Publish and Be Damned!

One year ago. Thankyou everyone who bought my book. x

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7 years ago, I found the courage and strength to tell my story. One of the first Child Sexual Abuse stories told. With the support of my husband, my two daughters and two people who played significant parts in my life, I wrote I DID TELL I DID.

It was, until that time in my life, the hardest thing I had ever done. All authors of their own true stories know, that going back over their past is painful. To revisit the horrors, the memories, the abuse and fear was a journey I found almost at times, impossible. The only way I could do this was to get up in the night, go to my study and write whilst the family was asleep.

I had boxed things up so tightly, that at times, it felt too hard to force  off the lids to face the horrors that were inside the aged…

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The ‘F’ Word, Back By Association

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I didn’t write last week, I was too upset and feeling very low. Cancer of any kind sucks! I hate hate hate cancer with a little ‘c’. In all its guises, whoever it affects it brings fear, hurt and anger. Not emotions any of us want or need. These past few years, I have had, loss after loss. Pain and hurt after pain and hurt. I know it sounds self-pitying and do you know what, I don’t care. I do feel sorry for me, for us, especially my husband David. Self pity is not a good quality but that’s how I feel and not sure how much more we ‘here on the farm’ can take. I promised when I began this blog, to be open and honest. So this is me doing just that.

I know a lot of what I write on here is not about Prostate cancer but it is my journey and the cancer that hit my husband with no warning, as with everyone else affected, doesn’t come in isolation.My journey encompasses every part of my life and becomes entwined with my every day life. Anyone reading this who has a loved one with PC will understand where I am coming from. I have said before, cancer doesn’t think, ‘oh that person has such a lot going on their lives, they won’t cope with me’. No. It hits us, bursts into our lives uninvited and tramples over every aspect of our being and that of our families. It is cruel, fierce and leaves debris within its path. Even if we beat it, we will never really be the same. Life will never be the same.Sometimes this is a good thing but in the early days, it can be devastating. The fear we had at the beginning, with diagnosis, is never far away. We may hide it well, life might get better but it only takes  a split second for the fear to come back and the ‘what ifs’ to be present again.

If like me, your partner or husband has had the all clear,( at least for now), the fear that you had in the beginning might return at the very word cancer. Or is this just me? The long-term effect, at least for me, of having had my world turned on its head with David’s diagnosis, is that the fear I suffered as a child, returned and hit me hard. Now, after David having the all clear, I thought it had gone but it takes very little to bring it back. Just a word or a worry about a pain, or an ache and I am back there terrified. Hearing of someone else either in the group or someone we know, having cancer is enough to take me straight back to last year and I am in bits. This week brought every ounce of trepidation and I have not been good I am ashamed to say.

For those who know me, you will know how much my animals mean to me. My horses and ponies, dogs and cats. I suppose as I don’t have family apart from my youngest daughter and my beloved husband; the dogs and cat especially are my family and are treated as such. Back in January my little dog Ellie Mae had cancer and had surgery. We were told to be vigilant and that it may have spread. 2 weeks ago I noticed a little lump and we made an appointment to see the vet. The outcome was to take her last Tuesday to have the lump taken out, after investigating whether a scan showed any spread. The scan and blood tests were clear so we gave the go ahead for surgery. Then things didn’t go according to plan, I had a phone call saying that as everything was clear the vet gave Ellie a pre med and began to anesthetize her and her heart stopped and she stopped breathing. It was touch and go but they got her back. The operation was abandoned but they had found another lump and so they say it has metastasized. Now I know some might say ‘she is only a dog’ and if you do then that’s okay. To you maybe but to me, she has been my constant, her, Cody and Luther have been at my side all the time. Licked my tears when I have cried, sat by me when I needed company and loved me through the bad times of the past few years. So, to you I say, she is family and I almost lost her.

A consequence of this was the association of the word cancer. Fear was back bigtime! But for me it brought back the ‘what ifs’. What if David ‘s cancer comes back? What if it then metastasized? What if he isn’t safe yet? What if Cody or Luther die? What if! What if!  What if!!!Just as the ‘what ifs’ had subsided, here they were again, like a slap in the face!

I try to be strong, honest I do. I try to stay positive, not let fear run away with me. Even though I try to be hard, so that nothing can touch me, I fail. I can’t stop illness and cancer with a little ‘c’ that seems to follow us around. Ellie is only just 9 years old we have had all of our dogs longer than this. Cody is 12 and Luther is 15 so that worries me now. The thought of losing any of them is so scary and I am not ready for this. Not yet. Not ever is I am really honest.

What PC has brought me, is the fear that life will never be the same again and I want it to be. I am worried all the time. Not able to enjoy this new life we have, post surgery. A life that is different but we still have each other. But the constant worry spoils everything now.

