Andrew, who began this thread, sadly died in September 2008, but his friends wished that his thread remain open in his memory, particularly to promote Andrew's idea of 'dancing away cancer' each Friday at 3pm. Please feel free to post your dance tunes every Friday in his memory.
Macmillan admin
Hello everyone,
this is my topic to start and its a question that has been burning around the back of my mind for the last few days.
I always thought that having a small group of very close friends was enough for anyone, ok you always have work colleagues and other acquaintances but the main group of my friends has remained within a steady little group of five people for nigh on the last twenty years. We have shared almost, if not all, of what life can show you over that period and nothing has every served to tear us very far apart for long.
There have always times when partners/other friends/own family have been more important to us and always been times when we are more important to each other and perhaps have taken some of this for granted and assumed that it will always be thus. I have reached the opinion that I have for certain.
Then you get cancer! Things change I suppose but I have cancer and all of a sudden things are important to me that weren't before and they have an impact on others which were not anticipated.
First I need to say that my friends have been great through this initial part of my illness and there is nothing to say that this position is going to change immediately - rather its me that seems to be changing and not them. I am having doubts about my ability to cope with what is happening to me and what may happen in the immediate future, I am doubting my friends willingness to hear what I have to say when they ask that questions each day "How are you?", I don't want to say "OK thanks" each time when I am not OK,
I want to say "it bloody hurts" and "I don't feel well at all" and "I think its really unfair that I have this disease and you don't" (that one really stings in your head and even if its not at all true, sometimes you can't help yourself thinking it even fleetingly).
Then after that I get guilty about having the disease and having those bad thoughts that seem to go along with it all. I keep thinking that I am asking too much of them now in terms of emotional and physical help and what if their well runs dry later when I need them even more than I do now and they have nothing left to give me. Then I think that that is a really selfish "me, me me" attitude to have and that gets me really down - can you be guilty about a guilty thought which in itself is only a selfish thought about feeling guilty - just how big a knot is that one to unravel.
Anyway before I drive all away completely with this "hymn to the depressed" that brings around the original thought I had;
- can you use up and wear out your friends and family with this thing before you need them most?
Thanks for reading (if you managed to get through the dirge without laughing too much) and any thoughts are appreciated.
Cheers
Andrew
Well, it,s certainly taken some time, but I think I've finally worked out how to post. Hopefully! Site updates are most definitely unfair on the technologically incompetant, ie; me. There must be some short cuts that I just haven't found yet.
Anyway, my song for today is 'In The Name Of Love' U2.
Really hope this ends up where it should, but if it doesn't, many apologies to anyone whose blog or discussion I've just invaded.
Love to all,
Anne.x
I am bit late with this
my song is Things have only got to get better well i think that how it goes
love Janice xxx
I am VERY late! But my tune has to be, like Janice's, 'things can only get better now', in HOPE that they do, in more than one way!
love to you all..........xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Moomy
I too am so very late, I will join Janice and and will sing this at the top of my voice, can't put a link on at the moment, but I will not be beaten, I will work it out eventually.
THINGS CAN ONLY GET BETTER, CAN ONLY GET BETTER.
Love to you all
Maryxxxxxx
Today is the third anniversary of Andrew's death. I had to really think about that as it really doesn't seem that long. It means that this thread has been kept going for three years without him, which is pretty good going, I think!
Many, many thanks, on his behalf, to anyone who has ever posted here. Andrew was always slightly thrilled that anyone replied to, or commented on his posts, and hugely grateful for all the support he received here.
I thought it was about time I told Andrew's story properly. Anyone who hasn't read the start of this thread won't have the faintest idea why we post songs every Friday, and this is far too long a thread for anyone to read from the beginning. Also he has shared a lot about what was going on in his heart and mind during his last year, but perhaps not everything about the full set of circumstances he faced. So here goes.
Sometime in August of 2007, I received a phone call from my brother who was worried about certain symptoms he was experiencing. He had found blood in his urine and wanted to know what he should do. I told him to get to the doctor as soon as possible. I thought he'd probably got some form of infection.
I called him back after a week, as I'd not heard from him. He said he'd been to the doctor and had been referred for further tests. At this stage I'm pretty sure neither of us had any idea that there was anything seriously wrong. Another week or two went by and the news was bad. He actually went on his own to see the consultant because he never seriously thought that anything could be that wrong. Even the fact that he was seeing a consultant nephrologist failed to ring any alarm bells. So when he rang to tell me the news that evening, I was totally unprepared. He had a large kidney tumour and secondaries in his lung and peri-aorta. I'm sure you can guess the rest of that evening's events.
