Sunday, June 27, 2010

So we start again.

All the will in the world all the crossed fingers and legs and anything else that can be crossed didn't stop the consultation going the wrong way.

I was hoping for bird flu or even man flu. What we got was a 99.999999 percent probability of the lymphoma being back. The blood test which I had a week ago showed enough abnormalities to lend weight to the argument of it being back. Unfortunately with the other symptoms including the fluid on or around one of my lungs kinds of seals the deal.

The emotional result of this is the ar*e has fallen out of our world again. We told the girls which in all honesty was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. We told them when we were told I was in remission that it had gone to sleep so telling them it's woken up should be easy. But their faces contorted with pain and worry and tears and anger and pure pure emotion was too much and it was confirmation, if needed, that we were back in the fight.

Telling people is rubbish, they answer their phones and are happy to hear your voice and then you give them the news. Their voices sink and you can hear them thinking of what to say, of which there is very little they can say. Then you leave that person holding that piece of news and you go and give the news to someone else, in a way it's the old 'a problem shared' but it's not really it's just cr*p.

One of the hardest was a skype call to New Zealand to tell Charlie and Veronica that we won't be at their wedding. I knew they'd understand but I wanted to be at their wedding we'd booked the flights and everything, even bought a Swedish phrase book as the wedding will be in Veronica's homeland, complicated yes but worth doing for people you love.

I phoned Jase (brother in law) as he can sometimes be a mushroom in the chain of information passing (kept in the dark and fed poo). His response was like many others, sorrow that it had returned and a wish that I get through this. We agreed to talk more that evening. What I didn't realise was that he and Anita pretty much dropped everything and came up to give us a hug.

I'm so lucky, it sounds very backwards and maybe I am but I'm so lucky to have so many people wishing us well and wanting to help and do stuff and praying for us and worrying for us. Perhaps I would never have realised all this without the journey that is cancer but I realise it now and it feels brilliant to have this amazing group of people that we can ring or see.

The person that I feel for the most is Wend, once again she has the prospect of looking after the girls and maybe me and a dog now. She has the worries of a wife looking at the person she loves going through treatment. And there's not a f*cking thing I can do about it. Sorry about the language but it's not fair, she worked so hard last year keeping everything together and kicking me when I needed it or loving me or just holding or stroking my hairless head. She deserves a medal for the way that she kept the girls lives as normal as she did, she deserves another one encrusted with diamonds for putting up with me. She doesn't deserve another round of uncertainty and worry. It's just not fair on her, she's so amazing I don't want her suffering because of me. Wendy I love you.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

testing testing 123

Ok so the elbow thing is better, having spoken to a physio terrorist at a wedding and being told to sleep on my back the pain has completely gone in my left arm.

Unfortunately I now have a pain in my chest, I wake up with night sweats, I've lost a load more weight (just on the 16 stone marker ish), I have temperatures in the day, my breathing is ok depending on how I'm positioned, I have a severe lack of energy, my tastes have changed again and I don't like things like brown bread and pasta which I lived off before cancer, oh and I'm drinking like a fish but not weeing anything like enough. Maybe that's what the sweats are for!

So putting them all together and having been told I looked less that sparkling by some of my colleagues, they did ply me with coffee and chocolate though which was lovely, and Wendy saying you look peaky prompted a trip to the gp.

The gp didn't look in my throat or examine me just said well we'll take a blood test and get you back in in a week. I suggested that as once you're in at Weston park you're in, that I just phone them up. He was delighted!

So that's where Wendy and I have been today, Weston Park. I managed to get to see Georgia do her obstacle course for her sports day but then had to dash.

To cut a long story, well I could make it long, short I'll give the abridged version.

Waited, for a long time, got seen. Consultant wants blood tests doing and ct scans. If it were one or two of the symptoms above she'd put it down to side effects, which it may still be. It may also be a virus and lord knows there's plenty of them going round at school with the snotty little oiks. That's just the teachers! It may be something more sinister. Who knows, not us.

So we're back on the roller coaster that is cancer, I want normal not roller coaster. But having said that I feel less angry than I did which is odd. Ho hum I'm sure some shrink will figure it out.

In search of me.

Before cancer I felt on top of the world. my job was going well, my fitness was the best it had ever been including being a kid and my work life balance felt amazing. Wendy and I had time together, we had time with and without the kids and I had some time just being me.

I felt like I was chilled, that anything could come my way and I could work through it. I laughed at people cutting me up in the car and everything would be done when it was done. It felt brilliant.

After cancer I was trying to be that person, but that person had a routine of job and sport and family which I didn't have. But gradually I got more and more angry and crosser and crosser. At nothing in particular. The slightest little car incident would have me blowing the horn or gesticulating about the other person's inability to drive. The kids and Wendy were getting short shrift for no reason other than I could and the dog learned to stay out of the way!

It all came to a head recently when we'd been to see Wendy's Gran. She's the traditional matriarch and a lovely woman but she'd had a stroke recently and then we were all going over for her 90th birthday. We went over on the Sunday before going back to school and I just got so wound up that I was mean and sarcastic and just not the person I aspire to be.

Wendy let me know, there's only so much someone can take and she's taken way more than anyone should. We had a frank discussion and I have to find how to be Nick Hart before cancer again.

Walking round school I was in a real mess, if home isn't right then nothing is right. Talking to people helped I hope I didn't bore people as I try to leave things at home but I am a bit of an open book and people tend to know my emotions half way down a corridor sometimes.

I spoke to Belinda my little goddess of honesty and straight talking and she suggested flowers and /or chocolate. It had been ages since I had bought Wendy flowers and the girls had never had any so roses (flowers not chocolates) it was.

Bertie is a fabulously rubbish guard dog until you're trying to walk in with bunches of roses for the ladies you love. Sometimes words come and sometimes they don't, I gave the girls their single rose each and explained that I'd been so proud of them and that I don't feel like I've been a very good dad this last year. Not my fault I know but I should have been better. It set the waterworks off I was crying the girls were crying Wend was crying and it was such a release. Such a release of emotion of thoughts of nick after cancer. It was my starting point.