Category: Uncategorized

 

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

 

In the past few days, along with many others I would think, I read something that brought a little hope for the awareness and diagnosis of Prostate Cancer. Too late for many of us but looking better for men in the future.

‘A one-stop’ service to revolutionise prostate cancer treatment has been launched by the Health Service.

The quick-access programme slashes the time taken for a diagnosis from around six weeks to just days.

Patients have all their tests in one day, rather than several. And doctors use the latest MRI scanners and techniques to search for the disease with far greater accuracy than before.

Doctors hope to test 5,000 men over the next two years in the £1.6million trial’

Of course this is good news and I am pleased that at last, PC is being taken seriously, not talked about as the ‘Good cancer’. Raising awareness and having earlier diagnosis is so important but in my own mind, I am not sure this approach will work. I am unsure that every man offered this, will take it up. As the wife of a sufferer, long before his diagnosis, I know how hard it is or was to get my husband to the doctor for anything. Even a Flu vaccination! David had suffered a few Vasal Vagal attacks over the past 20 years and was taken to hospital on 2 of these occasions having lost consciousness. The other times, he recovered quite quickly and did not allow me to call a doctor. It was only when he fell unconscious, on those occasions, I summoned help. He couldn’t argue and I called paramedics. He has never actually been ill as such, served 40 years with the MOD and never had a sick day. Before his diagnosis I had to make our appointments for flu vaccinations and tell him he was having it. Arguing that as my health was not too good, if we both caught it who would take care of us. Since his PC diagnosis, only found as our GP did a routine PSA check as part of our ‘keep well’ yearly checkup, we have had so many appointments with hospitals, GP’s, nurses etc. that now he is recovered, our diary looks relatively empty. Thank goodness.

It is proven that early testing and diagnosing could save a man’s life. But I, personally, don’t think it is the fear of dying that would stop some men from having this blood test or any of the other tests. I believe it is fear of the potential side effects of treatment. I have read on my groups of a few men, who won’t have any treatment for fear of these. They will leave the cancer alone and take their chance; that way they can continue having a normal sexual life and not risk embarrassing incontinence. Getting our men to see a doctor is sometimes almost impossible. To ask a man to have a blood test that may show he has PC, that then could result in treatment that may lead to possible incontinence, Erectile Dysfunction or die, I would think, was just not going to happen for some.

Then there is the manual test, the biopsy, the further blood tests and so on. I think embarrassment will put men off. Maybe if they are taught as very young men, to expect this test in early manhood as the norm, not something that could potentially affect their ‘manhood’, and that most can be cured if caught early enough. Maybe if the manual test was stopped and instead of biopsies, MRI’s could be the first step towards diagnosis, some men may get tested. So it is the Awareness we need to increase. Without fear, without embarrassment, with huge amounts of encouragement and love. Then maybe, just maybe, more younger men will have the test.

I know that one of the worst things for both of us was the waiting. I have blogged about this before. Having the PSA test, then waiting for the result. Waiting for weeks then having another one. Then the waiting again. Then the manual test, that at least was conclusive on the day or at least the GP said the prostate was enlarged, so more tests were needed. Then the wait for the biopsy. The wait for the results. The wait for the MRI. THE WAIT FOR THE RESULTS!! Waiting.Waiting Waiting! While our minds, or at least my mind went into overdrive. At least this new way of diagnosing will shorten that waiting time and even if the results are not favorable, the patient and his family will know what to expect far earlier than they do currently. That has to be good.

So yes we need to raise awareness but do so with more positivity. Prostate Cancer is not always a killer. Yes sadly men can die from it but if discovered early in a man’s life, the prognosis is much better. So we need to make men more aware. But I still believe, the issues around ED and Incontinence have to be addressed and maybe research into better treatment, that does not leave our men with these issues, needs to concentrate on making the treatments better, so that men are not left with life changing physical and psychological problems. There needs to be more done to improve the chances of a full recovery. Some men have no problems, after treatments such as radiotherapy or surgery, some sadly do. We need to somehow get past the embarrassment in our men, the fear of the tests, the treatments and the recovery. We need to talk less about the negative possible effects and more about life with or without possible side effects. We also need to let our men know that a life with or without sex is still life and we still love them. Why! Because they are still our men. Still the same person and love can overcome all of the things written about here. That is part of us being a couple. Part of our ‘job’ as their wife or partner. Part of the vows, formal or not, that we made when we began the adventure of a life as a couple. We can do this! My recent blog ‘A DIFFERENT KIND OF LOVE’, tells how we, David and I got through this.

To be able to do all of this, to be there for our partners and for ourselves we need to take care of us in the process. The caption above isn’t because others don’t care, or let us take ‘time out’ it’s because I should know its okay to do this. It’s not selfish, it’s necessary. To be able to take care of others, those we love, we need to be well ourselves. We need to look after our own health, our own needs and our own emotional health. I teach my clients this and so now I need to heed my own teachings

In the past few years, I took my eye off the ball. I allowed ‘family’ to steal away my time. The onslaught from my daughter Lisa Pond and sister Trisha-Anne Hopkins, rendered me unable to concentrate on anything other than their desire to hurt me. These past 3 years have seen all of that, as well as my brother’s health deteriorating and then David having PC. Still I was not focusing on myself but was, for a while, a long while, kind of distracted from making sure I was okay because of just trying to hold on, keep my head above water. Very silly but I am sure many wives, carers, have been where I found myself at that time. My blogs during the past 18 months have talked a great deal about my fears, my sadness, my anger and frustration. Have talked about how the nasty stuff thrown at me by ‘family have made me ill. Sometimes I was so stressed that I felt I was falling apart. But I never did and don’t intend to now.

The recent death of my brother Tony and the continuing worry about the court case he brought against my daughter and sister, especially the charges proven against my daughter and consequences for her, have left me wanting. Tony’s death has hit me hard and I have not been too well. David thankfully, is now recovered but is very tired. I feel I have contributed to that because of his need to try and take care of me. Something he has done since I met him 32 years ago. He didn’t sign up for all the horrid things he has had to witness at my daughter and sister’s hands, against me. But he has never once waivered in his love and support. Grief is not only for those who have died, I am grieving for those lost but still living. But I have not begun grieving yet. I know that. So much to grieve for. I teach clients who come to me for therapy, that grief will take as long as long as it takes. I need to give myself the chance to do that. I also tell them that unresolved grief or unresolved issues can be internalised and turned in on ourselves. I now understand that. I have so many things to work through. I need to hand myself a permission slip and take time out.

