Morning all,
It is early. 4.45am to be precise. I have been awake now for over two hours. The boys are all sleeping soundly. As is the way of things my brain is ticking over and I figure blogging is the best way to get it to be quiet.
Since we got the results yesterday I have had a mix of emotions. Everyone is so happy for us and we are happy too. We are. But...it has also brought me down somewhat too. This I hadn't expected, in fact I hadn't really thought much beyond actually sitting in front of Dr Oncologist and receiving the results.
With everyone being so happy and elated for us I felt bad somehow not feeling the same. I have tried. We even went out last night to 'celebrate' but it doesn't really feel like a celebration. What it has done is highlight the uncertainty that we now live with. The unexpected side effect of each interaction with the hospital be a scan or a clinic appointment is that it kicks my brain into action on a renewed scale. I then spend the next few days chewing over the same thoughts. It makes me consider my future, my new future, and what it holds. I have had to explain to people that whilst it has shrunk I am still not cured. It is still there and could come back. It probably will come back and twice as aggressive. Then I wonder when it comes back where will it go? Will it appear on my lungs? my liver? my spine? worse still my brain? I hate that I cannot even enjoy a small victory. Cancer doesn't seem to keen on allowing me to be happy about very much at all. It has also brought back the really dark thoughts of how will the end come? will it be messy? will it be painful? Where will I want to be at the end? in a hospice? at home? Do I want the children around me? I want their faces to be the last thing I see but then is it fair for me to put them through that? Is it selfish? I just don't know.
I obviously don't want the end to come. I will fight it every inch of the way. But still the thoughts persist. I have been reading other cancer patients books or blogs and I see in their writing the self same fears, hopes and emotions that I am experiencing. It is like an addiction. I need to know all there is to know about this disease, it gives me an element of control over something so horribly unpredictable. Whether this research is helpful or not I cannot tell. I prefer to know but then a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. Sometimes I wish I could just be happy to stick my head in the sand.
I am scared. I don't want to leave my family behind. I hate that we are having to go through this. Everything I do or watch or read reminds me of my imminent mortality. I have said before that I wish my doctors could install a switch in my head that I could flick when I have had enough of the 'cancer thoughts'. That would be a really useful advancement in cancer research in the absence of a cure in my opinion and I am sure I am not alone in thinking that.
Tonight or today to be really precise I have been watching a programme which just happened to have a bit about birth and babies. It bought back the memories of all the happiest times of my life when I first met our beautiful children. The last of these new meetings was not that long ago less than two years, so it is fresh in my mind relatively. That new baby feel, smell and the overwhelming love that you feel when you first hold that perfect little being. The rush of love. But yet again cancer interrupted. It shouted at me 'you can never do that again' not that I wanted to but the thought that cancer has took that away is dreadful. It shouted at me 'you won't see them grow up' it just invades everything, every thought and turns the happy ones into sad ones. Thinking hurts. Why us? Why our family? But then why not? Why should we get away with it? In my worst moments I think why couldn't this have happened to someone else? Why won't I get to be old and see my children grow? Then I feel bad.
The sun is starting to come up and Jo is coming back up today ready for chemo day tomorrow so I will leave it there. Sorry to be so down, we are going away this weekend to a caravan so hopefully a change of scenery will do me good. I know the thoughts won't go away but maybe they can be quieter?
Take care xxx
