My mothers birthday is soon upon me and for many reasons it seems important to share our experiences of dealing with Cancer with other Cancer patients, survivors and family members of these couragous and stong people. I say 'our' experiences because although my mother lost her battle with the disease she kept a diary of almost every emotion she experienced right until the end and I would like to share these with others along with some of my own.
I was, for the last year of her life, my mothers full time carer. This time was the most rewarding time of my life. It was tough at times, but not always. It is always there, in the back of your head, that they might be going somewhere but you just have to push that all to the back of your head and embrace every opportunity to share, to laugh, to love and to remember all those wonderful times you have shared with each other.
My mother was one of the most amazing women I have ever met....and I'm not being biased. She was an amazing woman. Her whole life was about her children. She spent every day telling us how amazing we were, how beautiful we were and how talanted we were.
Now, I could have been the dullest, most unattractive and useless loser that ever walked the planet but due to her total bias, and total sincerity I believed every word of it.
I am an avid Eastenders fan and was total appaled by the Tanya storyline, not because its about Cancer, I think it's an important storyline but because of the way they are dealing with it. I know, I know, its 'Eastenders', a soap, its supposed to be far fetched but for the love of God.
I'm not going to go on about what exactly I found dreadfull as this is not a blog about 'Eastenders' its a blog about dealing with Cancer and being the child of a perent with cancer. Every person who deals with this disease has a different experience. Not all of these experiences are bad.
There are many different types of Cancer and who am I to say what one would or wouldn't do in any circumstance or how treatment effects different people, I can only write about what I know.
My mother was officially diagnosed on the 31st June 1996. I was 19 years old and the eldest of three. She had been complaining for months about being totally swollen and feeling pregnant, but this was impossible as she had been seperated from my father for years and the only people she cared about was us, her kids.
I was a really independant young woman and had moved out the year before. I remember getting a call in the middle of the night prior to her being diagnosed and she was screaming in pain. I immediately drove to her and I took her to the emergency room. We spent hours in A&E, some 12 year old doctor saw us and x-rayed her and told her it was a kidney infection and sent us on our way.
I had a feeling that night something wasn't right, but who was I to argue with a young doctor. This soon changed after she was diagnosed, I argued with a lot of them. Anyway, I dont want to start this blog with a random string of thoughts that go nowhere but I will leave you with this, it's a quote, one of the first in my moms diary: