Mental Alert

12/05/2015

I have been asked lately where is my blog, seems like some of you are missing my ramblings in the cancer world.  All I can really say is that this stretch is mentally challenging.  

Thanks to some time out at the beach, anti depressants, a wine now and again, and Luke and Christine being there for me when I spiral downward, this trip is harder.  The waiting...the when, the if, the uncertainty...all challenging and I'm not really that happy about it.  

Isn't it strange that given something physical, like physical treatment of chemo and radiation, that when it stops, it feels like the safety net has gone. The hormone pills are taken daily but who knows if they are doing their job.  So I've gained 3kg and I have spots, but I'm going to carry on with them.

It is now three months since I was told 'when not if' and it isn't any easier as I sit here today.  I spiral downwards when I'm alone or get over tired.  I'm waiting for that ache or something to appear.  My body feels odd, just odd, and I can't put my finger on it.  Is is psychosomatic or is something really occurring within my body...I'm anxious waiting.  Will there come a day when I'm not anxious and I can breathe a sigh of relief.

My mum has been really ill with septicaemia these last 10 days.  Sitting with her in hospital and watching her decline and then improve has been a roller coaster.  My sister Jan and husband Rob have been there every step of the way with Mum.  I am so grateful that they are there for her and have her best interests at heart.  And for Mum's grandchildren and great grandchild to visit gave her such a lift.

But I want my Mum, I want to be able to pick up the phone and tell her anything and everything.  I can't imagine her not being here.  At one point, when I was told this time round 'when not if', she said to be "We'll go together".  That's how Mum is.  She would do anything for her children.

So I get fatigued - yes I had a kip on the office floor last week - but I'm doing my best to earn a living, pay the bills and have a coffee out at the weekend.  Life is simple. It  has to be.  Thank goodness I can live vicariously with work stories through my headphones at work. 

I am being challenged spiritually.  It has waned somewhat and I don't know why.  But I'm not going to fret.  There are so many out there who are praying for me and others like me.  I think I am tired of trying so hard.

So that's it in a nutshell.  I'm still here, still working, sleeping, eating and driving Hazel with my foot to the floor.  So glad we got her when we did.  She is FUN.

Low Days

18/04/2014

It was explained to me that the whole cancer experience is a roller coaster of all the senses. This week was emotionally and physically tough.

I headed home to Matamata for a cry and a hug on Sunday with Mum. I didn't know that when I got out the car I was going to fall in her arms and shed tears. She said "I just want to take your hurts away" and I said I wanted her to "kiss and make it better".

Monday I was in bed all day. The body separated itself from the head and just went blah and would not, could not budge out of bed. Maybe I haven't drunk enough this 2nd chemo round. I am now trying Epsom Salt baths to see if I can detox the chemicals out. 

Each chemo round is about learning how to manage the chemicals that are rushing around the body. I guess I may have been a bit cocky after the 1st round and it going so well. Note to self - Chemotherapy is not a walk in the park, Andrea.

This week I failed miserably and I became sad. I have not been great company. I have pushed many away because I didn't want to impose my morose behaviour on others. I have not been able to lift myself out of the doldrums. I still put in some good hours at work but it was a struggle. I have shed buckets. Wayne has been my shoulder to cry on. He is so gentle, kind, loving - just holds me as I sob. He just keeps saying "let it out, let it go, this is good".

Please - I'm saying this not to invoke sympathy. There's plenty of others who are going through/ have been through this experience and know what I'm saying, but haven't told a soul. They have just taken the bull by the horns, stiff upper lip and got on with it. Well me, I'm just sharing this whole gambit of the cancer experience from where I am sitting.

This raw, vulnerable, bald human being is not someone I recognise in the mirror. I feel like I am being stripped bare to the core and I have so far to go, that I am not going to recognise the person at the end of all this. Who will arise from this whole experience.

Thank goodness for the arrival of Luke and Christine. To have their presence around me gives me joy. They remind me I am still a mum, a mother-in-law; I am wise, loving, giving, still speak gobbly-gook, funny, nurturing - they help me remember me.

So how did I forget all that this week. Well my wise niece "Oh auntie, tough once those steroid highs wear off isn't it? This is so normal...it passes".

Oh Lord, really, is that what this week was all about? This just confirmed again, those chemicals are going to send me roller coasting off the scale now as the next two rounds get stronger.

Hang in there with me guys, this is a hell of a ride...

Thank you this week for the beautiful kindnesses from:

• Jean, our neighbour, for coconut milk
• My angel of a neighbour for an amazing Entertainment Events Book for the year and wine
• Distant cousins for the beautiful flowers