Things came to ahead this week, I was having minor chest pain and left sided numbness in my hand and arm. I wasn’t going to see a doctor but had to collect prescriptions and found the surgery empty, so thought perhaps I needed to get it checked out.

Just before David had surgery for PC, last January, I had become unwell. I blogged about this at the time and the fear that I would not be well when he went in for his op or to look after him afterwards. I was angry at my body letting me down when I so needed to be well and strong. I was giddy, dizzy, unsteady and unable to concentrate properly. My BP was different, by a lot apparently in each arm and so my GP rushed me off to A&E. After a whole day there, I had every scan and test known to man. I thought it was perhaps stress because of everything that was happening. I was wrong. After a Doppler scan they found I had Subclavian Steal Syndrome, the left subclavian artery was 80 % blocked. I did see a vascular surgeon who was not too concerned as the symptoms had lessened a lot. Recently, intermittently, they returned. This visit to my doctor, my BP was different in each arm, my left pulse was very faint and my left hand much colder than my right. GP has sent off all my results and is concerned that no one had followed this through. So here we go again. More tests, more waiting more …..

The purpose of this part of my blog is this. When our children or our partners become unwell, we look after them, it’s just what we do willingly. In PC cases, our men become temporarily our ‘child’ and everything else gets pushed out of our minds. I don’t think we even do this consciously. It just happens. But you know, this might seem right at the time but we need to look after ‘us ‘ in all of this. What good are we if we are ill! How will they manage then! I for one don’t find it easy to put myself first, never have but now I need to. I need that time out.

Along this journey that we none of us wanted to make, we have to look after and out, for ourselves. I need to come to terms with everything my daughter has done, to me and to my brother. I need to try and understand why she wanted so much to hurt me. To understand how she could have done some of the things she has done over the past few years. How I allowed her to do them to me and to have such damaging effect on my emotions and my health.

I need to grieve for my brother, take the time out necessary to learn to live without him in my life. He would say, ‘just get on with your life darlin’, I know he would but I have to learn how to do this. The world is a different place without him.

So, along with the good news at the beginning of this blog, I need to be able to find some ‘good’ in myself. To remind myself that being there for everyone else, for allowing others to influence how I live my life with the hurt inflicted, comes at a price. Now for a very tiny bit of time, I need to take care of Carol Ann and all that that entails.

We have so much going on ‘here on the farm’. Marie and Jason, their animals etc. all returning home until we find a place for all of us together. I have my work to return to and continue with the two books I am writing. I also need to take time for all the things mentioned above. Mostly all the grief that needs attending to. For all of that, I need to be well. I need to look after me, need to tell myself that looking after me is okay.

It won’t be easy but is necessary. I also need to stop using valuable time and energy, worrying about those who have made it clear they are no longer part of my family. Stop beating myself up for the things I have had taken away from me or I have lost. Use that time looking after those close and also to look after Carol Ann. She does tend to neglect herself as most wives/partners do. Writing my blog has been a blessing and is part of my life process so I will continue to do that. Taking time out to enable me to be there for everything that life will bring in the future, is not a luxury but a necessity. One I realise now. I will hand myself a ‘permission’ slip for time out. Putting it into practice! That’s another thing entirely.

Thank you for reading. x

Some people ask why I blog. Since I joined the PC groups I have had support, advice, humour and love. I began my story from my perspective, to show how the wife or partner, of a man with Prostate cancer is affected by this horrid disease. It isn’t my husbands journey, it is mine and because PC does not come in isolation as I have said before, I write about my life, as it happens, including aspects of it, that have either added difficulties or pleasures during this painful scary time. On the PC groups I joined, I have read stories of great strength and courage and some of great heartache. My blog went down well, right from the start and I am grateful to everyone who either liked, commented, shared or pm’d me about any of the blogs posted. I read other members stories in their own blogs, sometimes they are difficult to read, painful and very personal as are my own. I write honestly and openly for those who are interested in how this disease can affect the care giver as well as the sufferer. Because I believe in the merits of writing down and sharing your inner, most feelings, it does not mean others have to read it. In my case,you will know it is a blog and those familiar with my kind of writing will understand that I write with no holds barred. Writing can help make sense of things, clarify how I really feel; I tell in my writing, things I know will be read by those I am no longer able to see. Because I only ever tell the truth, I have nothing to hide, it might one day, reach those meant to hear what I say, they may not always like it but I have no choice, this is the only way I can do that. It is their choice whether to read it or scroll by.

As I have said many times, PC does not come in isolation. It barges into your life regardless of problems or pain that are already there. It doesn’t differentiate if a person’s life is easy, hard or just plain difficult already. We all have ‘other stuff’ going on. All have family issues, work issues, in our lives that cause stress, pain or sadness. PC still comes and hits us in a huge overpowering manner. When I began this blog a few years ago, when David, my husband was being checked for PC as his PSA was high, life had already dealt me and my family blow after blow as I have said in earlier blogs. So nothing new. I promised from the start, to tell it as it was. Honestly, openly missing nothing out. Others have written and told me of their own personal struggles with their husband’s diagnosis and other things they are trying to cope with at the same time as this illness. It is always encouraging to find you are not alone that others also can be overwhelmed by their lives. That it isn’t just you. Some of these lovely people have become friends. I promised to tell it as it is, wart’s ‘n all and have and will continue to do so.  Taking this in mind, please remember this is from the wife of a PC sufferer, my perspective: also from a mother, a health professional and sometimes, from the me, who is today, feeling a confused, overwhelmed little girl.

It’s been a very strange week. I think I have experienced every single emotion known to man. Sometimes all at the same time it feels. One year since David had surgery to remove his diseased Prostate. What a year it has been, documented in every detail, emotion and thought in my weekly blog on here. The range of emotions that visited me is huge. Fear and anger being the strongest in equal measure. This time last year we were in the after math of the surgery, catheter in place and a very weak but resolute husband having to allow me to help him. It is usually the other way round where health issues are concerned. We have had more hospital and GP appointments for David than he had in the previous 40 years. His last PSA result was undetectable and the Consultant says he does not expect any recurrence as the cancer with a little ‘c’ was non aggressive. So one year on we have reason to celebrate. That brings the happy. The emotion we have seen little of but knowing this elated both of us and we began to look ahead to a future we had not been sure we had.

