Struggling to come to terms with mums diagnosis

I don’t think it stops the pain no matter how old our parents our. It’s an emotional response rather than an rational one. We all know our parents will die one day but when it happens by gosh it hits so much harder than I ever imagined.

my dad was diagnosed in December with small cell lung cancer, he is now on palliative care towards the end of his life. Looking at survival statistics gave me both hope and dread and think this feeling of needing to prepare by researching and trying to anticipate what might come next is part of the process. All I can do now is take things day be day. 

I am totally with you with the feeling of devastation when they are still alive and here with us!! It’s called anticipatory grieve but it really does impact being able to enjoy the time we have with them. I would advise not to put pressure on yourself to enjoy and make the most of the remaining time. You have had your whole life’s before you to create special memories and have joyful times. Trying to create these whilst you are emotionally devestated is just an exhausting task. There were still be nice moments though. Having hope even just for a bit on a hopeless situation is useful and will get you both through. Even if all your can hope for is her feeling a bit better or going into remission for a short period of time. It’s still a bit of relief in these very dark times. I am thinking of you and i am sorry that any of us has to deal with our parents death. Truly the worst.

Thank you i really apprecite your response.  Its terrible that you are going thruogh this but its nice to know i'm not alone x

You are not alone.

As a family member I have sought help from ‘Maggies’ centres which are across the country. You can drop in there for a coffee and a chat at anytime.

I have also had support from a family worker as part of my dads palliative care team. 

ive called the McMillan helpline on one occasion when I’ve just needed to chat and often use the McMillan online chat. There’s good support out there.

Thanks for what you said about not putting pressure on the remaining time. That’s helpful for me. Since my mom’s diagnosis every visit, every holiday is tinged with the “will this be the last...” She has colon cancer and at first the prognosis was good but then the first chemo didn’t work and now she is having so many complications... I’m in the same place do I hold out hope that she will overcome all of this— the pneumonia and infections and the horrible side effects of chemo AND stop the cancer spread? Or do i face what the evidence is pointing to? 
For me I feel like I will be in a better place to support my family now and face my days if I try to remain positive no matter what. It doesn’t mean I don’t have hard moments, hours, days and nights. But I make an effort  to re-center towards hope and faith. 
Flowers I think we are going through something very similar. Happy to chat anytime. 

I am very sorry to hear about your mum. I felt compelled to respond because every word of your contribution is exactly how I feel about my Dads cancer diagnosis, we know in his case he is likely to have months rather than years left and the unknown eats away at me. Your comments around wanting to feel hopefully whilst being devastated is something I struggle with a lot.  

My head spins worrying about the future, feeling sick about each time I see him and how many times I will see him again. I guess reading your words is partly knowing that I am not alone in these feelings. 

I have also felt isolated despite having loving friends and family and why I have joined this community to find some sort of comfort in a shared pain if that doesn’t sound too cheesy. 

I hope you are finding some days/ hours/minutes of peace in between the pain. x 

I am completely in the same boat here. My mum is 65 and was first diagnosed with bowel cancer in 2015. After being in remission for 2 years she went into hospital to remove tumours from her lungs and two years after that, she had a cough that wouldn’t go away and by the time coronavirus restrictions eased enough for her to go and have a scan, she was told she had metastasis of bowel cancer spreading across her lungs. 
Now she’s been on several types of chemo for over a year and she’s just getting more and more poorly. She’s a very “stiff upper lip” type of person so I didn’t realise the extent of how ill she was until she recently lost her voice and had to get me to speak to her nurses on the phone for her. The nurses spoke about getting my mum “palliative care” and it felt like the rug was pulled from under my feet. The nurse must have sensed my shock because she asked my mum at her next consultation for my number in case I had any questions for her. 

Last week she told me that it was no longer a matter of years for my mum, and while some people get lucky and have a few months longer, some people are equally as unlucky and get fewer months. Either way, we’re looking at around a year left for my mum. It really does feel like half my world has fallen away and I can’t even begin to explain my grief. 
I’m trying really hard to be strong and support my mum with things like claiming her pension and sorting out her will (if anyone knows how to get a will written up cheaply please let me know!) but the most difficult part is not showing that I know about this year timestamp left on my mother’s life. While my dad knows we’re on the later stages of what treatment can be offered and the doctor has said that the cancer is incurable, nobody knows about the timeline because healthcare professionals don’t feel it’ll do my mum any good to be thinking about it. I honestly wish I hadn’t asked. 

But then I suppose knowing how long I’ve got left with my mum will allow me to cherish the time I have and spend as much time with her as possible. I’ve got plans lined up to do things she really wanted to do, like get my graduation photos taken (covid postponed my ceremony till next summer, so I thought photos were the next best thing, and picnics in the park when the weather’s a little better. 
The only thing that gets me is her optimism. She’s applying for a passport and she’s excited to attend me postgraduate ceremony next summer and she’s talking about me buying a house in the future and it kills me that she might never go on holiday again or be strong enough to do anything next summer or be around to see me buy a house or get married. All these milestones are going to be so difficult without her but all I can do is make the time I do have with her as happy and content as possible. 

My therapist said something that might help: it’s okay to be a hippo and wallow in a crappy swamp when you’re in a crappy situation. You’re allowed to feel things, but know that one day you’ll be a sumo (shut up and move on) because coming out of the other end of grief is a huge achievement.
I like to think of it as the duality of Shrek and Donkey. You’re allowed to be grumpy and stay by yourself in your swamp but one day you’ll come out of the other end as Donkey; you might still like visiting the swamp once in a while but your happiness and optimism will return because enjoying life is all you can do. Life is so short and you should feel all your feelings, but don’t let them get in the way of you living.