This weekend was meant to be a bit of father/daughter bonding time down in Norfolk for me and my pops. Bonding, it certainly was... I don't think we've ever been closer or more similar than these past couple of days.
Saturday morning, dad had a heart attack. He's fine, he's going to be ok. But it was scary. We were on our own, just back to the cottage we were staying in after having viewed one house (dad's looking at investing in a property on the Norfolk coast). And it just happened. Dad had been feeling a bit off-colour all morning, and said he'd had a restless night, but he put it down to the time of year, and maybe he was picking up a bit of my baby girl's bug that she had last week.
I think I did everything right when it happened. I was terrified, but I stayed as calm as possible, called for an ambulance and followed the 999 operator's directions for how to help pops. The ambulance arrived really quickly, in hindsight, but it felt like an eternity.
I really thought my dad was going to die right in front of my eyes. Scared isn't the word.
It turns out it was only a "mild" heart attack (what a drama queen!), so dad's doing great. He's still in hospital in King's Lynn, and his partner is with him now - I called her as soon as we'd got to the hospital. It was only then that I cried... well, sobbed. J brought her straight over and stayed with us Saturday night (thank god - I was all over the place by then, and exhausted!), and then J and I came home last night and dad's other half is staying in a bed and breakfast near the hospital as long as dad's being kept prisoner ;)
Yesterday dad got really upset and was apologising to me and anyone who would listen... just like I do when I'm in hospital. I appreciate how annoying that is now! And he's climbing the walls to get out... we're more similar than I ever gave credit for.
So that was my weekend. It didn't quite go to plan, and I'm sure pops has a little road to recovery ahead, but he's doing fine and he's going to be just great.
Oh, and my radiotherapy treatment starts today - wish me luck!
Monday, 16 January 2012
Friday, 13 January 2012
The norm
I think I've forgotten what it's like to be normal.
Most people's response to that statement will be something like "...whatever normal is...", or "...no such thing as normal...", and I guess they're right. My response to that is that "this" - everything that's going on in my life now - isn't how I remember normal life being. Though I suppose it's becoming my norm now.
What's prompted me to feel like this? Someone has talked to me recently like I'm "normal". Everyone tiptoes around me at the moment. They're careful not to upset me; they go out of their way to keep me calm, not provoke an argument so I don't get upset; and I'm pretty certain that their poor little toes must be hurting from all the eggshells they walk on!
But just recently, these past couple of days, someone pretty close has taken a different approach with something not related to the illness. They've given it to me straight, just talked to me as they would have done 14 months ago.
I think I appreciate it. But, to be honest, I've become so used to being talked to "nicely" that it's come as a bit of a shock and I'm not quite sure how to handle it!
When something that isn't your norm becomes your norm, how do you handle the abnormal... or how do you ask somebody to help you deal with it, because it's probably their norm!
I'm confusing matters now.
I'd gotten [sorry, R - that word!] used to the nicey-nice treatment and was shocked by the bluntness of this person. Shocked into silence, in fact. Which of course came across as being "A Silence". It wasn't meant like that. I'm just not used to people treating me like "any other person" anymore.
I can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing. I know it's probably my own doing, because sometimes even the most nicely asked question can result in me biting someone's head off.
I need to get out of the mindset that I can use Cancer as my excuse for being sharp-tongued.
Anyway, aside from all the abnormality, radiotherapy starts on Monday. I've attended all my pre-radio hospital appointments, so I'm ready to be zapped! I hope I respond well to some musical notes being played through me... I wonder if I get to choose which radio station they tune me in to? I am joking... I know radiotherapy isn't really anything to do with music, but please allow me that little imagination...
I'll report back on Monday to let you know how my first DJ session went ;)
Most people's response to that statement will be something like "...whatever normal is...", or "...no such thing as normal...", and I guess they're right. My response to that is that "this" - everything that's going on in my life now - isn't how I remember normal life being. Though I suppose it's becoming my norm now.
What's prompted me to feel like this? Someone has talked to me recently like I'm "normal". Everyone tiptoes around me at the moment. They're careful not to upset me; they go out of their way to keep me calm, not provoke an argument so I don't get upset; and I'm pretty certain that their poor little toes must be hurting from all the eggshells they walk on!
But just recently, these past couple of days, someone pretty close has taken a different approach with something not related to the illness. They've given it to me straight, just talked to me as they would have done 14 months ago.
I think I appreciate it. But, to be honest, I've become so used to being talked to "nicely" that it's come as a bit of a shock and I'm not quite sure how to handle it!
When something that isn't your norm becomes your norm, how do you handle the abnormal... or how do you ask somebody to help you deal with it, because it's probably their norm!
I'm confusing matters now.
I'd gotten [sorry, R - that word!] used to the nicey-nice treatment and was shocked by the bluntness of this person. Shocked into silence, in fact. Which of course came across as being "A Silence". It wasn't meant like that. I'm just not used to people treating me like "any other person" anymore.
