35 DAYS

Goodness me. What a total rant that last blog was. Well I was feeling pretty pissed off that I had gotten another tumor, another cancer and another load of treatment.

And breathe...

So I did my 35 days, 5 weeks. Only 5 weeks, seems so easy, not a long time but boy, does that time drag when you are having poison pumped into your body 24/7 and each morning getting up to go for a dose of radiation. As anyone that has done radiation will tell you, it's a gradual build up of nastiness. You are, let's face it, being burnt from the inside out. You can't actually feel the 10 minute treatment whilst you are having it but the effects after are bloody horrible. As soon as I got home from treatment I just collapsed onto my bed and unable as the days went on to really function at a normal pace. As well as that you have the most awful tummy (you don't really need the details), which having a colostomy bag is not fun and only having had my surgery 4 weeks before I started my treatment, caused me considerable pain. Some days I just wanted to scream as it felt like someone was pouring acid directly onto my stoma and surrounding skin and as for my lady garden... poor girl, I think if she could have screamed STOP she would have !!!  Charley the chemo pack was welcomed like a long lost enemy, I had never forgotten that hideous camera lens shutter sound. Bleugh. Attached to him continuously 24/7 was just awkward and uncomfortable. Unable to shower properly, sleeping with the pack hanging off the bed and hearing that noise every time it shot a dose of the crap into you.  To be honest though this time round, very little sickness, nausea yes and a continuous headache but only a handful of mad dash bathroom upchucks. Result!

So, three weeks ago today I was disconnected from the chemo and radiation stopped. Took until now really to feel human. It's also taken until now (3 months later) to be able to sit down without yelping like an injured animal. Never take your backside for granted again. Didn't help that they forgot to remove 2 stitches... 3 months I was walking around with those 2 remaining bad boys and having them finally removed involved a lot of teeth clenching and the F word being repeated over and over in my head, mind you, when I had the first 7 removed after surgery I was actually biting down on the bed and on my hands and knees so at least this time I was fairly dignified!

So here we are again in recovery mode. Not being 100% from the first round of cancer, surgery and chemo, I went into this latest episode with probably about 70% in my tank. It's been hard. Physically and emotionally. I raged for about a day and now it's just utter sadness that I feel. As always, I went through the treatment with determination and a fixed smile. I slept away the days (good old cannabis oil) and did what I needed to do to reach the finish line. Once I got to the finish line I just collapsed and the tears started. Again this cancer was aggressive and we know there is a possibility of it returning. I have got my head around this but I feel grief. Please don't get me wrong, my glass is most definitely half full, maybe even 3/4 full but this time I feel panic that I need to get back to me again quickly. I dislike the days that I am tired and have to sleep as I feel that I am missing out on days doing things that matter to me. We all feel it. Time is precious now. No regrets, making every day count.

The littles are being their amazing selves as usual but I know that they are really feeling it too. Roxy is glued to me at every given opportunity, she is constantly grabbing my face, kissing me and asking me if I am ok. I'm honest with her now. I tell her when days are bad and I tell her when I'm feeling sad. She looks at me with those massive brown almond eyes and tells me it will be ok. We have a lot of extended bed time cuddles which I love. The teenage little turned 14 last month and she's going through her own hormonal emotional roller-coaster of growing up excitement but she also knows only too well how serious this all is. Whilst I'm going through this, she is studying hard for exams and laying down her own foundations for her future.  I am in constant awe of their strength and empathy of our situation. I find myself looking at them and the tears start...I just can't imagine not seeing every aspect of their life and if I think too long and hard about it, I have an utter breakdown. When I go now I just go. The tears are heavy and hot and at times I can't quite catch my breathe. Thankfully, I have a therapist that is helping me through this grieving process, which she says it is. Not grief from death but grief and letting go of the old me. Again.

The good days far outweigh the bad days though. I have without doubt the best circle of friends. My support group. These beautiful souls have got both myself and Chris through the dark days of the surgery, intensive care and the recover thereafter. They have dog walked, cooked, had food delivered, flowers sent and every day messages of love and laughter. We message most days, we laugh at our dark humour and probably very inappropriate things but without these souls my journey would have been so much harder.

So here we are in June, bloody hell this year has gone quickly. That's the problem with a cancer diagnosis, the journey from diagnosis, surgery, treatment to recovery consumes a lot of time. Well I'm here and feeling human again. The littles break up for 13 weeks summer holidays this week, I can't wait. We have an abundance of fun planned, including their annual 4 weeks away without us. The routine bloods and scans start again very soon but for now I am just concentrating on LIFE and LIVING.