Anyway, the following day, when I'd got it together somewhat, we had to decide what do and who to tell. We didn't have much in the way of family, several cousins and elderly aunts and uncles. We thought it best to leave telling them until we had a firm grasp of the options open to him. But others did have to know. I think telling his friends was the hardest thing he had to do at that stage. Mostly they were upset, but tried to be optimistic. Telling work was equally hard, but it all got done. Andrew thought that a cancer diagnosis was a bloody good reason for indefinite sick leave, He honestly thought he'd go back to work after he had his kidney removed, so never considered making long term plans for re-distributing his work load or re-allocating his clients.
He worked in the financial services sector of a major high street bank. He was the equivalent of a bank manager, having a team of people working under his direction. He had risen through the ranks, having started on the very bottom rung at the age of eighteen. He had good A Levels, but had no desire to go on to university as I had done. Having worked for so long in all sorts of different departments, he was very well known and news certainly travelled fast. I think he was touched at the concern expressed by all sorts of people he had worked with over the years.
He now had a date for having his kidney removed, and an idea of the treatment plan afterwards. Even now we were still optimistic.
End of part one! This is harder than I anticipated. More to follow soon. Thanks for reading,
love, Anne,x
Evening Anne
I just wanted to send you a big (((hug))) - I didn't know Andrew very well.....And I certainly didn't know anything of his story...... So thank you for sharing chapter 1 with us........
Time soon passes doesn't it - but it is not the great healer of souls that many would have us believe.......
Love and comforting (((hugs))) for you
Dot xxx
Next came the operation. I felt so sorry for him when I left him in that hospital bed the evening before his op. We had talked through the procedure with the doctor earlier on and she made it seem fairly straight forward. There was a chance he would have to lose his spleen as well, which was a bit of a surprise, but apart from that, we thought we understood all of the ramifications. I went home and phoned relatives. Some difficult conversations followed, but I was glad to be having them rather than be in Andrew's shoes, I sent him silly text messages for as long as I could.
The following morning he had the op. It actually went well apart from one component. He was supposed to get an epidural as part of post-op pain relief. It was given, but it didn't work. When I rang up later that day to see how things were going I was put through to the ward. I spoke to the nurse on intensive care and could hear someone groaning in the background. I remember thinking 'Why don't they sort that poor man out?' Then I realised that it was Andrew making that noise. I was really shocked and ready to drive over. I was reassured that an anaesthetist (sp!) was on the way. Three phone calls later she had been and he was finally sleeping and not in pain. I hate that feeling of helplessness when there's nothing you can do.
The next day when I did go over, he was quite comfortable, if a bit battered. He was still very drowsy, however, but I was relieved to see him recovering. Actually managed to talk to the surgeon, or one of them, who tried to explain the failure rate of epidurals, but I still wonder if they simply didn't do it correctly.
And he kept his spleen!
The following day he was much better and they had had him out of bed. He decided he was ready for a cigarette but would have to attempt a total of about 200metres to get to the nearest exit. I tried to put him off. but he insisted. So off we go with all his various drips attached. It took us about 10 minutes to travel that 200 metres, but he did it. He only managed two puffs of the ciggie before he felt he really must lie down. The return journey was much quicker with the aid of a wheelchair I found near the entrance.
That 200 metres became a standard by which to measure his recovery over the next few days. When he could do it in seconds rather than in minutes, he was well enough to go home.
Anne, Big ((((((((((((hugs))))))))))
I had huge respect for Andrew, and was privileged to speak to him on the phone. Because of him still being registered with the FSA he offered to give information and questions to ask when Caz was applying for mortgage again with her housemate.
I didn't need to call him then but when a few of us hadn't heard from him and became concerned, I trawled back in my p/ms and found his number, phoned and woke him from a really almost comatose state (took 2 calls), he'd fallen asleep in a difficult and uncomfortable position and seemed to have lost a day. We chatted while he woke properly and became more orientated and I made him promise to get help.
My tune today, may not be able to actually dance though, think the hospital might think I'd gone mad! It's from Caz's CD again.....Carol Jarvis'.....'Smile' ....the tune composed by her housemate, 'Principal Uncertainty' (see her web site if anyone wishes to buy it, www.caroljarvis.com
Moomy
Good morning all.
Moomy, I didn't realise you'd been in contact. Sorry you caught him on a bad day. He was quite a nice chap when fully conscious!
My song for today is going to be 'Under My Thumb' the Stones. It always reminds me of fairgrounds and summer hols.
Have a lovely weekend everyone.
love, Anne,x
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