But the happy is tinged with sad, angry, frustration and the ‘F’ word, this time not for me.

Today saw me opening a box of my brother Tony’s mementos,  that his daughter had kindly sent me. This was so sad, so hard and painful, that although I have had it a few days, I only opened it properly today. The things he had kept warmed my heart. Photos of us together as children, cuttings from newspapers of my first book being published, little gifts I had sent him over the years, not everything but those that had obviously meant something to him and a little silver pill-box engraved from me to him ‘with love’ given to him in 1966 when he gave me away at my first wedding. He had kept these things for years, that felt good. Showed me that our love was strong and shared. I can’t begin the grieving process, not ready to let go. Never seems to be the right time to sit and allow my feelings, my tears to come and so they are on hold. I am hurting beyond hurt but can’t seem to allow it to come. Too much else happening maybe, I don’t know.

As a family we are still affected by the loss  of our lovely little pony, last week. But like the grief for my brother this has been put aside for another time. Because of losing her, Tammy, Oberon’s companion, we had to find a new stable mate straight away or he would have gone downhill and as he is in his 40’s we couldn’t risk that. A ‘happy’ is that he now shares his field etc. with Seva Gigi, his new companion.

You would think that was enough but that is not how it seems to happen of late, never one thing at a time. When we arrived home after our visit to Portsmouth, we found our youngest daughter Marie to be very unwell and as the illness may be ongoing,we have had to organize our home, to allow Marie’s family to return here.  Her health has not been good on and off for years but this time she was in so much pain, she has not been able to take care of her horses, the project she had begun and do the travelling involved. So when they asked if they could come back here to live for a while, we of course agreed. So we have been working hard for that to happen. Buying  a touring van and making the static home, work still in progress, fit  to accommodate her, her husband and 5 cats. Build stables to allow her to move her 3 horses to us and everything this needs to make it happen. It has been full on and hard work but her health is important and we willingly will help her as any parent would. The emotions around this, sadness for her, fear for her health, worry at how we were going to cope and  stress around the whole thing, has diverted my thinking for a while, giving me a diversion for the real big issues that have happened in this past week.

During the last year as those who are familiar with my blog know, we have been facing the death of my beloved brother. Sadly this ended on January 4th this year. Leaving us devastated and heartbroken. Throughout the past year, he has been trying to come to terms with the betrayal of our youngest sister Trisha and my eldest daughter Lisa, who both took advantage of him in his frailty. This resulted in a court case that happened last Thursday. After my blog last week I received an email from my daughter Lisa, telling me not to mention her name ever. I refused. In the past I have covered for her, let her get away with things she did to me and I am afraid that maybe this has lulled her into a false sense of right and wrong. Maybe she feels she can do these things and suffer no consequence, I don’t know. But hate to think I contributed in any way, in her ability to hurt those who trusted her. Hurting Tony and making his last year so hard and unhappy was cruel. She and my sister could have stopped all of this months ago.

During Lisa emailing me, I tried hard to encourage her to go to the court and if she really believed she was innocent, to tell the judge and if not believed, to offer to pay back what she owed. She refused. It was breaking my heart, writing email after email and getting back refusal to do the right thing or to go to court. I owe her nothing, unconditional love has been tried out of existence by my own daughter. I do love her, I will always love her but can’t condone what has happened. She has hurt me beyond pain over the years, lied to me, lied about me and caused me so much hurt but I still wanted to try to save her from the courts. Her last email was ‘softer’ than the way they began , she admitted to hurting me but no sign of a sorry. I so wanted her to say that and or, to go and plead her innocence if that is what she truly believed she was. She refused. Now she is a position I am sure that is scaring her and she will need support to survive it, I only hope she has that support. Not by her son bullying Tony’s family or making threats but by doing what is right, in any way that she can, to avoid even more punishment coming down on her head. I am scared for her and her future but can do nothing. The woman she ‘replaced’ me with has caused all of this as I said she would. There is no joy in knowing that.

I had warned my daughter a few years ago not to trust Trisha, my sister and said that when the going got tough or if things didn’t go Trisha’s way, she would walk away from Lisa without a thought. That she would come into her life as she had done, just to hurt me, trample all over it by pretending to care and then walk out when it suited her. All of that has happened but the worst thing is that although it was my sister and her boyfriend Ben, who instigated the whole thing against my brother, because they changed their first statements, even though they had said one thing in the first statement, changed it to say it happened as my brother had said, on Thursday, exonerating Tony; they dropped my daughter in it,right it up to her neck. I read the statements, and although I was not party to the events leading up to this, my brother had told me what happened last year and as he had never ever lied to me, I believe him. The statements from Ben and Trisha were full of lies, in parts as I did know they did not happen. The judge must have seen them for what they were but could only act on what was presented on Thursday. Lisa now has to bear the brunt of everything. Don’t get me wrong, she obviously needs to be punished for her wrong doing but she does not deserve to be the only one and the others walk away laughing as I know they will. All 3 of them should have had to pay and only my daughter will. But I believe in Karma and if that doesn’t happen, I will take the steps I wanted to take back a couple of years, when Trisha lied to Harper Collins my publisher and lost me my contract. Although the publisher knew they were lying, her and Lisa, they were afraid of litigation and so I lost out. I put this right but my daughter knew how important my book was to me, the years of pain writing it and telling of my childhood abuse was one of the most difficult things I had ever done. My book helped so many. It broke my heart to lose it until I was able to have it republished. I will in time, take steps to make sure my sister pays in some way. Angry doesn’t get close.

So many emotions, so much feeling and confusion within my thoughts.

Ecstatic that a year ago surgery saved my wonderful husband’s life.

Sad at the loss of a pony.

Devastation still, on the loss of my brother and friend.

Happy and sad that Marie is coming back to live ‘here on the farm’.

Scared for Lisa and my grandchildren and more angry than I would have thought possible that Ben Spillet and Trisha-Anne Hopkins have walked away without being punished for the crime they committed, the worry and hurt they caused Tony and his family and for the pain they have caused me.

As the picture above says, happy and sad and confused as to how that can be.