The thing I have not been able to talk about on here but that I referred to, that had given me so much sadness, has been resolved I am so glad to say. Because of things that happened over the past years, plus David having PC and my own ill-health, I let some things slide. I didn’t see this coming and it spun out of control and perspective. Last week I had reason to take a long hard look at things, including myself. For many years I have blamed myself for family estrangements, that of my eldest daughter and consequently the rest of my birth family. I had promised my eldest sister that I would try to make things right within my family and I failed. Leaving me feeling guilty and sad. I had tried, to bring the family back together but no one wanted to know, so I have had to leave it as it is. Although I don’t know the reason for this I can’t afford to spend any more time regretting or trying to mend the broken if others are not willing to look at how it has been for me. More recently I have been made ashamed to be the mum of my eldest daughter and blamed myself for her appalling lies and dishonest behavior, on allowing her over the years, to get away with far too much. But as a mum that’s what you do, isn’t it. But I was reminded yesterday by someone who knows us both that she is an adult and is responsible for herself. Not me. As a mum I just assumed that responsibility and now resolve myself of it. I have to.

The other thing I realised this week, is something I had lost sight of. Something I teach clients; that good communication of the right kind is imperative. Almost every problem , including world issues, get out of control through lack of communication. Being so bogged down in my own fears these past years, I lost the ability to do this, except on here. What I realise now is that the people I have needed to communicate with, don’t read my blog. Lesson learned.

Before Ellie’s diagnosis I had begun to see the beauty of this beautiful place we call home, see it again as I did before David having cancer. Beginning to feel safe in my life again, after the nasties of the past few years. Safe with my beloved husband, ponies and dogs and cats. Maybe, again, I became complacent.

What do I want? I want life before cancer. Life without the very word in it. I want my life as it was before I became this scared, hurt and angry person who I don’t sometimes recognize. I just want my life back.

We have begun to talk seriously about downsizing. Letting Marie take the ponies, keep them as ours but let her take them now she has her own yard. Lessening the workload but seeing them as often as we like.Buy a smaller more manageable home, near to her and our ponies closer to amenities , somewhere less secluded. Maybe right on the coast.

Do I want to do this? No. I love the wide openness of ‘the farm’. The wonderful huge skies full of the beauty of unpolluted skies full of beautiful stars. I love my river and the lakes full of wildlife and I love having a huge beautiful garden.  I love the beautiful amazing views from every window of open countryside that changes with the seasons.Looking out each morning and seeing my beloved ponies grazing close to the house, a field full of wild flowers and another full of ducks is amazing. So why move? After the past year from hell I have seen how much there is to do here. The things I took for granted because David did them all. I hope and pray he stays clear of cancer but this year and the previous years ,courtesy of family stuff, have taken their toll on us both. We are both getting older and I fear it is too much for my wonderful man. Has he said that? No. He wouldn’t. But I can see it myself. Although I have said I love all we have here, I love my husband more.

I know it has been hard and sometimes during this journey none of us asked to make, I have come close to breaking point. Today I felt I couldn’t cope with any more pain and hurt but I know I will. Sometimes in my work, when a client is going through some unbearable issue in their life, I ask if they have ever felt that way before. Many say yes and then tell me of an horrendous time they endured and came though. I then say that what is happening now in their lives has no comparison and they realise they will survive.

For me, my childhood and young adult life was horrendous but I survived. The past few years have been horrendous, even before David being ill and I survived. So, I will survive today.

I also now acknowledge that the only person who can give me anywhere near the life I had before cancer, is looking right back at me when I look in the mirror. We are not out of the woods yet. We will have awful decisions to make quite soon re Ellie Mae and I know that although I can’t bear to think about it, I will never let her suffer. We will take care of her, spoil her and most of all ,love her. She is well at the moment, playing and eating but slowing down. As is Cody. Sleeping more, not as eager to go for walks. We will play it by ear as we have always done. I just reacted this time because of where I am emotionally. As I have said on here far too often, I will bounce back as soon as I have found Carol Ann again. I know she is there somewhere. Then life will get better, maybe not the same as before the dreaded ‘c’ but better than now. 

Thank you for reading x

 

 

 

 

 

After The Storm, Still Looking For The Calm.

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This past year, the worst in my adult life, has been or should have been a wake up call. I was already in a bad place when it all happened, David having cancer and my world being turned on its head. Losing people I loved and the onslaught by people in my family, so was not well emotionally. Along with the cancer with a little ‘c’, there has been a huge painful situation here for us all that I can’t talk about because it is really some else’s story. This added to the pain and hurt I was already feeling, scared of what was happening and of the future; I felt alone with in constant fear. But now, that being slightly better and David recovering well, I thought I would be wanting to live life to the full. The cancer gave us a much-needed wake up call and we should be enjoying things and living for every day.

