Sucky Anniversary.

This weekend, 12 months ago, I discovered my Mum had breast cancer.

Tonight, I seem to be falling apart. Always surprises me. I ought to know better, grief has no rules, huh? All it takes is one little thing, can be totally unrelated, and the head is yanked from the sand and off it goes.

All these memories are swirling around my head and I can't seem to stop crying.

I remember her saying "I've got breast cancer" and my world felt as though it had shifted right off it's axis. My head literally spun and I felt like I was dreaming, life didn't feel real. I remember gulping to stop myself sobbing. I remember the look on my Dad's face. The fear. The sad. The fact that he could hardly speak. His voice cracked.

I remember 2 weeks later, her telling me how scared she was. Her tears. For the first time to me, she looked old and tired. And so vulnerable.

Getting drunk and high with my sister to escape.

Reading about the precautions post chemo, the extent that was needed to keep her and anyone else safe from the poison. Scared.

Her screaming when she set the kitchen on fire. The realisation at that moment that things were very wrong. She was not Mum as I knew her.

Her head in a turban. Bald.

Watching the chemo mix - bright red - travel up the line into her arm and wanting to rip it out, yet being so fucking grateful it was there.

Crying so much, needing mild sedation.

Feeling grateful that her odds were so good.

The relief at the end of her treatment cycle.

So much fear.



Thank god it is over. Thank god she was so lucky and caught it early. My heart aches for those who are not as lucky.

My heart hurts tonight. I need vodka.

I'm a master of the universe!

I wrote an email to one of my closest friends this morning, and decided to blog it. Today I am going to my graduation for my Master of Arts (Writing and Literature). I was just reading earlier entries in my blog tagged with masters. lol. I really did struggle to get here!


I have been awake since 4am, just thinking about graduation today, and I have felt really anxious. Its bugging me, I should be excited. I mean, I AM excited as well, but there is anxiety and there is also a LOT of emotion. I think, in writing this, I have an idea why - this degree was my escape through my mums cancer battle. There were nights where I was so fucking scared that I was going to lose her and I just immersed myself in the writing to escape thinking and confronting those thoughts. Mum and I are really close. We talk several times a day, she knows all my secrets. The idea of losing her, if not to the cancer then just her mortality at all, was terrifying. One day, in her chemo cycles - chemo can affect you in terms of making you vague and out of it - I took the kids to visit for the day. Mum was playing with Finn, I had RJ in the study, settling her for a nap. The smoke detector went off, which happens for burnt toast there so I didn't react, it is a sensitive alarm. Suddenly, I heard my Mum just screaming... and thought to myself, 'oh man that's serious screaming' so I bolted out and I saw an eerie red glow, and then realised that the kitchen was on fire. She had left oil on the stove and it had caught. She forgot it was on. Chemo.

Anyway, she was standing there screaming for my dad who was outside somewhere. I had to take over, I just told her to get Finn out so she told Finn to go get my dad, Finn was 5!!! So he is running outside scared and crying calling for his pa... Mum was still screaming for Dad and just panicking, and the kitchen was still on fire. I said to her GO OUT AND COMFORT FINN. And I (thank GOD) found their fire extinguisher and start fighting this stupid fire, which when I squirted it, seemed to jump everywhere and make it worse. I started to freak out a little but just kept squirting the hell out of it all. I got it out just as dad came racing in. The smoke was so thick so quickly, and I remembered RJ was in the study, so I told dad it was out as I literally ran and got RJ out and then went and found and checked on Finn and calmed him... it was the single most terrifying moment of my life. It was an awareness that mum wasn't mum, that she had cancer, that this was reality. It was fucking awful. I had to take valium that night to sleep I was so distressed.

This is irrelevant, and yet not. I think, in graduating, I'm letting go of a bit of denial, and now that mum is okay, its still this confronting scary thing and letting go of a comfort or distraction or a denial is a little scary. Am I making any sense? I guess it is as though the masters was a bit of a security blanket because it blocked dealing with things. Now I have to give it up and its great... but scary too? And obviously, IVF was tough, pregnancy was intense, having a newborn is tough, and I did this degree through those too. So many times I wanted to give up. It took me almost a year longer than it should have. But I toughed it out, and I did it. And here I am. I'm proud of me, for this, more than anything else I have ever done. Big day. Overwhelming.