Thankyou for reading. x

 

 

A great deal has happened, here ‘on the farm’, this past week and I wanted so much to share it with the other man in my life, Tony, my brother. But I can’t. I will never be able to talk to him again and I can’t come to terms with that. I am functioning on a level not familiar to me and coping as best I can. I have actually picked up the phone and almost pressed his number, before being brought back to the reality. Tony has gone forever. I can’t cry. I want to and need to but I can’t. So here I am pouring out my feelings in the only safe way I know. Bear with me please. There is a happy, many in fact but today the sad is so strong I can almost touch it.

Last week, saying goodbye, was the hardest of my adult life and impinged on my childhood. As a little girl, as I have said before, life for me was dark, sad and scary, Tony was my bright star in the dark world I called home. He did things for me that the woman they called my mother should have done. He bathed by cuts, cuddled me out of pain, taught me what happens to girls as we grew up.  Yes, it was my brother who ‘rescued me’ when I began menstruating and thought I was dying. Not my mother, Tony. He loved me when he was allowed. Me? I spoiled him and waited on his every need. Tony was my hero. Having to accept that he was gone was so painful and I nearly didn’t do it.

I wasn’t going to go to Hampshire to say my goodbye, not only because it would make it real but because of how I might have been received by family. The past few years I had lost a major part of Tony’s family because of the lies and stories told to them, by my eldest daughter Lisa and my youngest sister Trisha. They had lied and maligned by name and involved family members who knew no better of me. So going back, into the family so to speak, was with trepidation. I had made things right with Tony’s daughter and granddaughter but not sure how I would be received by the extended family. I felt no concern as to the truth, I know the reality of my life but also know how convincing these two women, my daughter and sister, can be in their lies. I just wanted the day to go off perfectly as did Tony’s daughter. We were both worried that these two people who had caused the last year of my brother’s life to be filled with hurt, worry, and betrayal, would be disrespectful enough to attend his final goodbye. Although I knew in my heart that cowards don’t face people, the thought was still there. As the day grew closer and we hadn’t booked anywhere to stay, I remembered the horrors of another funeral where I was told not to attend and how everyone was so hurt by this. I had told Tony I would be there, so ‘be there’ had to happen.

I had been kept up to date about arrangements and looked forward to meeting with my niece and her daughters who had looked after their Dad and ‘Ampy’ so well. I had been asked to contribute to the service with little anecdotes of my life with my brother. Some of this was taken from a blog I wrote on here ‘What Tony Meant to me’, little stories, funny things that we ‘got up to’ or rather he ‘got me into’ and they brought a smile to the tear-stained faces on the day. The journey to Hampshire was horrific, we drove through wind and torrential rain and I prayed the weather would be kind to us on the day. On arriving at the crematorium, I was pleased to see so many people attending. I greeted the hearse carrying the man I had loved all of my life and his close family, with silent hugs and genuine emotions were exchanged between us. The casket had a union Jack, Tony’s marine green berry and his medals. Seeing the casket rendered me almost broken, in bits, and I struggled to hold on. David supported me and we went in to say goodbye to my big bear, my hero, my brother.

The service was a Humanist service and was conducted by a lovely man called Andy. The first piece of music was something I had found a copy of years ago, for Tony ‘ Il Silenzio, a bugler  from the Royal Marines played it . It was heartbreakingly beautiful. Brought the tears for everyone. The Eulogy from his son Steven was full of love, honesty and some happy. A friend who Tony and I had known for years before they served together in the Royal Marines, another Steve, called Tony a Marine’s marine. I felt so proud. The room was filled with such huge sadness borne out of huge love for this man who man, who meant so many different things to everyone there. The friends and family were handed Red Roses showing love to place on the coffin, I had not known this was to happen and had taken a Yellow rose as a symbol of goodbye. One of our favourite country songs was 18 yellow roses came today. A story of parting of two people who loved each other. Along with everyone else, I placed my rose on the casket and placed a kiss for one of the best friends, anyone could have and felt privileged to be sharing this intimate time with those who loved him. Only out of great love can come such great sadness. The last post played by the Royal Marine made me catch my breath.

After the service I approached many of Tony’s family, my family, with slight reservations as to how I would be greeted but had no reason to have worried. I have been ashamed of how he was treated a year ago, ashamed and guilty that a child of mine could behave so appallingly to anyone, let alone her sick elderly uncle who was terminally ill. I carry that shame, not the guilt as none of it was down to me.  Steven his eldest son, hugged me and said how he loved me, had always loved me, just didn’t want any of the drama from my sisters and daughter, so hadn’t been in touch with me very much. We hugged for quite a while, as I cried my heart out, sharing our grief and smiling at our reunion. It felt good , huge and full of all the emotions I have held on to for a long time. I then introduced myself to other family who didn’t really know me but knew of me, I spoke with friends of theirs, Tony’s grandchildren and great-grandchildren each showed me nothing but love and shared sadness. In a strange way, it felt good. I was back in the fold so to speak, back in my family and the love between us all was evident. Now knowing that the lies they had been told, were just that, lies, they showed me nothing but love.

One person I recognized, even though I hadn’t seen him since he was around 7 years of age, now a grown man, was my nephew Matthew, Trisha’s son. I was very surprised at seeing him there as his mother had not been welcome, because of her actions last year, so seeing him was a big surprise. I knew him well when he was a child and saw him after she and Mick, her husband had split up but then lost touch. I recognized him because he is identical to his late dad, a bit fuller faced but no mistaking who his father was. We chatted for a while and then left for the wake.

Everyone from the service had arrived at the place chosen to celebrate Tony’s life and talk about him as a person, between those who loved him. Sharing our stories and our sadness. I had made little booklets for the family, telling of how I remembered Tony, taken from my blog with added photos. These were mine and Tony’s memories and so there was no one now who was able to pass these on. It was sad in a way, that I was the only sibling present. I had wanted June, our now eldest remaining sister to attend, even though she has shut me out of her life for the same reason others did last year, to be there to say goodbye as I feel she will regret not doing so but she had declined the offer. So there was only me. The grand-daughters, Tina’s girls, had set up a table with a back drop of photos of Tony and a table with  his glasses, pen, TV remote, cigarette and ashtray and his timetable of programs to watch. Like he was there. Everything he always had to hand. It was wonderful and horrible at the same time. I held his glasses to my cheek and again, the tears came. Matthew and his partner, came and sat with us and we chatted about his dad, I was able to tell him things he hadn’t known about Mick and said I would find out certain things he didn’t know and send them to him. I have done this since coming home.

