Skip to main content

Mum's Got Cancer; Part Thirteen

It seems amazing to me that I am writing another post.  

As I rounded the corner at the hospice this morning, walking towards the bay you are in, I held my breath.  I was greeted by smiles and there you were.

More amazingly I said hello and you spoke back!  Mum you are incredible, amazing, an inspiration.

Lying there listening, with Alex and I, to some Graham Kendrick.  We have moved you to your own room to give you some peace and the freedom to leave us when it feels right for you.

In the meantime I am in awe, as a Biologist, that you are still here.  All of the staff are amazed and all we are pleased able to offer you respite.  You aren't in pain, at least we don't think so, and we know you can hear us.

I think you are just catching up on all the sleep you have missed over the years.  All of those early mornings; all of those sleepless nights due to your "hot legs".

We thought we would lose you to the MS but we were wrong.  As you were not defined by Multiple Sclerosis neither are you defined by this.  You are not your cancer.  You are kind and loving and funny and strong, independent and loyal.

I love you


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

100 Sad Days: Day 29 La La La

Not all abuse in a relationship is physical. Just like all illnesses are not obvious. Although they are "mental" it doesn't make them any less significant.   An Open Letter: Your words are often harsh and I let them float over my head. I know it's not you thinking. It's alcohol, it's tiredness, it's money, it's family, it's drugs, its work, it's whatever excuse I decide to label it with to move on. Sometimes they cut so deep. Putting small cracks in my heart that need love to  fill the gaps. When this happens forgiveness takes a little longer.  When it is constant the opposite happens and I pull down the shutters. I stop feeling. I stop caring. I am numb. This is when I want to never wake up.  And then there are the unforgivable things. The venomous words spat from your mouth. Not in anger. Not in rage. Just in hate and apathy.  What do I do with those?  Where do I go from there?

Mum's Got Cancer; Part Four

Can we ask just one thing of you:- Please stop asking me how Mum is.  I know you mean well and you honestly do care; you want to know that she is ok: but we can't tell you that. In fact we are tired of having to repeat ourselves and remind ourselves that Mum isn't going to get better.  That this is it.  That we can't help her but can on;y make her comfortable. Maybe ask how I am, or if there is anything you can do, or just give us a hug.  Maybe just squeeze our shoulder and don't say anyhting.  If we want to talk, I promise, we will.  Sometimes, like my Blog, it is cathartic.  Other times it hurts in a way I cannot explain. The best thing to do is send a message, a text, an email, and if/when we feel like it we will respond.  Forgive us if we see you are calling and cannot take your call.  It is tiring, emotionally, to drag our way through a conversation we do not want to have. We know you care and we don't want to appear rude but...

I Hate Smoking

Let's be honest: it's a mug's game. My main memories of my Granny are of her with a cigarette in hand, of being sent to the "cabin" to buy her mentholated Dunhill. Add to that the memory of my time with my Dad shared always with a cigarette - one after the other. Of the chorus of coughing in the mornings and of now watching him struggle, with COPD, knowing this is a terminal illness that was brought upon himself. Supposedly my Grandma died of old age (but i reckon it was the cancer that got her first) and despite my Dad giving up smoking over eight years ago the years of damage have taken their toll. I chose a path away from cigarettes and I don't mind telling people how stupid I think they are for smoking - friends, family, strangers. We are all touched by cancer at some point and I recently got the all clear after twelve long years of close attention. I am thankful that it was caught before I needed anything other than day treatment and b...