After a storm, there is usually a calm period, sometimes a rainbow. I am still looking for both of those. I read of others on here, having had a close encounter with death so to speak, making bucket lists. Doing all the things they always wanted to do. Making the most of every single day. Like being given a second chance. But for me, I don’t think that is possible. At least, not yet. I am so tired, exhausted and drained from the past few years that I seem to have lost my get up and go. My zest for life. My ability to enjoy. I am still looking for the worry button so that I can switch it off. I suppose I thought that after surgery, after David’s first PSA we would both feel exhilarated and wanting to get on with our lives.  But if our minds go into depression, if they succumb to years of loss and fear, they cannot just switch back even though they desperately want to . Anxiety, breeds depression and that becomes the ‘norm’. Until you can find a way of having a new ‘norm’, living life is just something you struggle to do. That is where I find myself today.

It doesn’t just stop. After surgery, after the first undetectable PSA, the fear and worry, at least for me, doesn’t and hasn’t just stopped. It is like after any loss, you can hold it for a while, pretend and not think about  it but it is still there. Fear of the ‘what ifs’, constant reminders of life now being different. The physical tangible reminders in the bathroom. The need to plan journeys in a way we never had to . And then a letter arrives for an appointment for my man, a hospital appointment and the fear is back big time. The fear is there, the pain is there and the hurt is back. Fear along with the ‘what ifs,’ what if the cancer comes back? What if something else happens how will we cope? The hurt is for what my family have put my husband through, by causing me such anguish, at a time he needed every ounce of strength to fight. The pain is all of the above. These memories haven’t gone, I wish they had, but they haven’t and so the emotions I have written about over the past year are still very much evident in my daily life. Mostly the fear. So, no it doesn’t just stop.

Because this has all made me ill, I have succumbed to seeing a therapist. If any of the losses, the changes, the fears had happened on their own, I would have coped. I have always coped but these all came in quick succession over a few years. So I have to give myself the time to grieve, to get myself together and not feel bad about it. I have spoken before about how cancer doesn’t care when it strikes. Neither do other worries, other people causing those worries. None care about where you are emotionally they just happen! Storm into your life and trample all over your emotions.

I wake up in the night again now, this stopped for a little while but is happening again. The thought that I could have lost my husband, my rock was sometimes more than I could bear. More recently, the sadness of the a painful situation I have no power to help with,  has caused a great deal of worry for us both, although David being pragmatic, seems able to make sure it doesn’t affect him and tries to support me. I wish I was more like him. The pain and loss of family and my best friend. Loss of a grandchild I will never know and my grandsons along with my eldest daughter. The loss of my eldest sister and the baby who didn’t survive, my precious grandchild. Lots of losses that came in quick succession and didn’t give me a chance to grieve for any of them. 2012, the year I lost my wonderful horse, my confidante and friend began a nightmare that lasted in different ways for the following 5 years and doesn’t seem to want to leave me. At times during this period I wasn’t sure I would pull through. The huge sadness I feel for  lost times, lost people, lost years;  especially this past year for the sadness and hurt inflicted on us both, at a time we needed to be strong for each other, sometimes almost overcomes me. I have told of David holding me while I cried myself to sleep before his cancer diagnosis because of the family stuff. and being so strong I felt ashamed. I don’t think I was there when he needed me. He says I was there for him, when I say sorry for not being, he says I have been strong and that he couldn’t have got through it without me, my love and my support. I didn’t feel as though I was strong, or supporting him , I didn’t feel that at all.

Another thing this past year has brought back are the nightmares that plagued me as a child. Different of course but still as strong and as scary. As I have written before about my beloved brother Tony having a terminal illness. Lung cancer and every time the phone rings now, I dread answering ; another ‘just in case’. I speak with him at least twice a week and yesterdays call was warm and funny and we both laughed a lot, it was good. But in the middle of last night I had the strangest dream about him that left me very disturbed and upset today. Not about him dying but it was scary and muddled. Tony and I , out of all of the family, were the closest as children and we have a special bond, a special  sibling love and I am lucky to have his. But another cause of my emotional state at this time is losing him, my one constant since childhood.