It was the strangest of days, everyone so sad at losing a wonderful man and yet celebrating what he meant to them individually. For me, it was something that I had always wanted, my family back together, but not for such a horrid reason. I felt so much love in that room, that my heart that had been hurting for a very long time, on that day, surrounded by the love of family, the happy was returning. I thank my brother for yet again, making things right for me. Giving me back those I love.

For the past year I have felt pain, anger, helplessness and hurt for my big bear. I wanted him well, I wanted him to live forever, as he has always been there, always been my ally, friend, confidante and friend. A constant in my not so constant life. Our dysfunctional family rendered us adults in a broken family. But. Tony succeeded with his wife Lin, to make a great family and that showed on Friday, in abundance. His children all comforting each other along with his grandchildren and they in turn, comforting and showing their love for me. He would be so proud. He taught them love, tolerance, forgiveness and friendship. I have done that with my daughter Marie but failed as you know, with my eldest daughter who has hurt me and my family, betrayed my beloved brother, in ways incomprehensible to anyone else.

Today is a bad day. Yesterday we lost a beloved pony and in ways, not explainable on this blog, our lives have changed again. But we will get through, I will bounce back. Tony would want that. I remember telling him late last year, that I had wasted too much time on those who had and were causing me pain, that I had to try to get back to work. When he gave me his final diagnosis of a few weeks, I planned to put this on hold. ‘You can’t help me darlin” he said’ ‘so go and help those you can’. So that is what I must do. Back to work.

So the bad of course was losing my hero, having part of me taken away, and out of that came the good of regaining my family, in person. To give and receive hugs full of warmth and love. The sad was accepting that I won’t ever speak with him again or see his smile, hear his laugh. The happy was being able to be part of a family of whom I have grown very proud, Tony’s family. My family. I thank them all from the bottom of my heart.

I haven’t mentioned David, my rock. He loved Tony in his own way, they got along so well and shared as I did, the same humour. This past week he has been amazing, right by my side throughout. Comforted me when I was down and I know would have been there if anything or rather, anyone had tried to spoil this very important goodbye. He is always at my side as I am his and for that I will be eternally grateful.

As I said last blog, my world is different now. Emptier in one way, more full in another. So thank you my big bear for raising a family who can take me back and believe in me as they used to.

Loves you Tony.

Thankyou for reading x

 

This past week, mostly since losing my beloved brother and then again, after our last PSA test, I have been shown what being Family really means.

A family isn’t necessarily formed in the home where you grow up, hopefully for most, it is, but for some, this is not the place they find love and friendship and everything that should go with being related in birth. That would be a traditional family and I think many years ago, with maiden aunts, great aunts, grandparents etc. all living close to their family, this was how families were. Back then, people stayed within that unit and the geographical area, and the love and safety was valued. But as people moved away, with work etc. and people divorced and lost touch with one side of their birth family, things now,are very different. In mine and some others, being related to people who distance themselves from you out of choice, people who fall out with each other, this unit, the family, becomes blurred and sometimes nonexistent.

Coming on here on Friday evening, to share my husband’s PSA results and the joy and relief; what came back, the support I felt, gave me something precious. Showed me that I was part of something so much bigger than birth family. I have been shown support and encouragement from the day I joined the Prostate Cancer groups and Friday was no exception. In fact the love that shone through, with the many messages, comments and posts sent, showed me what the meaning of family is in reality. Thank you to everyone who shared our relief and joy. What you all show, by encouraging others, telling your stories, supporting those troubled is nothing short of love.

I felt a bit unsure of posting after hearing of some who are fighting this disease and whose results were still worrying but felt I wanted to post some good in all of the bad. Those who reach the Survivors club will always feel a bit of guilt, I know this through my work with clients but I also know, a person who posts good news can also encourage others who are at an earlier stage in this disease. I hope no one took offence.

Sharing my journey with like-minded people, has and hopefully will continue to be a help to those reading and definitely a help to me. We all share a common thread, this nasty disease. I have shared my anger, frustration, fear and everything I felt, on here, with my groups and yesterday shared my joy. Unselfishly, many not so fortunate, commented and I thank everyone who did. Everything I have received from members from all over the world, I should have had from family but haven’t ,apart from a tiny few. You have all shown the real meaning of family.

I have often heard terms used as a ‘family’, not really ‘getting it’ so to speak, but I do now. The family of a church, Facebook family, a sporting family, unrelated, who share the same interests at a close level. Families can form from any close group of people who share something they really care about, I know that now. Within my groups, people show respect, trust, support and love. Sometimes you can gain more from such groups than you can from the people with whom you grew up, especially if yours is not close or is dysfunctional like mine. Children who are adopted, take on their new family as their own, whilst hopefully one-day knowing their roots. We should all be capable of loving everyone because we are after all, part of the biggest family of all, human kind.

I grew up in a very strange home, a dysfunctional family where I was neither wanted, nor loved. Our Dad, a lovely gentle man who really wanted a quiet life, was an ex Royal Marine who loved his children and his very formidable wife. I won’t go into the details but he was not my birth father but never showed any ill will towards me, as my mother did, every day. They rowed, she was unfaithful and so it was no wonder our family life was fraught and fragile. We did have extended family and would go to them, if allowed, for advice or support. A great aunt Rose and my two Nan’s. But our main influence was the woman they called my mother. My only ally at home, was Tony, my brother. This continued for most of my life, we remained very close. I had a good relationship with my eldest sister Georgina, although I saw little of her because of distance and a close relationship, when an adult, with June my second sister. But as a family, I don’t remember a time when everyone was talking to everyone else. Most times this would have been because of a falling out, often courtesy of our Mother, others like mine and the youngest sibling, Trisha’s, for no reason at all. So not how families should be and that I wanted.

I have had a best friend since I was 6, still friends today, her Mum and Dad included me in family outings, parties etc. When this kind lady who asked me to call her Mum some years ago, bought my bestie, (her name is also Carol) a new dress, she would buy me one as well. She knew of my childhood, or most of it and so included me in hers. As we all grew older, I looked on her as Mum and Carol’s dad, who is still alive, as Dad. They loved me as their own, which proves my point in a way. This was my respite.

