Chapter 9

Sending this chapter out today, I am feeling very sad, as we have just lost another friend to this shit disease. Les Jordan:  always so kind to me and Chaz, you will be missed by lots of people.

I tried to go to the coffee morning at the hospice. When I got there, I sat in the car in the car park feeling really nervous and not wanting to take that step and go inside. Eventually I talked myself into getting out of the car and I walked through the hospice doors. But I had an overwhelming feeling that I still find difficult to explain. I turned around and quickly paced back to my car and sat inside and cried.

My personal confidence was low, and I struggled to go into shops etc on my own. I had that fear and feeling of vulnerability, and I did not want to show that weakness to acquaintances whom I might bump into in the supermarket.

I finally had my sixth chemo. I was feeling generally exhausted, and so felt really pleased that this was my last one. I had a reduced dose of chemo as per protocol following my blood levels.

I felt so low in the days that followed. It seemed to me that life was passing me by, and that I was too tired to do anything about it. I wanted to return to work but that seemed out of my reach at the moment. I had to wait six weeks for a PET scan, to make sure that the chemo was definitely out of my system, because it would give a truer picture of what was to happen next. I cried almost every day. I was jealous of Wes and Chaz getting on with everyday life and both of them being able to go to work. Why the fuck was this happening to me? Why had cancer chosen me? I have always been a believer in things happening for a reason, but I was struggling to find the reason with this shit.

I spoke with Gail about how low I felt, and how I was really struggling at the moment. She listened, and advised where possible. I made a decision to try antidepressants. Gail will probably never realise how important that chat was and how much it meant to me. She is one special lady, someone you can be totally honest and open with, and know you will never be judged. And it was nice not to put the added worries onto my Mum or Dad, as they would worry in a different way as I am their daughter. The fact was that I was now in this limbo state – I didn’t know whether I was in remission, or if I should go back to work, or even if I was going to have to have more chemo… Aghhhh! I was out of control of my own life!!

Gail and Simon wrote us a poem.

I rang the Doctor’s and managed to get in on their afternoon scheme called, ‘Wait and be Seen.’ I was called through for my appointment – and unfortunately felt the GP’s immediate reaction of, ‘Oh, she has a chemo hat on.’ It was a sudden change in attitude that I have felt many times. I found this particular reaction a little sad, as the ‘caring profession’ should be about treating people as equals. I explained to her and her student how I felt very low; that I felt like a ticking time bomb; that I found myself in unusual circumstances and unable to cope with everyday life; that I also felt angry with the people I loved, because they did not have to be dealing with what I had to. They started me on Sertraline, a small dose and one that would eventually increase. It was crazy how I found this a difficult thing to admit, that I had to have tablets to help me through this time. Somehow I felt weak, but I knew that this was not the case and it was no different to me taking tablets for my underactive thyroid.  A quote I read seemed so relevant; “You don’t know pain until you’re staring at yourself in the mirror with tears in your eyes, begging yourself to just hold on and be strong. THAT is pain.”

August; time for the Barnstock, Brewin and Gould festival. I was so excited, as I knew it would be so much fun, because they always put on the most amazing and generous party. A fantastic night was had by all, and there were surprisingly no broken bones caused by that little thing called ‘gin.’

Also in this month we had the invite to Stacey and Mark’s surprise wedding. I was overwhelmed that we had been included in this small service for two people; that gesture meant the world to me and clearly I to them. I was so excited.

We were invited to an Awards Evening for raising money for cancer research, so we all went and laughed loads and had a fun time.

We then had my ‘baby’s’ 21^st birthday! I wasn’t sure how this has come around, but here we were. I organised a meal with friends and family – so proud of my boy.

This was also about the time that I became addicted to ‘Baby Shark’ – which was so annoying… I was unable to get the song out of my head when drunk, and I did my own version, and in my drunken frame of mind thought it was good to share it on social media… Drinking usually went one of two ways, making me happy or extremely sad.

My old friends, Sharon, Claire and Jeanette booked for us to stay together in a cottage near my home, as they understood my fears of being too far from home at the moment. We had a fantastic weekend, with a mix of laughter and tears. All very beautiful supportive people.

It was Sharon’s birthday that actual weekend and mine later in the week, so the girls had brought cake and fizz. I was truly spoilt for my birthday; my standing joke was that it could be my last!! My friends told me off for using this phrase… I think it is funny, and honest reality, as it could be said for any one of us. Harry, my 3 year-old friend, took me for a meal; he choose the venue – McDonald’s, love him

As we were due to go to Spain (again!), Ade and Jewels kindly gave us some Euros, and little Yvonne spoilt us as she always did when we went on holiday.

I had my PET scan the week of my birthday. It was originally booked for my actual birthday, but it was cancelled due to some technical issue.  It was strange going for my second PET scan, as the previous time it was to see how far the disease had spread and this time it was to see if I was in remission.

We went off to Spain for a week. We had hoped to take the little man, but it wasn’t meant to be on this occasion.  At the airport we had the obligatory pint; Wes and I giggled, as I had said we need to go for our ‘hereditary’ pint… I mixed up so many words because of ‘chemo brain’!!

It was a wonderful break at Wes’ parents as always. We met some new friends, Al and Carol, who were both beautiful and funny people. It was always lovely when we went into the local village for Cortado, as Linda and Perry (the locals) are always very pleased to see us. We spent some gorgeous days at the beach, and then had a driving adventure that Simon decided to take us on, with sheer drops… I was petrified and quiet; I’m not sure if that was his way of getting some peace. I have to hand it to him though, he was an excellent driver and it certainly took my mind off the cancer!!