I have been told to write a storyline of losses, right back to childhood. Not doing that, it would be too depressing. My blogging, something I encourage clients to do, write their thoughts  down, is a way of my processing my thoughts. I will continue to do this on here, if you don’t mind. But I am looking at the losses above and also the losses of the life we used to have before PC. came thundering into our lives uninvited. There is a lot of unresolved grief, I know that, grief  that I am internalizing and that is making me ill and keeping me locked in this depressive place

Life is different now. Before 2012, David and I had enjoyed around 26 almost perfect years and life had been good and kind to us. Perhaps I became complacent and allowed  life to disturb that, I don’t know. So it has thrown us a few curve balls as it does others I am sure. The pain , fear and sadness has not gone but maybe I need to be a bit kinder to myself and give  it time. Perhaps other partners of men with PC have this problem, life not returning to a place they had hoped and wanted it to return to. Maybe I am just too impatient and expecting too much of myself and the situation. I don’t know. Maybe I am just not ready for the new ‘norm’ whatever it might be. What I do know is, deep down Carol Ann is still there. I just need to search and find her.

So life is different and I need to work on that new ‘norm’ but who says it can’t be as good as the previous one? No one. So I need to find me, find some peace and let go of my grief for things lost and people lost and look ahead. Not there yet but working on it.

Thankyou for reading x

For Those In Need Of Love Today

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What can we do?

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

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

Thankyou for reading. xx

 

Grieving For The Living. A Painful Necessity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just sayin’ 

Thankyou for reading.x

 

 

 

The Thief and Vandal That is PC.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thankyou for reading x

 

Last Week and The Need To Say Sorry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I hope you too, can allow me this blog.

Thankyou for reading.x

 

The Sad I Can’t Talk About and Need to Feel Angry Again.

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One year ago, I had been in the throes of rescuing my writing career and had found a new publisher of my autobiography after ‘family’ had done their best to have it removed from the market. Nothing to do with the story or contents, but just to cause me hurt and pain. The book had been very successful and had been in circulation and still selling for 7 years at this point.With my husband’s support and that of many hundreds of readers, the book was, at this time last year, in the process of being published again as a second edition, with the reasons for this, at the back of the new version. All of this was a horrible culmination of a few year of nastiness, inflicted on me by my daughter Lisa Pond and her aunt Trisha Anne Hopkins. It was a horrible time and caused me a great deal of pain. As this vendetta had been going on for 3 years, it had made me ill. My daughter then involved members of my family, people who were distant relatives in as much as they didn’t know me from Adam, all of whom spread the lies she fed them. This obviously hurt me a great deal.

At this time, David’s PSA was increasing and he was having repeat tests and so the dreaded ‘c’ word was looming over us like a black cloud. I tried not to worry ,as he had no symptoms and was fit and active and very well. Cancer had different ideas.

Because of the ongoing family stuff I lost contact with my grandchildren who had been fed lies about me and I was unable to give my side of the story. However,I continued to have contact with my eldest grandson for a long time and did not discuss his mother or the things that were going on, as I didn’t want to involve him. But suddenly the contact ceased. I have written since but I know his mother reads his mail and his phone so he may not have received my messages. I miss him, I miss her and I miss my family as they were. Times like the ones, we, ‘here on the farm’ have gone though, family should be part of our comfort and strength. But they never have been so why am I constantly wishing they were?

So this time last year, I was at an all time low, very physically and emotionally drained and worn out. I couldn’t find the worry button and my life was scary, cruel and lonely, except for those here with me.

Why am I re telling you this?  It is because it has all caught up with me. It is because cancer is not selective. It doesn’t judge whether you have other things going on in your life. It doesn’t choose those it feels can cope with it. It doesn’t only hit those whose lives are going well. It doesn’t consider any of this. Prostate cancer , the cancer with a ‘little ‘c’ just happens. At its will. Knocking you when you are down giving no consideration to your limits or anything else. It hits the man in your life but it hits you as well. It barges into your life uncaring about the battles you are already fighting. Not concerned about how low you might be, whether you are capable of with standing its onslaught. To me , it was like all the nasties, already invading my life, stealing my peace, just as selfish, just as cruel and non discriminatory. I was already down to rock bottom,how much further did it think it could push me!

But push me it did as you can read in previous blogs.

Today is a bad day. Cancer hit me at a the worst time ever, if there is anything but a worse time for this cruel disease. It didn’t give a thought to where I was. Or did it? It has been a horrible 3 years but this past one the worst. I am so lucky that David is doing incredibly well and he is so positive and for that I am forever grateful. He is upbeat and forward-looking as am I most of the time. But not today. This past year has taken an even more severe toll on me than I had realised until this past day or so.

There is another sadness now in my life, one too big to talk about. A sadness that has left me broken . I was already bruised and battle-scarred from family stuff but now am like a broken china doll and not sure how to be fixed. I know that if the vendetta against me hadn’t rendered me so low, I would have dealt with cancer with a little ‘c’ better. But it had been eating away at me, stealing from me, my reputation, my career and my peace of mind.  I had lost so much, just for being honest and now am missing those who shut me out. I know what I did was right but sometimes the price we pay for being honest is way to high. I don’t know which famous person said ‘honesty is over rated’, but today I think they were right.

