Are friends and family ever enough?

Christmas 2007 was hard. Andrew was convinced it would be his last. I was in complete positive and upbeat mode, (otherwise known as denial). We were extra generous with the presents and ate out for Christmas lunch. After Christmas we hit the sales with a vengence, well he did...I was still on my usual income. It was fun though, albeit tinged with a sort of desperation.

By this time Andrew had got into a sort of routine with the meds. The ups and downs of Sutent were becoming familiar and we both felt that the often taxing side effects were worth the largely positive results. The major fly in the ointment was his ever increasing back pain. Pain relief was getting to be a problem. Eventually a scan revealed a hugely enlarged lymph node very close to his spine, that was most likely pressing on nerves. There wasn't a lot that could be done so visits to a pain specialist and a physiotherapist ensued. They did help somewhat, but Andrew had to live with alot of pain, and managing that pain would become a major factor in his daily life.

Morphine in the form of MSG tablets, topped up with oramorph became a feature of both our lives. Trips out had to be carefully planned and accidental overdoses watched out for. There were incidents that I remember when he got it wrong, too much or too little, like slowly falling asleep over lunch in a pub. had to kick him under the table to wake him up. And worst of all when the pain got out of control and involved late night calls to the doctor and trips to A&E. I got only too familiar with sunrises during this time.

It was also during this time that he discovered the Macmillan site. He lurked for a while then decided to start his own thread.

Andrew's walking was getting steadily worse. He had been given a zimmer frame and elbow crutches. His sleep was poor and he was finding his day to day life more problematic. Despite this, he remained mostly positive. The MacMillan site was a huge help to him now. Having the ability to talk to people facing the same or similar difficulties did him the world of good. Our father had died of cancer, and I had lost my best friend to breast cancer a year before Andrew's diagnosis, but apart from these, no-one in his immediate circle had anything close to a serious illness and despite their support, he did feel isolated.

I know he resented his position. There is a strange element of personal responsibility attached to some cancers. That somehow one's personal habits and lifestyle, one's environment or ancestry have played a part in acquiring this disease. This is not always the case, but I know he felt that he must have done something wrong, or not done something right and was being punished. There was also the feeling of unfairness. I got the brunt of this feeling occasionally. How come he had the cancer and I didn't? How come other people remained perfectly healthy despite taking a lot less care of themselves than he did?

These were questions without any satisfactory answers, of course. In the end, it's often down to sheer bloody bad luck, a difficult concept to get one's head around when one is suffering and others are not. I did understand where he was coming from, but dealing with these feelings was tricky at times.

Until his medicines were under control he had been unable to drive. Whereas this may not seem to be a huge hardship to some of us, to Andrew it was a massive obstacle. He had his dream car and it was stuck in the garage. Exquisite torture to him. There was light at the end of this particular tunnel, though. A scan was booked and if all was well he would be able to drive again.

Unfortunately, all wasn't well. We got called to an oncologists appointment far quicker than was normal. The results we were given weren't entirely surprising, but they did throw a large spanner in the works. The back pain he had been experiencing wasn't solely due to post operative pain and enlarged lymph nodes; they had found yet more secondaries on three vertebrae in his lower back.

It's Friday and time to post your tune for 'dancing the c**p out of cancer' at 3pm in honour and memory of a wonderful man, Andrew.

My tune today has to be the title track of the CD 'Smile' by Carol Jarvis, profits all go to Macmillan

I found the thread! Probably more due to Moomy acting as pathfinder than my own skills, but anyway....

My song for today will be 'A Horse With No Name' and I can't remember who sang it. I knew yesterday when I heard it on the radio, but it's gone now.

Have a lovely weekend all.

love, Anne.x

Hi, my Friday tune is Truly, Madly, Deeply by Savage Garden, play it loud and proud and sing along! I just have.  lots of love people, Julia x

Evening all,

My song for today is 'Luther Vandross - Dance with my father again'. http://youtu.be/dgLHVi40Gc8

Thinking of you all.

Love Maryxxxx

HI there sorry its taken a while to come on line it was hard to understand well my song this week is smile and i do hope you are all as well as can be much love liz xxxxxxxxx

So the next step was deemed to be radiotherepy. It was to be specific to to cancer on the vertebrae. It was apparently not possible for the rest. Funily enough, the most perplexing problem surrounding this was how to get him there. I am a teacher and my boss was being very good in allowing me some flexibility, but every day for a whole week was simply too much to ask. Fortunately his friends came to the rescue. Between us we arranged to do a day each.

My day was Thursday. By now Andrew knew the routine and I just tagged along. A lot of it was sitting in waiting rooms, but the people I met there were fantastic. This was the first time I came across this, but it became one of the defining features of my experiences of Andrew's illness; people wanting to tell their stories.

Over the next few months I was to spend many hours in waiting rooms and common rooms and almost every time there was someone who wanted to share their story. i still remember most of them and wonder what happened to them. Some of them were scared, some philosophical, some angry and resentful. I found I didn't really have to say anything, just listen. I still think this was a bit of a priviledge.

When Andrew was on the table, I was in the control room and I could see the damage the cancer had done to his spine. It was terribly bent, no wonder he was in such pain. Hopefully the radiotherapy would halt the progress, but I couldn't see how his spine would recover from the damage already done.

Ooh, it's different again. At least you can see the previous post now. An improvement, especially for those of us who's memories can wipe completely during the five seconds it takes to press 'reply'.

My song for today is 'Where Have All The Cowboys Gone?' by Paula Cole.

Have a lovely weekend everyone. (Especially those who appreciate that it's half term!!)

love, Anne.x

My song today is/was a favourite of our son when very young, he's gone on holiday (much needed after all his help supporting Caz and all of us through that month in hospital) 'Puff the Magic Dragon'