NHS lottery

When the NHS is good it is fantastic.  But when it isn't ...

We are very very lucky.  Both of my births have been very positive and profound experiences, despite being very different.  My Mam's treatment has been second to none, she cannot fault a thing.  Unfortunately I am starting to see that is by no means the normal experience.


I know of three people, in three different PCTs across the country, who have persistently gone to the doctors about various symptoms, which have not been joined up, leaving a cancer diagnosis which has come far too late for the patient to be successfully treated.  This is just unacceptable.  Cancer is so very treatable if caught in the early stages, my Mam's story is a testament to that.  There is no excuse for not investigating symptoms which may potentially  be cancer at the moment they first come onto a GP's radar. 

Then when a diagnosis is made in time, and treatment follows, there is still no guarantee of a smooth ride.  I know of life saving operations delayed and delayed and delayed, and only time will tell if all the delays will cost a life.  I know of botched operations leaving people disfigured and in pain when the family were told that would not be an issue.  I know of surgeons who complete major surgery, then fly out of the country for three weeks the next day and don't even make the effort to speak to the family first.

My Mam was offered an operation date for 6 days after her diagnosis.  She had visits from the surgeon, the anaesthetist and the theatre nurse within hours of coming round after her op.  She was well supported and cared for by the ward nurses, the district nurses, and her own assigned Macmillan nurse.  This should be the norm, not the exception.

RIP Nana H

I am sad to have to post that Nana H passed away in the early hours of this morning.  My blogging may be a bit more sporadic over the next few weeks as we help sort out her estate.  We are a sadder family tonight, but glad that she is in peace now, after having been poorly on and off for over a year now.  We are glad she got to meet Baby R, and that she took so much pleasure in being a Great-Nana.  What a 92 years she has had!


Give your loved ones an extra big hug tonight readers, and be thankful for your family.  It really is the most important thing.

The Other Man in my life

There are a number of important men in my life.  There is my long suffering husband Mr R, who sticks with me even though I must be a devil to live with sometimes.  There is my perfect little man of course, Toddler R, who never ceases to make me want to hug him and squidge him forever and ever, or send him back from whence he came in roughly equal measure!  There is my brother, my father, a parade of ex-boyfriends and boy friends old and new.

But I do have an Other Man in my life.  A Man who has brought me back from the brink of doing something stupid more times than I care to remember.  A Man who speaks to me through a shared love of quirky pop music.  A Man who I would marry just for his voice (sorry Mr R, but you are safe, He isn't available!).

This Other Man is no other than Darren Hayes.

I first came to love his voice through Savage Garden, and have continued to follow his career.  Today, I *finally* recieved his latest album (remind me never to preorder anything again in the expectation you get it quicker!!!), Secret Codes and Battleships, and WOW what a listen.  It truly is his best offering yet.  I am sitting here snuggling with Baby R, trying to calm Toddler R down long enough to let me listen to it properly, and enjoying every minute.  I don't buy many albums these days, but now I have a brand new album for all those trips up north to be with my Mam, for all those afternoons when I am just fed up and need a pick me up, for all those nursery runs and errands.  For when this journey seems too much.

Thank you for the Music Mr Hayes, keep up the fantastic work!

It never rains ...

My Grandmother in law is in hospital.  Again. This must be the 6th time in as many months, and only 2 weeks since she last came out.  She is 92, going blind and deaf, but still a very sharp cookie.  Problem is, she is 2 hours away, and we can't get to visit her very easily.  I avoid blogging about her daughter, my Mother in Law, as we have a very broken relationship, but unfortunately due to circumstances she won't visit her mother.  So poor Nana H has to rely on  a very kindhearted neighbour to look out for her, and an alarm she wears round her neck when she feels she needs help.  She pressed it this morning, the controllers called an ambulance, and now we are waiting for news.