In another blog, I likened David having PC and having a Robotic op; as having a bad apple in a fruit bowl. If you remove the bad apple, the other fruit will be okay. This has been done and my husband is thankfully cancer free, no damage to any other part of him. But what has it done to me?

It was like my bad apple had already contaminated the rest of the fruit in the bowl. It was all bad. It is like I already had a really nasty, raw, wound, that was weeping and spreading. Every time I was bullied, maligned, lied about by family,the infected place got  bigger and more contaminated.

And then, along came cancer pushing and pulling at the wound and opening it up to reveal the contaminated flesh and leaving it open to elements. Everything that touched it made it worse. Inflicting more pain with every touch.

Every now and then I could cleanse it, re dress the wound and make it comfortable, enough for me to bear. I could cope. I could use my hidden strengths, my sense of humour and bounce back despite the discomfort and pain. Pretending all was well.

But some days, as with this latest heartbreaking scenario, I can’t stand the pain. I don’t have the strength. I am tired of the pain. Tired of the missing people, tired of feeling sad. I’m just tired. Maybe if I had had family support during the last year, maybe that would have helped us both, David and I and maybe I wouldn’t be feeling this way.

It is times like today that I need to summon from somewhere, the ability to move on. I need to feel angry.

‘Anger is Sad’s bodyguard’.

A line I used in an earlier blog. It’s true. All through my life I have used this. Used anger to hide my feelings, used it to make people hear me.

If I can be angry….I can cope with Sad.

If I can be angry…. I can deal with how life has changed.

If I could be angry… Life would be better.

If I could be angry, …..I could blame cancer with a little or big ‘c’. But the truth is, that would be wrong.

I miss family. I am tired of being strong.

I am tired of pretending I am okay.

Tired of not being able to just move on as my family has.

Even after the two people who caused all of the suffering before and during the last year, for me, have been proven not to be trusted; even after knowing how they have made me ill and subjected others, to lies and dishonesty, family still won’t accept this and see the reality of the situation. They still ignore my messages and emails asking to be included. I have tried hard to make things right. My late sister Georgina asked me to promise to bring the family together again, she knew the truth, and I have tried but it hasn’t worked. I am sorry sis.

I am so tired of saying sorry. Yes I have apologized to those concerned, even though it wasn’t me who lied.

Memories come into my head and fall as tears down my face. The times I spent with my children, my nephews, my nieces. The times with grandchildren that should still be happening, for me and for my wonderful husband. My honesty has cost me dear. Memories can be a comfort but can also be a pain.

You are possibly thinking this is self-indulgent, again I am sorry but have always promised to write how I feel. It is times like this I need to summon up something from somewhere to enable me to bounce back, carry on.

2nd part.

I wrote the first part of this blog early today. But I have just returned from a gentle walk with David and my little dogs in our beautiful part of the world. It is so quiet, just the sound of the birds singing, the rustling of the trees newly dressed and the ducks playing on the water. It doesn’t look the same as it did, nothing is the same as it was. But as I glanced at my beloved husband, I thought I would come up here to my lovely little study and scrap this blog. But decided against that. I promised to write it as it is. To write with honesty, truth and openness, warts ‘n all. Because David had cancer. Because David had the surgery. Because he has the side effects, it doesn’t change the facts. PC cancer affects partners as much but in a different way. I thought I was okay, thought I had come through unscathed. But no surgery, no medication or treatment will make me well.

I know I have coped with horrors in my life many don’t experience and I always bounce back. But this time, the cancer that David had, affected me in a way I would never have thought possible and has left me wanting. Left me bereft. Left me with a kind of depression, delayed I think from ‘coping’ over the past 3 years. Culminating in the worst year of my adult life.That’s what happens sometimes, I know that from my work. You are okay during the trials but afterwards, things hit you like sledge hammers and you are left feeling as I do today.

Let’s hope I can find my way back. I need to focus on the positives. PC has taught me a lot, given me things like masses of information, that I will use to inform others of, for instance, getting checked early. It has helped me with statistics for the book I will write when I feel stronger but mostly it has given me many friends on social media. PC groups who have supported, encouraged and helped me through this journey from the very start. They gave been a Godsend. I am so grateful for them.

I hope next week my blog will be more positive and upbeat. Watch this space.

Thankyou once again, for reading.x

 

 

 

 

A Little Wobble, That’s All It Took, To Take Me Back To the ‘F’ Word.

