So day two of cancer relief has been quite pleasant. Got up late, did very little and achieved even less - perfect. Well so very nearly........
Two things of note occurred today; the in-laws came round for tea and a friend I hadn't heard from for a couple of years rang to announce he was stopping by, coincidentally at the same time.
So there I am having a chat with the mother-in-law about events of the past week (she does try to take an active interest) when the business of my newly enlarged lymph node in the neck entered the conversation.
"Oh well" she commented "at least it all seems to be concentrating itself in the one area" Phew (thought I) that's alright then.
She does mean well.
Then me old mate and his partner turn up. Apparently I look much better than he expected (we've all been through that one). He then proceeded to tell the tale of his friend who got some form of cancer 'not sure which type' but lasted no time at all after they found it.......tumbleweed blows across the living room floor, deep breaths all round and move on.
He does mean well.
And that's the point I guess, people do mean well. They want to help, they want to get involved, they want to do their bit - but in the main they don't really know how. They kind of tread on eggshells around you, frantically hoping the C word doesn't come up and then when it does they panic. Cue the inappropriate comment and embarassed silence and now they don't want to be involved, suddenly they'd rather be anywhere else doing just about anything else.
So can we help them? Probably not.
Should we help them? Probably, but I'm not sure how to be honest. I reckon it's all part of the learning process for us and them. How we deal with others and how they deal with us changed on D for Diagnosis day. Things just aren't going to be the same and no matter how many leaflets featuring gardeners (thanks Little My for that one) are given out, there really isn't a manual and we have to compile it as we go along.
So that's it with the pearls of wisdom for tonight, as all this thinking has tired me out and I need my bed. It's actually quite pleasant to be able to finally get into bed for a kip after spending a few weeks sleeping on the sofa, as it was far more comfortable following the surgery.
Upon hearing the news that I was finally back in the marital bed my dear old Dad commented "Ah well, at least things are getting back to normal". Really!!
You'd think he'd know better as well considering he had his oesophagus removed last year due to cancer but hey, HE DOES MEAN WELL!
Night all.
