Thursday, 1 July 2010
Thursday, 24 June 2010
It's been a while....
... almost 6 months since I've posted, some very difficult times indeed. Hindsight's a wonderful thing, but I think on reflection I went back to work full time too soon - and felt quite misunderstood in the process, then life just became too complicated in October - and it all went downhill from there (as observed by several of my friends) resulting in a very tough start to 2010.
Depression is common after cancer, especially once the main treatment is done - you fight for your life to return to normality but when you get there you understand that life will never be the same again. For me I lost the motivation to fight for a while, I really couldn't have cared what happened, the one person that at the time i wanted to be there choose not to be. You live and learn, as they say - and I've certainly learnt a lot in the last 6 months. I've learnt who my friends truly are and I've learnt that words without actions are meaningless, and that what some people say they are going to do - and what they ultimately end up doing are two very different things.
Deep down I am strong, independent and a fighter - a realist too, but eventually I choose to fight. It was tough, but thanks to the support on my doctors, the breast care nurses, my Shine friends and my scuba friends.... and of course my regular friends too - I'm now gaining in strength and confidence. 6 months on, I've had my last Herceptin (yesterday) and my portacath is being removed next Thursday, then I'm done! I hope.
Sadly I did not make the Moonwalk, as I have suffered with fatigue and it just was not physically possible -I have to say a huge well done to Sarah who went ahead and did the whole 26 miles anyway - AMAZING. I am however doing Relay for Life - the 24 hour team event to raise money for cancer research.
I expect I'll remember lots more to write once I post this - I'll try not to leave it so long next time!
Depression is common after cancer, especially once the main treatment is done - you fight for your life to return to normality but when you get there you understand that life will never be the same again. For me I lost the motivation to fight for a while, I really couldn't have cared what happened, the one person that at the time i wanted to be there choose not to be. You live and learn, as they say - and I've certainly learnt a lot in the last 6 months. I've learnt who my friends truly are and I've learnt that words without actions are meaningless, and that what some people say they are going to do - and what they ultimately end up doing are two very different things.
Deep down I am strong, independent and a fighter - a realist too, but eventually I choose to fight. It was tough, but thanks to the support on my doctors, the breast care nurses, my Shine friends and my scuba friends.... and of course my regular friends too - I'm now gaining in strength and confidence. 6 months on, I've had my last Herceptin (yesterday) and my portacath is being removed next Thursday, then I'm done! I hope.
Sadly I did not make the Moonwalk, as I have suffered with fatigue and it just was not physically possible -I have to say a huge well done to Sarah who went ahead and did the whole 26 miles anyway - AMAZING. I am however doing Relay for Life - the 24 hour team event to raise money for cancer research.
I expect I'll remember lots more to write once I post this - I'll try not to leave it so long next time!
Thursday, 7 January 2010
Reality
"…But rather than providing emotional sustenance, the sugar-coating of cancer can exact a dreadful cost. First, it requires the denial of understandable feelings of anger and fear, all of which must be buried under a cosmetic layer of cheer. This is a great convenience for health workers and even friends of the afflicted, who might prefer fake cheer to complaining, but it is not so easy on the afflicted."
An extract from 'Smile, you've got cancer', please follow this link:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2010/jan/02/cancer-positive-thinking-barbara-ehrenreich
I like coincidences, today's lead me to the above referenced article (thank you Justin) - only 12 or so hours earlier I'd been talking with Clare who had also given me something to look up in the same newspaper (infact both mentioned 'this column will change your life'), anyway this is how it is:
12 months ago, almost to the day, I was totally shocked that at 35 years old I had breast cancer. The year that followed is documented here, and whilst at times honest and frank, it is as a 'friend' politely put it 'my public face'; this is indeed true of many of my 'sisters', and having digested this recently mentioned comment and along with weighing up conversations with my cancer friends, I was on the verge of wanting to express the growing sense of frustration and isolation that I (and many others) feel. Yes, I am through the worst of my treatment; No Herceptin isn't that bad; BUT I am 36 years old and I am living with my breast cancer diagnosis and it's b****y hard!
So, from now on there will be no 'public' face, I think one of my strengths is ‘what you see is what you get’, and perhaps I have done this an injustice in the last year as I got caught up in the need to be 'positive'. The truth is that cancer is everything you would fear it to be - and worse. Living with a death sentence yet not knowing when (or if) it is coming, is for me the hardest thing of all. People don't want to hear that, this I understand - I've been in those shoes and said/ done/ thought the same things with mum (who, incidentally was one of the most 'positive' people I ever knew, but believe me I now know that the smiles hid many fears and being 'positive' did not save her life, this was not a failure - just cancer doing its worst).
I don't want to be just another statistic - live or die - having cancer is not a gift, but maybe just maybe it is an opportunity - if, as fate has decided, I am to live this awful disease, then I will do it my way - and use the opportunity that has been bestowed upon me - until now I did not know how, yes I'll do all the usual (and important) fundraising walks and runs, but I need to do something more... individual.... somehow. Now I know how - I'll ditch the 'public 'smiley' face' and attempt to reveal the realities of living and dying with cancer.