When I married, I vowed never to be like the woman I grew up with, but the opposite. I would show my children endless love and support in everything they did and made sure I did this. I had no role model but knew I wouldn’t be like her, wouldn’t ‘mother’ in the way she did or didn’t. In my little family, despite many changes, I kept my daughters safe, taught them right from wrong, shared happy times and the sad or the tough and was always there at their side, loving them. I pointed them in the right direction of life and then had to take a back seat as you do when they grow up. I thought my family was functional, loving, caring and enjoyed my daughters endless sharing of their love for me. I thought I had succeeded in making a good family. In the past years, I have been shown that with my youngest Marie, I have succeeded but not with her sister, Lisa. They were brought up the same, in honesty and love but have turned out so different from each other. So family does not always work, even if brought up in the same home, even when shown love and respect. I know that now. There is so much more to it.

As we grow up, we blame our upbringing, our parents, our family, for everything that’s wrong in our lives. I know I do in part. But as we reach adulthood, we need to take the responsibility on ourselves. Yes our childhoods can affect us but they can also influence us in a good way. My childhood, my family experience was negative but I strive every day to make a positive impact on others. I did this throughout my children’s lives, if I failed, it wasn’t for want of trying. As a mum, my family, the one I made was everything to me. Yes my health was bad at times, yes there were many changes as I said and yes I made mistakes but we were family and that is how it should have stayed. The good times we had, are locked as memories in my heart, forever. I loved my girls the same, taught them the same, respect, loyalty, compassion. Marie has blossomed into a beautiful caring honest respectful adult of whom I am very proud. Lisa has not. I realise now that this happens in families, that it is not my fault and so don’t beat myself up about it anymore.

Today I should have grandchildren to retell stories of their mum’s life, tell them of their dad. Stories of their and aunts and uncle, but I don’t. I should have Christmas’s with family all around but I don’t. I have my lovely youngest daughter and her family but my grandchildren have had their minds contaminated by lies and stories that are so far from the truth, if it wasn’t so sad it would be laughable. Real families don’t do this to each other. So families you are born into or those you make yourselves can fall short at times where gained groups, stay loyal to who you really are, now, today.

So back to what I said earlier. This past few weeks, I have seen how strong a real family can be. I am so proud of my brother Tony’s family. He and Lin have done a great job with their children, especially their daughters. They have been there for each other, helping comforting, supporting each other and supporting me. They have shown great maturity, great strength, great love and he would be so proud. In this time of pain and loss, they have shown me love and included me in the family that I had been excluded from, for that I am so grateful. The love they show each other is how a real family should be. My niece Tina has been an amazing mum and Nan and this shows in how her family has rallied around as they did before Tony died. During Tony’s last days, she made it possible for me to talk to him when he was able. Her eldest daughter Sophie, is like her Mum and has kept me informed as much as possible. A wonderful granddaughter to Tony. No nastiness, no dislike or arguing amongst them. Just pure family love. I am proud to be back part of this lovely family.

So these past few weeks, grieving for Tony and all he was to me, relief in David’s results, have been hard and painful with the latter giving respite of a good and happy. I have put behind me the nasty comment and returned letter from my sister June, knowing she was put up to it. I have had bigger things to occupy my time. Writing this has made me think that perhaps as people in general, we need to understand each other, maybe go back to how families were, how they should be, what they used to be, loving, supportive, and loyal. Back to having respect for those around us and appreciative of them and show love and be grateful for their part in our lives. But the main thing I have learned, the big switch of the light so to speak, is that family don’t need to be blood. Sharing a common interest or goal, sharing a similar journey whether painful or joyful, is what can make us a real family. As good as, or in my case, better than, the family we were born into. So I want to say thank you to everyone in the groups I belong to, and the family that is Social media, for including me in their ‘family’, even though none of us would have chosen to be part of if we had a choice. PC has brought wonderful supportive people into my life mostly down to this horrid disease. So I say thank you to all of you. I would also like to thank friends with whom I have shared friendships for many many years, who are as close as family to me.

This coming week will be so hard. But the good is that it will see me back in the midst of my family, Tony’s family, where I know I will be welcome and loved. Saying goodbye will be so hard. I am not sure how well I will cope but David will be at my side. It will be a sad difficult day for his children and grandchildren and my heart goes out to them. He was so loved and we will say our good byes together. I will be both humbled and proud to be part of this great family that Tony and Lin created, a real family in every sense of the word. I now feel we are almost back to where we used to be, closer than we have been over the past few years. It is something Tony wanted and I have wanted since forever. Saying goodbye to my big bear, my brother at least I know I won’t be alone.

Thank you for reading. x

I became angry today, listening to the news. Three young men killed whilst waiting for a bus to go to a party. Innocent lives cut short by some one driving dangerously. I don’t know all of the facts but everyone knows that driving is serious business and in the wrong hands, a car can become a lethal weapon. This happened last night. I also heard of a suicide bomber, killing almost a hundred innocent people in Kabul. Killings in Pakistan, Istanbul and so the list goes on. I don’t see suicide bombers as martyrs or heroes, I see them as someone who has no respect for the life they have been given and the lives they steal. A few days ago, someone was ‘lost’ whilst mountaineering with out taking account of the weather warnings. This reminded me of rescuers who have died trying to reach or save such thoughtless people. Killings, murders, terrorism. Children murdered in their own homes by family or friends. Endless stories of loss of life that didn’t need to happen. No respect for this precious thing we have been given. The gift we all have and sometimes take for granted. The gift of Life. Where is the respect for all life gone?

I see this lack of respect in the work I do with animals. In my role as Inspector for a Horse charity, a member of Cat Protection, too much pain inflicted on animals and sometimes loss of precious lives. Only yesterday on social media, I saw a picture of a very scared little dog, the look in her eyes is haunting me. She had been thrown from a moving car. Thankfully she is now safe but will have to recover from this horrid ordeal. Whatever goes on in the head of someone who could do this.

