So today marks the end of my brothers six week radio/chemotherapy or 30 individual sessions or 360 minutes frying of his brain as he called it. The last six weeks have been shall we say "testing", he has become very much the centre of my life again, my absolute focus and I'm incredibly proud today that we've got this far together. Don't get me wrong! It's been hard, we've had tears, angry outbursts, sadness, confusion, drama, you name it we've felt every emotion going. It's been a hard slog working out how to get him to hospital every day for his treatment, clocking up 100+ miles a day travel has been the least of it, add into that working full time, taking care of a family, being the primary carer for our mother with dementia to say I'm cream crackered would be an understatement ! Having said all that today I am an incredibly proud big sister, proud that he saw this phase through, having dreaded every day as the sickness took hold that he'd sack it all off and refuse to carry on.
We now have 4 weeks off, no chemo, no radiotherapy, no antibiotics and a slowly tailing dose of steroids. Then we start the next phase, 6 months chemo and then ......... who knows what will come after.
I'm feeling so tired, bone tired and weary, emotionally drained, then I give my head another wobble and remind myself I'm not the one with a monster growing inside me am I.
