Tuesday, 1 January 2008

It's 2008

So, christmas has gone, and the new year's here.
Happy new year? To be honest, I'm a bit sceptical about that one!

I wish I'd have appreciated those carefree christmasses more.
Those christmasses where I could laugh, joke, eat, drink, with my family and friends, without any more pressing worries than going back to work next week.

Because, you see, no matter how much I told myself and other people, that I was going to enjoy the time with my family, because this will probably be my last christmas. No matter how much I didn't want to think about how cancer's ruling my life, I did think about it.
Every minute of every day, I thought about the fact that I probably wont be here with them, next christmas.

I've been taking a cocktail of painkillers and anti-sickness medication, just to help me face christmas dinner (which I could hardly eat any of).
Constant nausea and pain, don't a merry christmas make.

If anyone out there is thinking "What a waste. There are people far worse off than you. You should be grateful you have such great family and friends. And should have just forgotten about cancer for a while, and enjoyed christmas." I challenge you to live life in my shoes, and see if you feel any differently to how I feel.

Last year, my doctor told me I'd most likely die next year (he actually said six to nine months. Which is now four to seven months).
Next year is now this year. And that's frighteningly close.

I've been in my flat for almost six months now. That time's just flown by. It's no time at all.
Six months is nothing. It goes far too quickly.

I've been with my other half for almost two years. We met when I'd just finished my first course of chemo. That was before my cancer became 'terminal'.
I had hope for the future. We had hope for the future.
Now, two years seems like no time at all. It's gone far too quickly. I want a lifetime with him.. my lifetime and his lifetime. I'm furious with cancer, for cutting this short.
Because even while I'm still alive, it's being cut short.
I'm tired alot. I have no energy. I feel ill alot of the time now.
We can't do the things we should be doing.. things I want us to be doing. It all just seems so unfair.

When I look at him sometimes, I can see in his eyes, what this is doing to him, and it breaks my heart. I know he tries to hide it, just like I try to hide it. But it's there.
I can hardly bring myself to look in his eyes now.

I look at my family, when it's mentioned. And while they seem more willing to listen, when it's mentioned now, I can see how broken they look.

And I think of all the other people, in similar and worse situations. And I wonder how they deal with this happy new year.

It's 2008, Part Deux

Having just read Minerva's blog.. a blog I visit regularly.. I came across a link to Jenny O's blog.
I found this post, which makes me feel almost ashamed of how I feel..

"My aunt Sylvia died this morning. She told her (grown) kids to go to
school, asked for a drink of water, and took her last breath. She had end-stage
pancreatic cancer and multiple myeloma, and she was at home, in a hospital bed
in her living room.

We lived our lives at a great distance. Sylvia lived in Texas (San Antonio,
Houston, Kerrville), ran a balloon delivery business, married a few men (not at
the same time), and loved fiercely. She was the strongest and most indomitable
person I ever knew. The way she lived with cancer taught me how to do it: You
live. Just keep living. Keep doing things you want to do. If your bones are
brittle, go to a water park and ride all the slides, and then take meds and
sleep all the next day. If people you love are there, spend every ounce of your
energy laughing with them, and then take meds and sleep all the next day. Don't
be "sick" with cancer. It's an annoyance. It thinks it's in charge, so let it
think so, but quietly go about your own business and don't let it stop

Until it's too strong. And then, recognize that you're tired, and lie back
and marvel at the fresh, clean taste of cold water, and listen to songs that
have always moved you, and wake up a few times a day to smile at the faces of
the loving ones who surround you. Go home, and have your dog lie on the bed with
you, and open the blinds each day to watch your own neighborhood and your own
yard. Sleep, while your heart keeps beating and beating, while your nails turn
dark and then pink again, while your breathing gets ragged and then smooth
again.And then, one morning, speak softly to your children, and


Anonymous said...

I'm certain the writer had her dark days too - and felt the same as you. Don't feel bad about your sadness - but also don't wallow in it. My friend keeps telling me to take it one day at a time. When that doesn't work, I take it one hour at a time.

Minerva said...

Don't feel ashamed - there is no need to.. You are bound to feel far angrier, she is much older than you are..and she has experienced many of the things you long to...

You are perfectly entitled to feel angry, sorry for yourself and distraught - you ARE in an utterly shitty situation. It is really important for you and those around you that you get those feelings out and feel in no way judged, because you aren't... not at all, just loved.


Anonymous said...

Dee, your words are NEVER judged, only admired for your strength and courage.

Whatever you feel... let this be your outlet - it's important you get those feelings out.

I've asked over and over WHY things happen the way they do?? I'm not sure any of it will ever make sense to us while we are here on this earth.... so all I have to offer is a cyber shoulder to cry on, arms to give cyber hugs, and ears to listen....

so you RANT AWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anonymous said...

Dee, whatever happens, it's not your fault, but let us hug you, put our arms around your shoulders and tell you that you're wonderful and that we love you.

Anonymous said...

Hiya Dee.
What a wonderful person you are! Everyone feels angry and upset sometimes and you are no different. You have every right to feel how you feel and no-one would ever dream of judging you. I've read the whole of your blog and am amazed by your honesty and courage. I now make a point of examining myself ( which I never really did before )and its all thanks to you.
Love to you and your family.
Cyberangel n Family xx

Anonymous said...

I can't imagine that anyone reading your words and following your story would EVER judge. Please don't be ashamed about how you feel. I also admire your words and welcome your ranting.

Please know that there is someone else out there who appreciates you sharing your story. I am sending you hugs,

Anonymous said...

Just a note to let you know you are being thought of!

Lisa said...

Hey babe. Laying in bed thinking of you and wishing it would all go away. You up for me visiting over the weekend? Phil better now but I would rather come on my own so we can snuggle. Love you more than cottage cheese.
Lisa x

Jenny said...

Hi Dee--
I just found this post and I'm feeling bad that my post made you feel bad! Believe me, Sylvia had plenty of days when she was angry or upset--but she was also the queen of denial, and it's hard to say that that's better than feeling self-pity, in my book. In many ways she was lucky, because she went from being very functional and "healthy" (able to ignore the cancer much of the time) to being at the end stage in a very short time. So she didn't have to cope with the kinds of surgeries and difficulties that it sounds like you have.

Anyway, I believe that it's much more important to have an authentic experience than to have a falsely cheery one. And remember that a eulogy (which is what I was writing) is always going to gloss over some of the less inspiring moments--but they're still there...!

Hope you are doing well. I'm thinking of you.