This week we had David’s latest PSA result and thankfully it was undetectable. So relieved and happy but I know for some on my groups, their news is far from good. We don’t take anything for granted though. We will still be vigilant. We, the world I mean, need to talk about Prostate Cancer because it is still very ignorant. People will often say, ‘Oh that’s the good cancer’, or ‘you may die with it but you won’t die from it’. Really?? The latest statistics in the UK, 2014, were that there were 47,151 new cases and 11,287 deaths. So you can’t die from it? People need to be aware that if caught early enough, men will survive. Yes life may be different but this precious thing called life will still be theirs. In my case, we fought and won the battle and hope to win the war. Some say it is not a fight. I disagree. It’s a fight. Not only for the person who has the disease but for those caring and loving them. A fight to stay strong. A fight to support. A fight to survive treatment and sometimes, after all of this, a fight to just ‘be’. For me it was a battle like no other and I have had many battles to fight over the years.

Years ago, I watched my young sister-in-law, Tony’s first wife, fight to live. She had cancer during her pregnancy with her first son and they operated and removed it.It then returned after her 2nd son. She sadly lost this fight. Broke my heart. She was 26 years old. A battle lost.

I know how my friend’s husband fought and lost his fight against this evil disease.

Then around 5 years ago, my friend and confidante Mo, fought so bravely against her illness. A kind, funny, loving lady whom everyone who knew her, loved . She never complained, never moaned and always managed to have a laugh, even up unto the end. A battle lost.And what a battle she fought.

Now , this past year I watched my beloved Tony, my brother fight the hardest fight of his life. His family at his side, fought with everything he, they and I had to keep him with us. On January 4th, this  year that battle was lost. Tony died. My heart broke.

So yes, cancer is a fight.

I felt in the middle of a battle, throughout David having PC. The waiting, the scans, biopsies etc. Then the surgery. David was as always very pragmatic and was amazing. This was a battle he was determined to win. Me, I felt battle worn long before we could breath and relax. There is some respite for a short time, between PSA tests. I believe we have conquered this evil cancer with a little ‘c’ and my battle now is to hold on. To banish the words ‘what if’ from my vocabulary and live. But I will always have the armour to hand, just in case. Throughout all of this time, this past year, I was on the periphery of my brother’s family but right there in spirit and Tony knew that. I wanted to attack the nasty that was stealing my big bear from me and those who loved him. The helplessness was overwhelming. We often talked, my brother and I, of how hard he felt it being so reliant on others. I reassured him that they didn’t mind, that they loved him and he knew this. I couldn’t be there at his side but he knew I was always at the end of the phone and that I loved him. My battle at that time was with myself, illness here ‘on the farm’, responsibility here kept me from visiting very much. I would always have fought alongside him as he would have me, in any fight. But sometimes as in this, I felt helpless and that made the battle even harder. The other demons facing him this past year just made his life that much harder and for that I will always be angry with those who betrayed him at this horrid time.That fight will be ongoing for me.

Life is precious  and we should live it, make the most of it and value and rspect it.Sadly some waste it. Spend it risking it, abusing it. Some spend huge amounts of time, their lives, hurting others, causing trouble, breaking the law, killing. Disrespecting the life of those they hurt or kill. Some spend too much of their lives worrying, I know I do, about things they have no control over. Wasting their life on those who don’t deserve time spent on them, instead of cherishing this very thing. Life itself. What a waste of time, a waste of life.

I will always fight battles for those I love, stand by them when they are ill or in trouble. I will love and support and fight for my husband in any way that I can and value the life we have. I will fight right by his side whatever PC or anything else has to throw at us, we will always fight together.Whatever the battle. I may sometimes get it wrong. Sometimes people may not approve of how I fight. Bearing my soul on here, but I know it is part of me, part of how I am, standing up and fighting, something I have had to do over and over, throughout my life and will continue to do when needed. Writing my blog, bearing my soul, keeps me sane, keeps me from losing it at times I need to be strong. I find writing my blog therapeutic and a way of offloading. Selfish? Maybe but with due respect,people don’t have to read it, do they.

I began todays blog talking about how easy some find it to kill and maim others. How the lack of respect for the lives of others,astounds me. The lack respect for life itself. Yes, I am angry at how futile killing is and angry that some people throw others live’s away at a whim. Through thoughtlessness, or on purpose. How life is not valued like it should be. Whilst these horrendous acts are being perpetrated, people like Tony, like group members, anyone who has a terminal disease, is fighting literally for their lives. It makes me ashamed and it makes me sad.

I have wasted a great deal of time, of my life these past years, on people who shouldn’t even warrant a thought in my head. Those who have hurt and betrayed me and my family. They know who they are. No more. If I have battles to fight, they will be worthy ones and I will, I hope win some. A battle they began, against me, will be won and I will see Karma.

I admire Tony, Mo and others who are fighting disease and illnesses and will offer my support in the future if it is needed. To those who say PC is not a battle, I say, for me, it is and I am sure for others. A battle we willingly fight alongside our partners but obviously wish the fight had never begun.

Until the world learns respect for the little things, brings its children up to respect others, to respect their families and to respect life itself,sadly  nothing will change. The world will remain broken.

Since beginning this blog around 18 months ago and reading the amazing stories of strength, faith and courage, reading of the battles people fight to survive, especially members of the PC groups I am part of,I have gained a new respect for them and for life itself.

Thankyou for reading x

 

 

 

Life for me has been like living in a fog, for a long time now. Not able to see the view, the way forward or even the way back. A fog of fear, pain, worry and now grief. But I know that one day the fog will lift. Life will be clearer and I will find my way. The fog in my case has been around for 4 plus years and as you may have read in previous blogs, often I have lost my way. I write as I feel and sometimes my words are muddled, emotional, deep and show everything I feel. Sometimes too many emotions come spilling out of me all at the same time. This I apologise for. But not for my truth, my depth of feeling, I can’t say sorry for that. Fog can confuse you, disorientate and often scare you. It can interfere with your thought process and lead you on the wrong path. That I am sorry for.

One year ago today. I learned of the betrayal of my daughter Lisa,to my brother and was horrified and sickened. I found it hard to believe but she has since shown me that I should have known the extent of her deceit but I hadn’t wanted to believe it. These past two weeks I have felt grief like I have never known before. Tony’s death has left me feeling as though part of me has died. It has made me selfish with my time, selfish with my emotions. Grief does that. Is it self-indulgent? Yes I suppose it is but I have, today, come to understand the depth of this grief is an accumulation of things gone before. All the emotions of the past years have caught up with me and at times are difficult to handle.