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Life ‘here on the farm’ was getting back to a kind of normality. Of course David was still in recovery, still is in recovery really, but life was calmer and the dark days of the past 15 months were beginning to lessen in their attemps to creep back into my conscious hours. I still had moments of the ‘what ifs’ but had been able to push them out of my head because my beloved husband is cancer free, as much as we can say that and all is good with him. Last week we had begun work on the garden, small bits but at least we had started. We had managed our trip to Hampshire to see family, mainly my brother Tony and my son Jonathan. Both who are very poorly. It had been a harrowing weekend but good to have been able to see them and talk of the good times. As those of you who have read last week’s blog know, David had received a request to do a 2nd Bowel cancer test as the first had shown blood in the sample. This ‘delightful’ piece of information was waiting for us when we arrived home from our weekend; shattered, drained and exhausted. It was a like a huge slap. The biggest of blows and brought us to our knees. It was as if cancer with a little ‘c’ was having a laugh. ‘You thought it was safe, didn’t you, well take this’!

After a sleepless night full of the ‘f’ word that had plagued me for more than a year now, David did the new test and we posted it off. I say ‘plagued me’ because the whole idea of this blog is to tell it from my perspective, not from David’s. He is aware of my doing it and often reads my blog. I began it last August to offload, to share my fears, my sadness and helplessness and anger,so that other partners who feel this way, don’t feel alone. Giving them permission in a way. So these are my thoughts, my feelings and emotions. I was already blogging, as I had suffered a great deal of bullying online, from my eldest daughter Lisa and youngest sister Trisha, all of which has had a huge emotional impact on where I was physically and psychologically  when my Journey with cancer with a little ‘c’ began. Blogging on here was the only way I had of telling the truth of the nasty situation they had put me in.

So this past week, trying to come to terms with my brother’s terminal illness and worry about my son and other family stuff, I was left even more drained than before our visit, mostly because of the letter about the bowel cancer test. Suddenly I was back there, in the full throw of the fear and anger I had ,when David first had his diagnosis, or rather, it brought these emotions back in full with fear as the greatest of them all. When my husband had his first routine PSA test, it was slightly elevated so they repeated it. He had no signs, had not been poorly and was fit and active so I had no reasons to think he had anything wrong. After repeat PSA tests that were still high, he had, what I thought would be a routine biopsy last August and I was sure nothing would be found. I was not nervous, so sure all would be okay. How daft that proved to be! He had cancer and this horrible scary journey began. On the 23rd February this year he had Robotic surgery and now his PSA in undetectable. How thrilled we were. How safe and happy we felt. All is okay now. Or so I thought. Life would get back as it was before, here in our beautiful house with its amazing views that I had stopped being able to see. 

Teach me to be smug! Teach me to believe life after the past 3 horrible years, would be better now. A new beginning, another chance. 

This time, although he  had no signs of bowel cancer, no symptoms and wasn’t ill, this time, it was different. He had no signs last time, I told myself foolishly. I read and  re read the letter and I was terrified. So this past week has been a very long week. The screening letter had said, they would post the results of the 2nd test straight back to us. After the test had gone,we didn’t speak of this latest scary, we never mentioned it. I actually thought David had forgotten it, as he never said a word. He had been very pragmatic about the Prostate cancer and I thought that was why nothing had been said. It was almost as though the letter had never come, as though the test had never been done. We were both very low, exhausted from the weekend’s harrowing times and very tired.

Our drive is about 100 yards long and so the post is left in a post box at the end of it. Neither of us, any day this past week, offered to collect the post. Silly really as though that would stop it arriving. Thursday and Friday saw us leaving it in the box. But yesterday we had no choice. After returning from our daily dog walk, the box was over full and we had to empty it.

I recognized the letter straight away, the NHS logo on the front was a kind of clue. I said nothing and continued to walk up to the house. Then I told David the letter had come. At first he just shrugged his shoulders. A little later, after a cup of coffee, he asked if he should open it. I didn’t want him to. I wanted to throw it in the bin. After all, I was so wrong last time. The ‘what ifs’ were coming fast and furious and I began to feel light-headed. Seeing this, my wonderful strong man, slit open the letter and passed it to me. It was clear. The sample was clear! It took a few minutes to sink in but it meant that David did not have Bowel cancer and was okay. After looking over at him, I rushed over and we both cried. I told him how scared I had been and he said, ‘not as scared as me, I bet’. My big strong man, my rock who had been so pragmatic and resilient during the past few years and particularly this last year of hospital tests, biopsies, and surgery, had been scared and had kept it to himself. We hugged cried and then laughed. All would be well now. I could now bounce back.

Through everything,the past year and a bit, with this awful disease, it had been the fear of what we thought we knew that had affected us. Not knowing or unknowing at one point, what we knew, was impossible. But this time we knew. He was in the clear and life could now begin.

