Friday, September 25, 2009

The worst week that was......

Firstly an apology, I've not posted anything for a while and the simple reason is I've not understood how to write this post. So sorry for not posting and sorry if this doesn't flow very well.

After my stint in hospital and then the worst chemo I've had I was pretty shattered, just tired of the process, of the drugs, the feeling pants, looking like a warmed over turd and being tired and a bit ratty all the time.

Our anniversary was wonderful, a glimmer of normality in a starless night, it was the start of up. Cancer for me and everyone who knows me is a roller coaster full of ups downs and round and round. The problem is it's like the old coaster at Alton Towers which ran in the dark, you have no idea which way is next.

The day after our anniversary meal dad took the girls and Wend to Shrewsbury station (I'll explain in a minute) and I stayed at home waiting for the district nurse to come and give me a blood boosting injection. Wendy and the girls were going to Anita's for a well deserved holiday and a bit of normality. The idea behind Shrewsbury (say shrew not shrow) was it's kind of half way and it was a whole lot cheaper than going all the way. Also changing trains in Birmingham new street with two small children and a case which she could probably fit it was not Wendy's idea of fun! Mine either.

I was hoping to go with them in the car to the station but I knew it'd be an emotional farewell, the nurse coming to give me an injection was a cowards way out of the public show of emotion. So I did it on the street instead! I knew they'd have a great time, playing with the dog and the cousins and going to the beach and just having a change of scenery would be so important for them all, especially for Wend.

Wendy is an incredible human being, not big in stature but massive in heart and determination. It is her that has picked me up so many times when I have fallen, mentally and physically. It's her that gives me the strength to carry on, to be me.

I was a weird teenager, I was known as Roger Hart's son or Viv Hart's brother. Now the reference to dad is fair but to be known throughout secondary school by your younger sisters brother was frustrating. Whether it was because I loved the infernal combustion engine more than football or I didn't wear the right clothes or what I have no idea but I wasn't a happy person at school. Leaving school gave me new friends but I still hung around with the old crowd which did nothing for my development.

Years passed and I saw the friends for what they were, not friends at all but a group of people who would never change. They'd drink in the same pub, live in the same area, support the same teams and their kids would do the same. So the cycle continues.

I didn't know what I wanted but I knew I didn't want the same as them. So by accident more than design I went looking for something different. I found a different group of people, who turned out to be the same but with different labels and different faces but the same blinkered outlook on life. It was fun for a while but kind of empty, getting drunk, going home (alone) and then doing the same thing the next night.

Then Wend came along, a true breath of fresh air, a young lady who'd grown up in the country and had moved to Sheffield to follow her dream of being a paediatric nurse. She was adaptable, determined and downright stubborn at times. I knew I'd met my future, two months after meeting I asked her to marry me, I don't think anyone expected it but I didn't care. If I let this person go I knew that I'd regret it for the rest of my life.

Yes we've had good days and bad and we've said the odd cross word to each other but it's because I love her. I love the way that we end up laughing at inappropriate things, the way that she's so honest, how stubborn she can be (especially with water fights, just don't. I did warn you!), how when it's cold she disappears into one of my jumpers and curls up on the sofa with a cup of tea. So many reasons, yet she is the one person that sees the real me all the time. The me that is hurting, that is tired to the point of exhausted, that shouts at his kids for no reason other than I can't think of what words to use to explain what I really mean, the one who has such bad farts they wake him up in the middle of the night (I blame the anti-biotics Wend would probably say different). You know she see the warts and she still loves me. She's amazing.

And for a week she's in Wales.

I spent a couple of nights at mum and dad's being looked after which was lovely. I spent an afternoon and evening round at Mark and Jills which was great just talking bikes and stuff and having my tea cooked for me. All the while the injections carried on and I spoke to the girls and Wend every day, sometimes twice or more.

I coped, I found that my head went into a weird coping mode. I had little emotion that week, I had a good cry one night when I missed everyone but other than that I found I was preoccupied with the Injections. They were to boost my white blood cells, which they did, a side effect which I'd got myself wound up about was bone pain. Mmmm bone pain, must be good if the mention it in the leaflet, I wonder when that'll kick in, if at all.

2:30am OH MY G*D, what the f***ing hell is going on....move, come on fatty move. Movement made the pain go a little, so I moved. All over the bed, upside down, crouching, stretching, bending, hanging over one side then hanging over two, stood up, squatting. Walking helped a bit more so around and around the bedroom I went. Went to the loo, difficult to get it all in the toilet when your pelvis feels like it's being crushed with metal clamp. Bend down to clean up, oh that's so not a good position to be in, I hope I don't bang my head and get stuck like this. Ooh you little F****r, must read the side effects, miss the bottom stair and jar my back, great. Read, come on eyes focus, right bone pain may be treated with normal pain killers. Right then pain killers it is, I can't believe they'll do much but I have nothing else to try. 2 paracetamol, not touching it, 2 brufen, 20 minutes later and I was asleep, not soundly but I was comfortable, ish.

1 comment:

  1. Bloody hell wrote you a real long message yesterday then the bloody chuffin stupid computer wouldnt send it ha! ha! so I'll start again - omg wot a wonderful surprise to see you at the door at work with all your fuzzy wuzzy hair - thank you so much for taking the time to find me and for saying hello. It must have been a hard thing to do but selfishly I was thrilled to bits to see you. Hope youre putting your name down for the xmas do - the list is up - ooh Ofsted r on their way so stress levels r up at work. Love to your family from my family xxxx keep fighting Nickel Arse xxxx