can’t comment but hope at no time, if I have I used humour, that has caused another to feel hurt or upset.

There it is, my perspective of the past week on the groups. Let’s hope things improve as each and everyone’s comments are so important to our emotional health and wellbeing. We need these groups and the amazing, strong brave people in them. We are all in this together, worth remembering. Keep it up everyone.

Mother’s Day

This week, in the run up to Mother’s Day or Mothering Sunday, finds me with mixed emotions as I am sure it does many women on here. As a young mum of two daughters, it was such a lovely time, my little girls and then not so little, whispering to each other in corners, hiding things from me when I walked in the room. The actual day saw me spoiled with cards, flowers, sweets etc. and so much love from them both. To hear your child say ‘I love you Mum’, is the best. Every mum knows that, I hope. As young women, each of them continued the spoiling on my special day even after Lisa became a mum herself.

It was however tinged with a sadness I can’t describe. Full of regrets for things I had no control over. The loss of my sons’. One to adoption through a horrid time in my early womanhood and one a little later born sleeping. Throughout the years passed, I would imagine what they each would look like at certain ages. Wonder what Jonathan my son who was taken from me and adopted, was doing. What he liked, how he was doing at school etc. I was filled with pain and hurt. Mother’s Day was always so hard in between the happy with my daughters Lisa and Marie. I always hoped that Jonathan and his adoptive mum were close. That they shared a great love but then that would also bring envy that I wasn’t there, in his life. 22 years of his life, I lost and that is one of my biggest sources of pain. The little boy I lost to his illness before birth, I would and still do wonder about what kind of child and now man he would have been. So much sadness. Trying to hide that over the years was very hard.

Whether a pregnancy ends happily or not, you are still a mum. If the child grows up with you or not, you are still a mum. If a baby is lost through any means, the love and maternal bond is never really broken. Meeting my son Jonathan at the age of 22, and now having a close relationship with him proves that. In the earlier years, having two loving daughters helped with the pain and they showed me their love every day.

But life is different now. Marie is my closest woman friend, some say too close. She has shown over the years her love, support, loyalty and friendship. She is funny, beautiful, loving, clever, artistic and happy. Mother’s Day with her is always special. She and Jason her husband, will spend the day here, coming later this morning and stay all day. We will be busier this year as they are coming back here to live for a while, next week and so there is a lot to do.

But something is missing, something that can never change. My estrangement, at her instigation, with my eldest daughter, hurts as much today and it always has done. For almost 5 years now. She was my first child and special because of that. I hope her little girl and her two sons, my grandchildren make Mother’s Day as special for her as she helped make it for me in the past. Yes she has caused me pain that is beyond explanation and I don’t like her for what she has done to me and others. But today, as I write this in the early hours of the morning, I have so many regrets, along with many many memories. My love for her is still there and days like this my feelings are so confused. I shouldn’t love her. I don’t like what she has become but don’t wish her any harm.

So although things are sad at times, I have beautiful memories of my little girls as they grew up with me. Memories of special times, Mothering Sunday being one of those. Funny times, loving times, and special times of sharing their lives. I can call on them whenever I want and no one can steal them away from me. I share photos of them as children because whatever has happened over the years, those special memories are as real and true today and they have always been. As for my son, I am closer to him than I ever thought possible and for that I am so grateful.

Thank you for reading and if you are a Mum, enjoy your special day. x