I have not written since last month – sounds a long time but it’s only a few days. So welcome August. I usually embrace this month as it means I have the summer off to be at home and see my family and friends. However, August – if you are listening – hurry up and get the hell out of here. I will be saying the same to September and October. I want this chapter gone and my life back.
I have mainly been feeling well and as close to my original self recently. I have made the most of the well days. Sadly they don’t always last as long as you’d like, so I cram in as much as I can. This can tuck me up too. Puts me on my ass.
Over the last few days we have been celebrating my husband’s birthday, and my sister-in-law has visited us for the first time since Christmas, we’ve walked to our local pubs for food and drink a few times and I’ve actually finished writing my scheme of work for my new course for the college. I’ve seen a few clients too. My husband is having an office/therapy room built outside in our garden and that has taken shape nicely. However the Pembrokeshire wind and rain have halted proceedings.
My husbands birthday not only brought him his 43rd year on this planet, it also brought him warm, glorious sunshine that glowed over us as we had a socially distanced family BBQ. I had so much fun. Surrounded by people who love me and who have shared this with me, stood by my side for as long as I can remember too. Beautiful people.
After his very splendid efforts at the BBQ realm, my husband started on the shots and almost everyone celebrating joined in with him. Remember – I am such a control freak – so I totally swerved this and just threw what little eyebrows I have in the air hoping for a vomit-free outcome! (I didn’t get one by the way – both my husband and Son emptied the contents of the evening within about 2 hours of it ending!?).
A slideshow of pictures of the evening to share…..
Tonight we reminisced about holidays and Christmas’s past. We were all drunk on life (and wine) and just stayed in the moment – filling our boots with the joy of being together again after lock down. I really did feel the furthest away from cancer I could be given my situation. You really do come to appreciate and embrace the moments where cancer doesn’t matter.
I adore my sister-in-law and we spent a few days together and with the help of the weather we could sit outside and be safe in each other’s company. When I said goodbye to her on Saturday I was gutted. We held each other until our arms hurt and through sad eyes I watched her disappear from my rear view mirror. I dragged my sadness out of me and replaced it with happiness. Thinking the next time I see her I will be so much closer to the finishing line – closer to getting the hell out of chemotherapy land.
I also went for my bone scan on Monday. There is four hours of my life I won’t get back! You have an injection of radioactive liquid in your arm – wait three hours – then the scan itself (in my case) took just over an hour. The shit that went through my head in that time would have you close your laptop or have you throw your phone against the wall. The worse thing for me is to have big open space to think and 60 minutes of dead air really allowed me to weave in a concoction of disturbed thinking even Freud would have trouble analyzing. The machine comes very close to your face. A little portly fellow was very effective at informing me what to expect, when and why. They took 10 minutes to take oblique images of my lower back, as this is the area that is giving me the most pain. And this is the area I was very keen to get looked at for signs of cancer that may have been missed in the CT scan. After everything that went on for me in November, I am hyper sensitive to checking in with what I should be having done. I don’t fully trust those caring for me which is a real shame and has definitely hardened my journey through this. It has without any doubt made it much harder to be and to allow those in these positions to guide me with 100% confidence.
It was hard and frustrating being poker straight and stone cold still as the X-ray machine twisted and turned it’s way through the program. And I asked for this remember! I am here because I am scared. I am raging at another prospect of another mistake or misjudgment of my cancer. Not a good place to be.
I think I am in control with my positive focus and hard determination. But actually, I am reminded here, yet again, that I am powerless. My control has a light touch. The rogue cells in my body are really the ones navigating my survival. They may have behaved and stayed put. They may not have done. As I write this they may have their little pick axes out looking for a new place to dig and bury themselves. Has the chemo kicked their tools to the side and taken their destructiveness with it? Or have they remained hard at work, silently killing me slowly? How cruel would that be?
I am of the mind I will make a full recovery but what if I am wrong? What if the cells are already developing and my days, weeks, months or years are numbered?
Which makes me think this. if I could find out now when and how my life would end would I want to know? Pre-cancer my answer would be an emphatic NO.
Now? An emphatic YES. I would want to know. Why? To gain back control and to make sure I was prepared and ready. The answer to this (to me) would instantly rip out all the uncertainty I feel every single waking moment of my now cancer driven life.
As I sit here now – not even halfway through my treatment – I know I would give anything to ground myself in certainty and control. Want to know the ironic thing? The sad thing? The real thing? Did I ever really have certainty and control before my cells went in to overdrive and multiplied?
Probably not.