Welcome to the c word

I rarely show the world what is going on inside it is just not my style. I hide pain and constantly worry about worrying other people and how they will feel about how I am feeling. I keep my problems to myself and sometimes even from my closest friends. Well not this time.

I have been on the c word roller-coaster (I'm calling it the c word to go easy on the faint hearted) for over three weeks now and have decided it is a good idea to write down what's happened, happening and going to happen then whoever wants to keep up to date can without being forced to hear about it through emails from me. Because you will all have days where you just can't or don't want to hear about this. I get that it’s ok.

I hope not but you also might meet people or know people who go through something similar and it might just help them in some way to know they are not alone and when they fall apart it is ok because who wouldn’t. When you read this please forgive grammar and spelling etc I have not slept for three days and sorry too if it is up and down that is pretty much how I am doing most days.

- Tuesday 23rd February 2010

Monday 1 March 2010

Rollercoaster

You would think this experience would have taught me within the first day the brutal lesson that life, as you recognise it to be, can totally fold in on itself with relatively little warning if any. Yet I still wake up, like today, feeling like I have a steady grip on my world and everything is going to head in a specific direction for the duration of the day, and I believe it I totally convince myself. It is of course simply not the case. I am now sitting here sick with fear again wanting to hide till its all over when earlier I would have stood up short and straight and laughed, in a Rhett Butler-esque tone, directly in the face of cancer.
Hold that thought. just as I felt my heart sinking and the gloom had begun to set in, my cat Monty Zoomer a.k.a. Montezuma (as my brother once said, all cats should be named after dictators) decided to become feral and run around the room claws out, up curtains and sofas over Phil's legs, who screamed like Scarlett O'Hara coincidentally, and across tables and chairs until he chased his tail around a chair with wild black eyes, guffed and fell asleep. Feeling down? nah what's the point.

Right. Since reading that I need to eat cakes and butter on the Royal Marsden website I've been having hot cross buns covered in a enormously generous amount of Irish butter, you know kind of like a M&S advert, and then maybe later potatoes in a similar dairy coating, followed by cake and more cake. In truth I am so scared with chemo that I will lose tons of weight I figure I should fatten up while I still can. Phil on the other hand is fattening up too but is worried that they won't let him have a little chemo to slim down again. I do also have a theory that when I get over Cancer I will probably have a heart condition. Butter is sooo nice though isn't it.

Also Phil told me not to watch 'Beaches' which is on TV soon. Subtle Phil subtle.
It is Isaac's birthday tomorrow he is 9 I can't believe it, I met him when he was 4 and wearing a Halloween skeleton jump suit. He said 'would you like me to show you how to play spiderman?' and I fell in love instantly. Reuben 10 came home from a party later and sneered at me for the next few days only refraining from this to make polite remarks like 'why are you still here?' or the classic 'you are not my mother'. It took me under two weeks to reach him. He came in sat on the sofa I was lying on laid down and hugged me for what felt like hours. I never give myself enough credit as to how important I am to both of them, and them to me. Really don't want them to watch me go through this and I wish there was a subtle way to have cancer. Oh good title for a book - Sarah's fantasy books 1. How to cure cancer with cakes. 2. The subtle art of cancer. 3. 10 easy steps to stop anyone suffering around you with the use of pipe cleaners and paper mache.

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