During my Journey with PC , Fear was the hardest for me.  This past week, it had returned, the flashbacks, the nightmares and the hypervigilance, all back.  Legacies from childhood I think. We all get scared at times, but having been a victim of CSA,  one of the legacies is the huge fear and symptoms of PTSD.  These had all returned when I was suffering abuse of a different kind over the past 3 years, over the Internet, by ‘family. Bullying in the way the woman they called my mother had bullied me, by my daughter  and sister.  So I was already in a vulnerable place when this cancer struck. Although this fear was different, it still rendered me lower than I had ever been before.

Over the last weekend, I was pleased to know that my brother had his family all around him. The family he had created, his sons and daughters, the family, or part of his birth family, myself and my middle sister June and my own family, although a long way away. This is how it should be.Love should begin at home and I am so happy to know he is loved and cared for so well. I wish I could do my bit as I would have done if closer.

Sadly, I don’t have a family, no-one really apart from us ‘here on the farm’. It’s just how it is, not trying for sympathy, that is life. I do have valued good friends but all who live away; so we are now in the process of putting our house in order so to speak, and providing for the animals in our care, for when we are no longer able to keep them. I have left instructions re my personal belongings, jewelry and the like and bequests for my grandsons and grand daughter. It’s a hard task but if Tony can arrange and choose his funeral then I know I can and must do this. These past few years have taught me that life can be over in a flash.

We are hoping to go down to Portsmouth again soon. Maybe see people we didn’t get around to seeing. But in the mean time, bouncing back is the theme of the day. Not to let fear ruin my today. If I am scared, face the fear head on and as nothing can be worse than the past 3 years, the last year being the worst in my adult life, I know I can do this.

As I have written here before, Prostate cancer is an unusual cancer, in that  it affects partners and wives in a huge way. Yes the man has the illness but we both have the pain.The side effects are often, but not always life changing. I believe the fear of these, the immense waiting periods between tests, tests and more tests and then results, are unending and cause us all untold damage. But. We can come though this, we need to talk to each other, express our fears, allow our anger and our sadness and never be afraid to cry.

If you have read my blog up until today, you will have read my struggles and in some ways, they will continue but not today. Today is to enjoy. To look forward and to say Thankyou to everyone who has supported me in this journey I never asked to take. Without you all, who knows where I would have been. Thankyou x

To lighten the mood.A few years ago, I decided to have a new hair do.As those who know me from social media, when my children’s book was published I had a shoulder length blonde hair. When I asked my daughter if I should change it, she said ‘yes Mum, you look like a Weeble’. I was mortified. But do you know what. ‘Weebles wobble but they don’t fall down’. So perhaps that’s what I am, even without the hairdo!

 

Thank you for reading. xx

 

Just When You Think You Can Breathe Again……

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Well this weekend was one of the most harrowing I have endured for a long time. Yes even after the past year, with my husband’s cancer, diagnosis and treatment. During that time, I was overwhelmed, terrified, sad and lonely, off and on, in equal measures. As those of you who have read my blog will know.

When David was about to have surgery, my brother was given his prognosis of a few months to live. My little dog had cancer and was in surgery and then my son, in Hampshire, contracted Gullian Barr syndrome and was paralysed.  Some of you will know that I didn’t bring up my son, he was adopted as a baby, at a time when I was ill and had no-one to help me. The biggest regret and sadness in my life. I have always kept in touch with the agency who was involved at the time and when he was 21, they asked if I wanted to meet with him, apologising for the whole sorry ordeal of losing him. Since them we have been in touch. These past few years we have become closer and although I hadn’t been able to see him for a few years, I needed to see him now. So there I was, David fighting cancer, Elli fighting cancer;me ill with a vascular issue, my brother very ill and then Jonathan’s illness. Not being able to go and see those I loved was heartbreaking, so we decided on the spur of the moment to make the trip to Hampshire last weekend. A 6 hour drive each way but David felt able to do this as his recovery was going so well.

 