I can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing. I know it's probably my own doing, because sometimes even the most nicely asked question can result in me biting someone's head off.
I need to get out of the mindset that I can use Cancer as my excuse for being sharp-tongued.
Anyway, aside from all the abnormality, radiotherapy starts on Monday. I've attended all my pre-radio hospital appointments, so I'm ready to be zapped! I hope I respond well to some musical notes being played through me... I wonder if I get to choose which radio station they tune me in to? I am joking... I know radiotherapy isn't really anything to do with music, but please allow me that little imagination...
I'll report back on Monday to let you know how my first DJ session went ;)
Monday, 9 January 2012
A fond farewell
I realise it's been a while since I last wrote on here, but fear not - I'm still around!
What's been happening in the last month...? A few hospital visits; crippling chest pains; a blood transfusion; realising that I can no longer walk without aid, whether it be my crutches, my wheels or an arm; planning a radiotherapy schedule with my consultant; making the decision to take no more chemo and have my Hickman line removed.
Almost nine months I've had that line in for... so I feel a bit strange now it's gone. It only got removed today, so I'm a little sore at the moment. And I feel like something's missing. I think I'd got used to it being there. And it took me so long to get used to having it in the first place!
The removal itself was straightforward and pain-free. I could feel it being wiggled to free it, and could feel it being slid out, but it didn't hurt.
And now... well now I can take my baby girl swimming, and she can rest her head on me while we're having a cosy snuggle without me having to move her to one side.
It'll be strange not having to tap her hand away from tugging on it, too!
I think it's a bittersweet farewell - I'm thrilled that it's gone and I can start to look a bit normal again, but I can't help thinking that by refusing any further chemo this is going to be the start of the end.
Who really knows...
What's been happening in the last month...? A few hospital visits; crippling chest pains; a blood transfusion; realising that I can no longer walk without aid, whether it be my crutches, my wheels or an arm; planning a radiotherapy schedule with my consultant; making the decision to take no more chemo and have my Hickman line removed.
Almost nine months I've had that line in for... so I feel a bit strange now it's gone. It only got removed today, so I'm a little sore at the moment. And I feel like something's missing. I think I'd got used to it being there. And it took me so long to get used to having it in the first place!
The removal itself was straightforward and pain-free. I could feel it being wiggled to free it, and could feel it being slid out, but it didn't hurt.
And now... well now I can take my baby girl swimming, and she can rest her head on me while we're having a cosy snuggle without me having to move her to one side.
It'll be strange not having to tap her hand away from tugging on it, too!
I think it's a bittersweet farewell - I'm thrilled that it's gone and I can start to look a bit normal again, but I can't help thinking that by refusing any further chemo this is going to be the start of the end.
Who really knows...
Monday, 12 December 2011
I'm tired
That's all I have to say about it all.
I'm so tired.
Had a lovely weekend, mostly made up of entertaining the children - swimming with baby girl and her brother, Santa's Grotto visits and Sunday lunch. X Factor final night... two drunken boys coming home late on Saturday night. A slight hiccup with my medication.
And I'm exhausted.
J has gone back to work today after his sabbatical from work. It's gone far too fast, and I miss him already. I'd got used to having him around and relying on him. It was very difficult seeing him go off this morning, and I might have cried a little bit, which probably made it even harder for him (sorry, dude).
It's going to be a long week if it continues like this.
Oh, and it's my birthday on Saturday.
I'm so tired.
Had a lovely weekend, mostly made up of entertaining the children - swimming with baby girl and her brother, Santa's Grotto visits and Sunday lunch. X Factor final night... two drunken boys coming home late on Saturday night. A slight hiccup with my medication.
And I'm exhausted.
J has gone back to work today after his sabbatical from work. It's gone far too fast, and I miss him already. I'd got used to having him around and relying on him. It was very difficult seeing him go off this morning, and I might have cried a little bit, which probably made it even harder for him (sorry, dude).
It's going to be a long week if it continues like this.
Oh, and it's my birthday on Saturday.
Monday, 5 December 2011
All the others
Wow, what a weekend - we've been here, there and everywhere doing everything Christmassy... I've loved it! Though I'm paying the price a little for it now.
I've taken my doctor's advice and stopped pushing myself, so I'm feeling a lot better in terms of hip pain and tiredness. But now I'm noticing all the other things... it never stops!
On Saturday I was out with my friend G and in the wheelchair for most of the day. That night, though she didn't let on, I know G was suffering with sore arms from pushing me around all day. Yesterday I managed on my two crutches (called Mark and Owen!) but by the end of a busy day leaning on them, my hands and arms were agony!
I've lost track of what I'm taking my medication for - my cancer, the pain from the tumours, or the new aches and niggles!