Warning: not for the faint hearted
An extract from 'Smile, you've got cancer', please follow this link:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2010/jan/02/cancer-positive-thinking-barbara-ehrenreich
I like coincidences, today's lead me to the above referenced article (thank you Justin) - only 12 or so hours earlier I'd been talking with Clare who had also given me something to look up in the same newspaper (infact both mentioned 'this column will change your life'), anyway this is how it is:
12 months ago, almost to the day, I was totally shocked that at 35 years old I had breast cancer. The year that followed is documented here, and whilst at times honest and frank, it is as a 'friend' politely put it 'my public face'; this is indeed true of many of my 'sisters', and having digested this recently mentioned comment and along with weighing up conversations with my cancer friends, I was on the verge of wanting to express the growing sense of frustration and isolation that I (and many others) feel. Yes, I am through the worst of my treatment; No Herceptin isn't that bad; BUT I am 36 years old and I am living with my breast cancer diagnosis and it's b****y hard!
So, from now on there will be no 'public' face, I think one of my strengths is ‘what you see is what you get’, and perhaps I have done this an injustice in the last year as I got caught up in the need to be 'positive'. The truth is that cancer is everything you would fear it to be - and worse. Living with a death sentence yet not knowing when (or if) it is coming, is for me the hardest thing of all. People don't want to hear that, this I understand - I've been in those shoes and said/ done/ thought the same things with mum (who, incidentally was one of the most 'positive' people I ever knew, but believe me I now know that the smiles hid many fears and being 'positive' did not save her life, this was not a failure - just cancer doing its worst).
I don't want to be just another statistic - live or die - having cancer is not a gift, but maybe just maybe it is an opportunity - if, as fate has decided, I am to live this awful disease, then I will do it my way - and use the opportunity that has been bestowed upon me - until now I did not know how, yes I'll do all the usual (and important) fundraising walks and runs, but I need to do something more... individual.... somehow. Now I know how - I'll ditch the 'public 'smiley' face' and attempt to reveal the realities of living and dying with cancer.
Warning: not for the faint hearted
Sunday, 3 January 2010
Friday, 18 December 2009
What a year...
Well the theme of the year has been survival and goodbyes… survived my op; survived chemo (just!); survived radiotherapy; survived Mike leaving; surviving life post diagnosis and single life – said goodbye to my loyal in trusted companion of 11 years, Bradley; said goodbye to life without the worries of cancer and said goodbye to my turbulent relationship of 4+ years (probably the hardest thing of the year).
It’s been a time of reflection and readjustment. Survival has revealed an inner strength beyond anything I’d either known or expected of myself (surprised a few people I think) and despite an immensely difficult year, as it draws to a close I feel stronger and more determined than ever. I do at times struggle – I’ve learnt that this is the ‘unseen’ side of cancer, there’s so much that only you (and fellow survivors know) – most people simply have no idea (even if they think they do!). It is a long and lonely journey, which isn’t to knock the support of my amazing friends, who have stood by me – and still stand by me – but essentially you are alone with the voice inside your head. This has been a year of incredible lows, and of course I worry about what the future will hold, but I can’t change that – I’m sad that certain people have decided to go their own way and not stand shoulder to shoulder with me, but with hindsight that was always inevitable. I have learnt that you can’t change people – not even with cancer in the equation it would seem.
Well, this time next week it will be Christmas. I’m looking forward to spending it with my family and the people that care about me.
It’s been a time of reflection and readjustment. Survival has revealed an inner strength beyond anything I’d either known or expected of myself (surprised a few people I think) and despite an immensely difficult year, as it draws to a close I feel stronger and more determined than ever. I do at times struggle – I’ve learnt that this is the ‘unseen’ side of cancer, there’s so much that only you (and fellow survivors know) – most people simply have no idea (even if they think they do!). It is a long and lonely journey, which isn’t to knock the support of my amazing friends, who have stood by me – and still stand by me – but essentially you are alone with the voice inside your head. This has been a year of incredible lows, and of course I worry about what the future will hold, but I can’t change that – I’m sad that certain people have decided to go their own way and not stand shoulder to shoulder with me, but with hindsight that was always inevitable. I have learnt that you can’t change people – not even with cancer in the equation it would seem.
Well, this time next week it will be Christmas. I’m looking forward to spending it with my family and the people that care about me.
Sunday, 18 October 2009
Autumn days
Well, I had a fab birthday and a good start to my 36th year - Clare managed to spring a surprise on me and tuned up on the doorstep to join in celebrations ~ at a lovely restaurant in Lymington.
Since then I've held a successful pink party ~ raised £160 pounds; visited Catherine in London ~ and the rather trendy piano bar!