Because of commitments here ‘on the farm’ and illness in the past 3 years, we hadn’t been able to make the trip to see family, as we used to at least twice a year. So although I knew it would be difficult, we were looking forward to visiting. How much I had needed a hug from my brother these past 2 years is beyond description, especially during our fight against PC. We travelled down early Saturday morning and went straight to his home. I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t prepared for how frail he looks. Not ready to see the big bear of a man who has always been there for me, my big brother, so poorly and frail. My heart went out to him. He tried to get up but I stopped him and gave him the hug I had held onto for so long. I did keep myself together but it was hard. After initially listening to what he knew of his illness, what the specialist had told him and arrangement he had made, we shared some fun times, some good happy memories in my not so happy childhood. Most of my happy times were either with him as we were so close or with my best friend, another Carol. I reminded him of a time he called me out of school, once lunchtime when I was around 5 years of age and he was 7. I had been queuing for dinner and he said we had to go home. If Tony had told me the moon was made of cream cheese, I would have believed him. We went into an orchard and went ‘scrumping’. Eating plums and apples to our hearts content. After a little while we came out and sat on the pavement, feeling a little poorly. A lady who we knew walked past and stopped to ask why we weren’t in school. Quick as a flash, Tony said. ‘we are going to the dentist’. She smiled and walked on past. On arriving home, feeling the worse for wear, Mother was waiting with arms folded, the lady we had seen, was on her way to our house and said she had seen us on our way to  the dentist!! Those of you who knew our Mother, can guess the rest. Tony reminded me of my helping him with his paper round. When I say helping, I marked the papers up, he sat on his bike with the bag across the bar, handing out the papers, one by one for me to run and deliver them to the appropriate house, facing dogs and anything else.Some days, he ‘didn’t feel well’ so I would go alone. Those days always seemed to be wet days as I remember, strange that. He was paid 10 shillings and sixpence. He gave me the sixpence. But I would have done anything for him and he for me so at the time, that was okay. We shared many memories that possibly no one else in the family know, funny times, cheeky times lovely memories for us both to cherish. I didn’t want to leave. He knew that, and I don’t think he wanted us to either. When Tony and Lin used to come to our cottage in Monmouth, Tony never wanted to leave. We have shared some wonderful times together, Tony and I when we were growing up. Some of my ‘in betweens’, for those who read my book. In the past years, firstly in Hampshire and then  since we have lived in Wales, David, Tony and Lin and me. I will treasure them all. We are hoping to go down again as soon as we can, maybe see more family but really to spend some more time with my brother.

When we left, I was very down, I had found the visit both harrowing and yet good, all at the same time.To take the gloom out of the day before going to the hotel, we decided to visit my ‘old’ friend Lin. I speak on here to her but again, being able to hug her was one of the highlights of a sad weekend. She didn’t know we were coming but as always, made us very welcome. We talked and talked, I tried not to get upset as she has her own sadness but I learned a great deal about me on this visit. She knows me in some ways, better than I know myself. Some re-assuring, some enlightening.I took this as my positive, my treat for the whole weekend because it was uplifting to see her again.

On the Sunday we visited my son and I met his partner, someone I had only communicated with over email/social media etc. This was a good visit but again, a bit sad and scary. He is learning to walk again and trying to regain his strength. He is strong-minded and I know will do this. I looked at him and could see my brother in some of his expressions and particularly the way he laughed. David saw this as well. Whilst sitting there, I was thinking of all the lost years. All of the milestones I had missed. Again, I had to keep it together as I didn’t want anyone to see how I was struggling. Leaving him was as always, very hard.

So all in all, the weekend was difficult, harrowing, sad and scary. But on the other hand it was good to see the other two men in my life and hug them, good to see my friend and do the same. I also found the experience enlightening and encouraging as they all wished David a speedy recovery and showed how much they all care for us both.

I learned a lot over those two days, mostly about myself and also about how to make things right for those in my family. I haven’t been able to do that yet but have things in mind.

We arrived home on Sunday evening exhausted. I had been worried about David as it was the first time we had been anywhere and he still has incontinence issues but managed very well. I felt we had turned the corner, regained some normality after the most horrendous year. I felt emotionally drained and just wanted to go to bed.  Oh how I wish I had done that and not let David open his post.

We thought it was all over, thought we had beaten cancer with a little ‘c’. perhaps we have. Perhaps I am worrying about the ‘what ifs’ all over again. But what cancer does to you is this. When it strikes, it has no thought or care for whatever is happening in your life at that time. You just have to manage the ‘c’ and everything else life has thrown at you. It leaves you with a fear like no other. You go through so many emotions and never really believe things are okay. But we thought we were okay. That life had thrown everything it could throw at us in the past 3 years. I hope I am wrong in worrying that there is still some nasties to come. So why am I worried? David’s letter told him, that a Bowel cancer test we had both taken, just before we went away, showed traces of blood. He had to do another test.

Not again! Not now! No more, I wanted to shout. Needless to say all the fear and terror returned. All the scary, all the angry, all the fear. We went to bed but I couldn’t find the worry button and so I never slept, even though I was exhausted. Although I sort reassurance from my group members and I am grateful for those who wrote, I am still very scared.

The worry stole my yesterday. I don’t even remember yesterday. Today I have accepted that maybe it will be ‘here we go again’. We don’t know until the test David did yesterday and today, has been done and the results come back to us. Yes worry steals today. It stops you being happy and it saps your strength.

I have worked hard on being strong again. I have always had to be, since a child but lost the ability during my journey with cancer with a  little ‘c’, on and off. I need to find it again. I have always bounced back. Boy do I need to do that now.

 

I hope you are all doing okay and thankyou for reading x