I feel so helpless, on yet another level.  Ironically, so does my Mam!  We both want to jump in the car and go to be with Nana H, but obviously we can't, for our own and different reasons.  I am restricted by my babies, Mam by her treatment.  We both are getting to the point of going stir crazy being stuck in the house, me through the Pox quarantine, and her through her unemployment and recovery.  Sometimes it just feels like one thing after another, we just get through one hurdle (Toddler R's spots have gone, and his potty training is starting to get there) and another one is thrown in our path!

If only someone could invent an instant teleport machine!  Get well soon Nana H, thinking of you and hopefully we will get to see you soon!

I miss my family ...

I have just had a wave of sadness wash over me as I was doing some washing up - I know, that's enough to make anyone sad!  In all seriousness though, its so strange how these things just hit you when you least expect it.  I just realised, I miss my family so much.  I know nobody has gone anywhere, but we haven't seen my parents now for over 5 weeks.  Never since Toddler R was born 37 months ago have we spent so long apart, despite the 3 hours of motorway between us.  And we have another 12 days to go before we will finally see them again.

I miss seeing my parents' faces light up when the kids do something new.  I miss being able to relax a bit more knowing there are more pairs of hands and eyes around.  I miss the stolen hours of peace and quiet here and there when my parents take one or both of the kids off for a bit.  I miss the chats, the laughter and the banter.  It just all seems so carefree, and so distant.

I am really struggling with wishing time away, when every moment of Baby R's first year is so so precious and fast running out.  But I am sooooo looking forward to November 5th, the fireworks will be very special for us this year.

Busy Busy Busy!!

We have had a manic few days in the R household, including birthday parties, sorting grown out of clothes, Toddler R's first trip to our new church, and a hellish day on Friday (which is best not blogged about, our children really are sent to try us some days!!).  Mr R has gone to visit his elderly grandmother, who is not in the best of help, so the children and I are just chilling - we are so tired! 

I wanted to thank everyone who spread the link about my last blog, http://allaboutthebs.blogspot.com/2011/10/breast-cancer-aware.html.  If you missed it, please please spread it now, it is so important.

Normal blogging service will resume next week :)

Breast Cancer Aware

Apparently October is Breast Cancer Awareness month.  So ladies (and gents!), how often do you check your Boobies?  How big would an unusual lump or bump have to be before you noticed it?

We have had an awful time, but it could have been so so much worse - my Mam's life has never truly been under threat.  If she had left it longer before seeking medical attention, or even if she hadn't picked up on the lump until later down the line, then we could be looking at a very different outcome.  So please, make sure you check your boobies regularly.  Familiarise yourself with them, check with your arm held in different positions so you feel everywhere, get into a regular routine.  Then if you are ever so unfortunate as to develop a lump, then you can seek medical advice straight away, and get it sorted.

Breast Cancer is one of the most survivable cancers, with early intervention the key.  Get feeling those Boobies!!

Phase 2 complete!

 My Mam had her last Chemo treatment today.  16 weeks ago this day seemed like forever away.  Mam has been so determined not to let it get her down, and she has trooped through despite the hair loss and the enforced separation from us due to the pox.  But it has come, and that is phase 2 of the whole process complete.  Next step, Radiotherapy, but lets just enjoy this achievement first.  My Mam's biggest worry has been that her count would get too low and they would have to postpone a treatment, but it has gone without a hitch.  So we are on track for our target of December 2nd as the end of invasive treatment (we're not really worrying about the herceptin and tamoxifen, that is almost by the by treatment).

So let this post be a celebtration of then end of a very difficult chapter in our family's life, and a prayer that the next step will be as positive.

I also just want to take a moment to think of the father of a good friend of mine currently undergoing reconstructive surgery before he can start his chemo.  Sending you strength Mr H, and love to the whole A family xxx

All about the Bottoms!!!

I am seriously considering a name change!!

Toddler R is toilet training.  He has got to the ripe old age of 3 completely refusing to use the potty.  A couple of weeks after his birthday he decided to sit on the toilet one night, so the next morning that was it, underpants were on.  He has good days and bad days, but 3 weeks in he still isn't consistently using the potty.  And when he does, well lets say his aim isn't always what I would like it to be.  But hey ho.  I am trying to relax about it.

