Chapter 7

We decided to look for a new home as we needed more space and so we could be a little bit nearer Wes’ little boy. We had seen a couple of houses that we liked, and one that was definitely a favourite. We arranged to go and view three of them. I wore my wig for the second time since I had lost my hair, as I did not want the estate agent to know I had cancer in case they then thought we were not suitable tenants – a stupid feeling, I know, but I could not help the way my mind was working at that time. We loved the very first house we went to see, so we had coffee locally and filled out the required application forms to be considered for the house.

We were due to go in a few days to Wes’ parents in Spain; on the farm it was ‘apricot picking time.’ The day before we were due to leave, we had a phone call to say that we had been accepted for the house. This was just perfect timing – exciting times ahead!

In Spain, we worked hard picking apricots. I absolutely thoroughly enjoyed it all, and for a few days was able to forget that I had cancer. In my mind I told myself the pain and the fatigue were due to working hard, and not to cancer! We also had a well-deserved afternoon at the seaside; the sun was beating down and I was able to allow myself to get lost in my mind.

After our short but much needed break, we headed back home. This was a place I just did not want to be as it meant a return back to reality… The bonus was seeing both Chaz and also Wes’ little boy. I cried the night before chemo; I just did not want to cope again with the joint pain, sickness, pure fatigue and the soreness in my veins after the chemo had been administered. Because I had had that break and was feeling a little bit better, I just didn’t want to have the next dose. I guess a big part was that I knew what was coming, whereas when I had my first chemo, it was very much the unknown.

Off we went for our fourth session. They had to try several times to put the cannula in, as my veins were collapsing – another pleasant side effect. We passed the time playing chess and chatting with staff.

The first days after chemo were not too bad, and we busied ourselves packing up the house that Chaz and myself had been in for nineteen years. There were so many memories, but I could not wait to share a new home with Wes, Chaz and his little one. We moved into our new place over the course of three days, with a trip to Ikea for meatballs! We worked really hard to turn the house into a ‘home,’ and also to sort the garden out. I was exhausted but so happy.

I attended a course for cancer patients called, ‘Look good, Feel good.’ This was all about learning how to use makeup when you felt shit and had lost your hair. For those of you who don’t know me, I am not a ‘make-up kind of girl.’ I dreaded going and sitting with other people that had the traits of a cancer patient – no hair, no eyebrows, and the headscarf, as it makes it all the more real. It actually ended up being a fun afternoon, and I was given loads of free goodies, and then it was home for tea with Nan and Wes’ little one.

My sister was really struggling to come to terms with what was happening to me, and she often rang me, and was very tearful on the phone. She was finding it all

extremely difficult to deal with.

The following day Mum came over to help me with sorting out the garden, and Wes power-washed the patio.

At one point, as I looked over to him and he smiled at me, I began to cry uncontrollably. I felt this overwhelming sadness; I did not know how long I would share our new home, my eyelashes had fallen out and I felt so ugly I didn’t even look like me in the mirror… It was just such a difficult day, I fucking hated this disease!! Mum and Wes took turns in holding me. I knew it upset them both seeing me like this, as I had always tried to stay positive and strong. Charlotte very kindly came around the next day and gave me a lesson in putting on false eyelashes. She was very patient.

I worried so much about Wes and Chaz if the worst were to happen, as neither of them were good at talking about the situation, especially to me. I was reassured however that Chaz spoke to Kelly, his Dad, Wes and the girls from work. I was very conscious of including Wes’ family, as I know that they are his main support network and a very close, caring family. Wes and I agreed to put our names down for counselling to help us through this difficult stage, and to make sure we were supporting each other as best as we could.

We were due to meet friends from work; I didn’t feel my best and was vomiting in the hedge. Wes asked if I wanted to cancel, but instead I took a bowl in the car. I was not going to allow this cancer to win. I’d already had to miss out on too many events, including my cousin’s wedding.

I was given an appointment to see the consultant as he wanted to discuss the CT results in further detail with me. He could no longer see the tumour on the lining of the stomach, and the tumour on the intestinal wall had shrunk slightly. I did have a small growth on the spleen that he believed to be cancerous, a cyst on the liver he believed was benign, and all the cancer in pelvis was contained to that area. The chemo was apparently working…

We then discussed the plan. It would be to have two more chemo sessions, followed by a PET scan – but only once my body was six weeks clear of chemo, in order not to have any false negatives. I felt pleased with this appointment as it was mainly positive news.

The following day we went out for lunch with friends, and I received a phone call from my GP surgery. The doctor asked for my permission to refer me to the Palliative Community Team. I was so confused as yesterday I had been told chemo was working. I agreed anyway, and when I came off the phone I got myself upset. After talking it through with Wes and my friends, I rang the doctor’s back and told them of my confusion. They told me the referral was for ‘symptom control.’ That made more sense.

We had a visit from our boss, as Wes was due to return to work, and my Dad and Karen came to see us too. I left Wes chatting with the boss, and I went outside with Dad and Karen. It was lovely to catch up with them, just as it was with our boss. As she left, she said to Dad and Karen, “See you soon!” I said straightaway, “I hope not, because if you see them soon that will be at my funeral!!”