I've taken my doctor's advice and stopped pushing myself, so I'm feeling a lot better in terms of hip pain and tiredness. But now I'm noticing all the other things... it never stops!
On Saturday I was out with my friend G and in the wheelchair for most of the day. That night, though she didn't let on, I know G was suffering with sore arms from pushing me around all day. Yesterday I managed on my two crutches (called Mark and Owen!) but by the end of a busy day leaning on them, my hands and arms were agony!
I've lost track of what I'm taking my medication for - my cancer, the pain from the tumours, or the new aches and niggles!
Tuesday, 29 November 2011
Two steps forward, three steps back
Today isn't one of the good ones.
I'm fine, and my new freelance work is going great. I'm really enjoying it... it's only for two weeks, but there could be a possibility of me providing future cover if all goes to plan.
I'm struggling with my hip though. I'm not sure if sitting at the computer has triggered it - I've been at the kitchen table, working while dad supplies endless cups of tea and saucers of biscuits, but perhaps this sitting position has made me sore.
I was managing to walk unaided this past week or so. We went into London at the weekend and, although we took the wheelchair, I did a fair amount of walking on my own. It felt great. But now I'm having to use a crutch to get around the house and down the drive to J's car just to go out for lunch (which was yummy, by the way!). I feel like I've made such progress and now it's been overshadowed.
Positive thinking, I know that's what I need. It's mighty difficult when you're in such pain, though.
I'm fine, and my new freelance work is going great. I'm really enjoying it... it's only for two weeks, but there could be a possibility of me providing future cover if all goes to plan.
I'm struggling with my hip though. I'm not sure if sitting at the computer has triggered it - I've been at the kitchen table, working while dad supplies endless cups of tea and saucers of biscuits, but perhaps this sitting position has made me sore.
I was managing to walk unaided this past week or so. We went into London at the weekend and, although we took the wheelchair, I did a fair amount of walking on my own. It felt great. But now I'm having to use a crutch to get around the house and down the drive to J's car just to go out for lunch (which was yummy, by the way!). I feel like I've made such progress and now it's been overshadowed.
Positive thinking, I know that's what I need. It's mighty difficult when you're in such pain, though.
Friday, 25 November 2011
Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside
Our holiday to the Norfolk coast was more than I could have hoped for... baby girl and I had the nicest time. While we were away we had visits from numerous people - my dad and his partner, baby girl's daddy and his son and girlfriend, a few old friends came to spend days with us. The sea air did me the world of good... I'm currently able to walk unaided (if not for long) and to pick up Tinkerbell without any help. I'm beyond happy. Can't make you understand how good it feels to be a mummy again. Being able to bath my little angel and put her to bed myself... just the little things mean the world to me.
The best thing of all about our break away was being able to take Mini Me swimming. I haven't been able to since she was born because of post-labour issues, then operations, chemo, more operations... so having a bit of a bob in the water with my baby girl held up against me was incredible.
Now we're home, and I'm feeling so well. It's ironic, really, that I have this "death sentence" hanging over me but I'm feeling better than I have in about 12 months! Lots of things are happening, and all good things.
Starting next week, I'm doing two weeks freelancing for a magazine - it's working from home, just covering some holiday, but it's going to be good to dip my toe back into some work. Plus a bit of money in the run up to Christmas will be very welcome!
Also starting next week, baby girl and I are going to baby singing classes and a tumbling tots group. I want to get her out and about and meeting other little tots while I'm well enough to take her.
I have no idea when my next chemo will start, but my friends and I have plans for the next few weekends (santa's grotto visiting, Christmas markets etc etc), so hopefully the poison-givers will hold off until the new year to let me have a nice birthday and Christmas - can't be worse than last year's birthday when I was having a bit of lung chopped out, anyway!
The best thing of all about our break away was being able to take Mini Me swimming. I haven't been able to since she was born because of post-labour issues, then operations, chemo, more operations... so having a bit of a bob in the water with my baby girl held up against me was incredible.
Now we're home, and I'm feeling so well. It's ironic, really, that I have this "death sentence" hanging over me but I'm feeling better than I have in about 12 months! Lots of things are happening, and all good things.
Starting next week, I'm doing two weeks freelancing for a magazine - it's working from home, just covering some holiday, but it's going to be good to dip my toe back into some work. Plus a bit of money in the run up to Christmas will be very welcome!
Also starting next week, baby girl and I are going to baby singing classes and a tumbling tots group. I want to get her out and about and meeting other little tots while I'm well enough to take her.
I have no idea when my next chemo will start, but my friends and I have plans for the next few weekends (santa's grotto visiting, Christmas markets etc etc), so hopefully the poison-givers will hold off until the new year to let me have a nice birthday and Christmas - can't be worse than last year's birthday when I was having a bit of lung chopped out, anyway!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)