So, through a mix of emotions, today is a big one. I loved the study required to get me this qualification, I really, really, loved it, I feel I found my passion, it was a bonus that it helped me cope with other stuff - I am sure it is the same for many. So, yes I am tooting my own horn and bragging today, but I promise it won't last TOO long... Stay tuned to see how I am rewarding myself for the slog!

Perspective

The past month has impacted on me in a big way, two related events, yet very separate in my life too. Both involve that insidious C word. Last week, my Mum had her very last radiotherapy treatment. This followed several months of chemotherapy, and surgery for breast cancer. This week, her oncologist has told her he will see her in 3 months, she is done. It is beaten. The war has been won.

How momentous! It has been a very, very, long 8 months since she was diagnosed, many tears, many fears and some very difficult times. She did it though, she made it out the other side, and so have we, with her. It is very overwhelming, and difficult to comprehend that this is the end of it. To say we feel lucky is probably an understatement of the grossest kind.

Yesterday, Mum visited for the day. She still wears her scarf on her head, she is only beginning now to grow her hair back after chemotherapy. We were sitting, talking about a whole lot of things, when my friend posted a picture on twitter. I am not sure if you read Stepford Dreams (if not you ought to!); but my friend Carolyn, who authors this blog, I have known for a few years now. In all of this time, I have known of her best friend Alli and her own fight with cancer.

Yesterday, Stepford Dreams twitpic'd herself and Alli in hospital, it was a beautiful picture, a happy one. It made me smile. Then I looked at my mum, and burst into tears. Alli has not been as lucky as my Mum. I am aching for my friend Carolyn, and at the same time, I feel an appreciation, an incredible deep feeling of being grateful that I cannot express fully in words. I cried and both my Mum and I felt so sad, yet so so lucky.

I think too often, we take for granted, the people in our lives, we complain about the small things, we forget the bigger picture. We forget what matters. We don't realise how well off we truly are. We don't tell people often enough that we love them and that they matter in our lives. Today, I feel exceptionally lucky, but at the same time, a deep and aching sadness for my friend and the nightmare she simply cannot wake up from. I feel useless. There is nothing I can do, and that sucks. Please keep them all in your thoughts and prayers.

So, normally snarky, feisty me, not normally one for emotion or anything that could be construed as 'soppy' just wanted to remind you to count your blessings today, and to remember how much worse things could be.

Mum

I don't blog a great deal about Mums breast cancer because its a fairly private thing, and she is very private also. But without going into details, it has been hard in lots of ways. Mum had a tough week this past week, so it was extremely gratifying to have a great old chat yesterday and really tap into where she was at, how she was feeling and feel as though as much as possible - I really understood and was able to convey that and make her feel understood.

In my own experience, that is fairly invaluable, when someone can truly "get it" and know where you are at, and right when you feel completely alone you suddenly see you are not. It can often save you. It often saved me - and my experiences are nowhere near that intense as hers are right now. Has that ever happened to you?

She and I are very close, she is the one who knows EVERYTHING about me. I can talk to her about anything and everything, things I cannot and would not talk to no one else in the world about, she hears! I am so lucky to have that, and it was really nice for me to be able to feel that maybe for once I could do that in return for her too. The woman is absolutely amazing. Honestly, the strength (cliche, I know, I am wincing even writing it) but really, its impressive stuff.

Halfway through the chemo now, then radiotherapy. After that, cancer can fuck right off for good.

Thinking about Mum

Today is Mums second chemo, does anyone know, is she likely to respond similarly to the previous one, or will there be like an accumulated effect and make it worse? Also, (and I should get these answers from the oncologist later anyway) but, could it be the Doxorubicin causing her pain in the chest around the heart kinda? I refuse to google this for fear of possible dodgy results. I should be patient and ask the experts shouldn't I?

I am feeling a little less affected by today than I was her previous session, but I admit I can think of little else right now than to think of her and where she is right now. I am trying but I can't focus on other things for very long. I did get that fiction finished last night, massive achievement. Only got the essay to revise (which will be a lot of work!) but then masters is done and I just have to wait and hope I pass.

Hmm. Focus lost again. I might try again later!