Last weeks blog showed my feelings, and also anticipatory grief. Fear of the next few weeks, PSA’ test , waiting for the results. Letting  the ‘what ifs’ have a field day. Ellie’s cancer and the future, losing her, looms every day. Grief for those I have loved and lost for a variety of reasons. Grief for our life before PC. Yes, it is different and yes, I am grieving for the ‘normal’ we used to have. Tony’s death has brought me to have to face things I don’t want to face. Saying goodbye. Brought back past goodbyes and left me anticipating future goodbyes. Rendering me very low.

Grieving for those still living has been going on for a while, I realise that and it is futile and undeserved. I will no longer grieve them. They chose to leave and I have accepted that.

Grieving for life as it was. Before September 2 years ago, I had never heard of Prostate Cancer. I wish I was still as ignorant. It blew my life apart and left my husband having to go through surgery and the constant worry over each and every blood test. His last two were fine and I pray this one will be too. I have no reason to think differently but of course, I do. Yes, ‘what ifs’ once again.

The ‘c’ word will possibly always do this to all of us, worry us I mean, but I didn’t think about it until David was diagnosed. I need to work on my ‘now’ as I teach clients. Today and only today. Yesterday is gone and tomorrow is not here yet, so focus on today. Sounds easy doesn’t it. Well it isn’t.

The selfishness of my own grief is evident in everything I do. My love for Tony was huge and constant and my grief  is in danger of becoming the same. It is raw and real and understandable. Yes it makes me selfish.Yes I am hurting and yes I am angry. This anger is so much more because of the worry and hurt inflicted on him in his last months by my daughter and our sister. Unforgivable and avoidable. They had the chance to make things right and refused his wish. Cruel and undeserved.

Along with this grief is how all of this affected me at a time I needed to be present in my own home, for those I love. I was absent emotionally for a long time. Anger is a huge part of the fog that surrounds me. Anger of late,at the cruelty directed at me since Tony’s death but it now has little effect. Those throwing hurt my way are helping to lift the fog of emotions and for that I am grateful.

My past blogs have told of each and every emotions I have felt, I have spoken, even shouted them, here on this page. Doing this is a kind of self therapy, a way of offloading, expressing my feelings and releasing this anger and pain. Again , self-indulgent but helpful to me. Anger at PC is one of the fiercest angers I have ever felt. It came blustering into our lives and we weren’t ready. Would we ever have been ready? Of course not. As I have written before, PC is a couple’s cancer. Yes our men have the physical disease and treatment but we as wives and partners, share their pain, their fears and their own anger. Hating cancer with a little ‘c’ has become a life long emotion for me and I am sure for others.

So these are all particles of my emotional fog. Each one making it thicker than before and I sometimes can’t find my way out and am not sure how I actually feel about being in it.

The Written Word.

As  literary horder, I keep everything written to me, about  me and by me. Always have done. My way of looking back and trying to make sense of nonsensical things. I vowed at the beginning of this blog 2 years ago, to ‘tell it s as it’. Honest to the core. Sometimes hard to read and sometimes muddled and raw. I will continue to do this.

The F word is present most of the time, the main substance of my fog. This week we may know the results of Davids latest PSA. The waiting is horrid. I have tried ,as I said last week, not to go onto my PC groups because I don’t want to read the sad posts, the men who are suffering, relapsing, dying from this evil disease. I need to keep myself together, just in case. As I said at the beginning, with the grief still so raw, yes I am being selfish.

PC has brought back symptoms of PTSD which I have spoken about before in earlier blogs. I find myself ruminating over the past, David diagnosis, his surgery etc. Tony’s illness, my sister and best friends cancers. All very unhelpful and all making the fog thicker.

A few years before the nasties started with my daughter and sister Trisha, I was involved in a nasty cruel internet hoax that stole 6 months of my life. It ended in a court case and punishment for the perpetrator. It also left me with nightmares and panicky feelings. These lessened for a while but lately come back on occasions. Again, leaving the fog long after I have woken up. I would wake up and for a spilt second all was okay and then reality set in and the fear had a field day. When David was first diagnosed with PC, I would not sleep well but if I did, I would wake and he was beside me, fleetingly all was well, but then, like a thud, cancer was in my head and the fear began all over again. These past few weeks, since Tony’s death, I awake and again for  a spilt second everything is okay, then it hits me. Tony is no longer here. I know that to lift some of the fog of emotions I need to cry, I will in time. Living in a world without him seems impossible, but I know I must and I will.

There is only so much loss and fear the human mind can take at one time, without it adversely affecting a person’s health. Many times in the past years, I have felt close to breaking. I reached this point many times over and over hearing the horrendous lies and stories told by these two relatives of mine, being spread to anyone who would listen. This constant attack has left me wanting and fuelling the fog I find myself in at times.

So these next few weeks will be extra hard. Losing my ‘big bear’ has brought sadness that I had not envisaged. Pain that is physical and left me without siblings. We were so close and I am missing him so much already. I still can’t quite take it in, I still go to ring him or say, ‘must tell Tony that’.

To lift the fog, I need to cleanse the parts of my life that give me the anger, the hurt , the pain and the grief. Normal grief is okay and will take time to heal and that will happen, I just need to be patient. I need to look at positives, David ‘s facial surgery has been done as far as we know the cancer has all gone. I am working on my anger towards my sister and my daughter, yes I blame Trisha for how my daughter is today. But she is a grown woman and was taught right from wrong, parents can only point children in the right direction. It is up to the child especially, when an adult, to choose the right path to follow. Not my responsibility.

Today we have been discussing the future with Marie and her husband,and that is where my healing will begin. I am starting to see a future, a new beginning and that will help the fog lift. After I have said a goodbye to my beloved brother, the healing of the grief will begin and maybe, my emotions will calm down and I will allow myself to cry. Again this will help lift the fog. I tell clients that grief  will take as long as it takes, don’t try to force it, don’t deny it. Good advice. I will be okay. Soon I will see the road ahead more clearly. I will always miss Tony. I will hurt for a very long time, I know that  but have so many happy memories to help me through. I will always worry about PC returning but the secret is, focus on today for that is all we have for now.

See, the fog is already getting thinner.

Thankyou for reading. x