Met some new friends at a local breast cancer support group and signed up for the 2010 moonwalk~ full marathon, at night - bras on display!!! Will post a link to my fund raising page once sorted.
Otherwise I'm doing ok, adjusting to single life slowly and of course, life post diagnosis. I think in many ways it's harder now - everyone comments how well I look and I think this perhaps masks the issues and worries that lie beneath the surface, but they are there - prognosis/will it come back/ and the big one - children, in terms of past decisions (not mine!) and the fact that now I’ll probably never have my own, maybe when I so desperately wanted them in the last couple of years I somehow knew it was now(then) or never - and I must admit I feel more than slightly let down.
Enough said.
I'm off to Italy for a week on Saturday and I can't wait!
Terri x
Since then I've held a successful pink party ~ raised £160 pounds; visited Catherine in London ~ and the rather trendy piano bar!
Met some new friends at a local breast cancer support group and signed up for the 2010 moonwalk~ full marathon, at night - bras on display!!! Will post a link to my fund raising page once sorted.
Otherwise I'm doing ok, adjusting to single life slowly and of course, life post diagnosis. I think in many ways it's harder now - everyone comments how well I look and I think this perhaps masks the issues and worries that lie beneath the surface, but they are there - prognosis/will it come back/ and the big one - children, in terms of past decisions (not mine!) and the fact that now I’ll probably never have my own, maybe when I so desperately wanted them in the last couple of years I somehow knew it was now(then) or never - and I must admit I feel more than slightly let down.
Enough said.
I'm off to Italy for a week on Saturday and I can't wait!
Terri x
Tuesday, 29 September 2009
Birthday thoughts....
It’s a good job that we can’t see what the future holds, if I cast my mind back to a year ago I thank God (or whatever) that I didn’t know what lay ahead – I knew there would be some difficult days, as once again I found myself painfully having to come to terms with being by myself yet again and I was devastated beyond words. I think that emotional scars run far deeper than physical scars, even now.
Perhaps the intense anxiety, worry and overwhelming emotion of the last 4 (now 5) years finally took its toll. I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter now anyway – but I do know that I didn’t think life could get much worse – it did. I know now that it always can – but I also know now that life is what you make it, whatever it throws at you.
Whilst it has been a tough year, it’s not been the worst year – that was 5 years ago, and yes, I wish she was here now. I suppose one of the hardest things is knowing what’s coming, not just for yourself, but for others – I’ve seen it from both sides now. I’m not sure whether I consider myself fortunate or not!
I went to a funeral earlier on in the year, a lovely lady who was very wise. The words that were spoken have remained with me, and I suppose I’ve tried to adopt them as my motto too:
Accept what you have. Never look back. Always have something to look forward to.
So, I try. It isn’t always easy, but it is possible – most things are.
So what are my hopes for the year ahead? Other than the obvious! Well, I would like my heart to heal enough so that I can love again without fear or insecurity; I want to stay strong in spirit and determination – and I hope to enjoy everything that life brings my way. That is my birthday promise to myself – for one year I am going to accept any opportunities and offers that come my way, unexpected or otherwise – unusual or just plain ordinary –…. if it’s legal and causes others no harm, my answer will be yes. I look forward to discovering where life will lead me this year.
My birthday wish? Just the one – it’s bad luck to say what you wish for isn’t it? – Let’s just say that those of you who know me well will figure it out, relieved in the knowledge that I’m following my newly adopted motto!
With love and blessings, Terri.
Perhaps the intense anxiety, worry and overwhelming emotion of the last 4 (now 5) years finally took its toll. I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter now anyway – but I do know that I didn’t think life could get much worse – it did. I know now that it always can – but I also know now that life is what you make it, whatever it throws at you.
Whilst it has been a tough year, it’s not been the worst year – that was 5 years ago, and yes, I wish she was here now. I suppose one of the hardest things is knowing what’s coming, not just for yourself, but for others – I’ve seen it from both sides now. I’m not sure whether I consider myself fortunate or not!
I went to a funeral earlier on in the year, a lovely lady who was very wise. The words that were spoken have remained with me, and I suppose I’ve tried to adopt them as my motto too:
Accept what you have. Never look back. Always have something to look forward to.
So, I try. It isn’t always easy, but it is possible – most things are.
So what are my hopes for the year ahead? Other than the obvious! Well, I would like my heart to heal enough so that I can love again without fear or insecurity; I want to stay strong in spirit and determination – and I hope to enjoy everything that life brings my way. That is my birthday promise to myself – for one year I am going to accept any opportunities and offers that come my way, unexpected or otherwise – unusual or just plain ordinary –…. if it’s legal and causes others no harm, my answer will be yes. I look forward to discovering where life will lead me this year.
My birthday wish? Just the one – it’s bad luck to say what you wish for isn’t it? – Let’s just say that those of you who know me well will figure it out, relieved in the knowledge that I’m following my newly adopted motto!
With love and blessings, Terri.
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