In other news, Baby R has tooth number 4, and the vile nappies that go with it.  Seriously, my lounge smells like a toilet!  I am considering buying shares in Vanish and Shake n Vac. 

So we have invested in a nice fresh new Glade plug in thing, its a bit strong but certainly better than the alternative.  At the weekend when Mr R is around to take the kids out of the way, I feel a deep clean coming on.  But then I wonder if it is worth it when the first thing Toddler R will probably do when he comes back in is pee all over it again!  Maybe it is time to move the potty into the bathroom and insist all business is done there ...

Isn't parenting wonderful!  I hope you aren't reading this while eating your tea ... sorry ...

The Pox has struck!

Today we have had a confirmed diagnosis, Toddler R has Chicken Pox.  As my Mam said this morning, it makes it feel a bit better that we have had to stay away for a few weekends, otherwise we would have been really upset and worried that she may have caught it from him.  The Pox and immuo-suppressed people really do not mix!  At least he is not too poorly with it, in fact in the last 10 minutes I have had demands for chocolate, cars, and more dinner ...

So far Baby R appears unscathed, in a way I am hoping she is getting my immunity from my breastmilk, so she will escape unscathed for the moment.  I know she needs to get it at some point, but she is too young for antihistimine products, and really my plate is so so full at the moment it would at least be of some small relief if she escaped it this time round.  Live to fight another day and all that!

Love you Toddler R, get well soon xxx

Belonging

I hate feeling out at sea.  This has been one of the most difficult things to deal with in our whole Cancer journey, feeling cut off from the people I care about most.  In a number of areas of my life, I have had cause to majorly reassess where I belong.

In that vein, I started looking for a new Church over the summer.  I was brought up in a Christian family, and have a very personal faith which is a big part of who I am.  For the best part of the last 8 years I have attended a small church local to where we lived as students, and have invested a lot of time and energy there, especially before I had the children.  In fact, the first time I ever left Mr R alone with Toddler R was when he was 5 weeks old, to go to a Church meeting.  Sadly, I have never felt 100% comfortable there, and this feeling has only intensified in these past difficult months.

Two weeks ago I took the step of walking into our local Baptist Church.  I felt like such a fish out of water to start with, but I really enjoyed the simplicity and the whole feel of the service.  Afterwards, I was made to feel so welcome, chatting with various members of the congregation, and the Pastor, in the Coffee Lounge (yes, a Church with its very own Coffee Lounge, how ace is that!).  So today I went back.  And I just felt like I had come home.

These people don't know me, they don't know my pain, they don't know what I have come through to get here.  But I have every confidence that from here on in, they will be my new second family.  I look forward to sharing my Sunday morning with them, in time to inflict my children on them (but not just yet, I enjoy my little bit of peace and quiet too much!), to grow with them and to share their journey as the Church develops.  I look forward, after 9 years of searching since I moved here, to finally belonging.

The irony of Cancer treatment

I was chatting to a friend a few days ago, who is also supporting a parent on a Cancer journey.  An interesting point came up in our chat, which I have been musing on.  My Mam hasn't had Cancer since May 25th, when she had her op.  Yet she is a Cancer patient, having Cancer treatment.  She was never ill with the Cancer, because she caught it so early.  Yet the treatment for the Cancer she no longer has causes side effects which can make her tired and ill.  The Cancer has been the trigger, but it hasn't been the cause of any ill health, it is the treatment which has been the cause.

Cancer treatment is so aggressive, such hard work, and I know many people aren't as lucky as my Mam in that their Cancers are inoperable, or lumpectomys only get some of the tumour and not all of it.  But I have found it hard to get my head around, that the treatment regieme is so awful even when the actual cause, the disease, is no longer present.  I know it is all to give my Mam the best chance moving forward in her life, to cover any 'just in case' scenarios, and to ensure her future health.  But what a price to pay.

I am looking forward to when all this is a distant memory, and my Mam is back to her normal self again, although after a journey like this I doubt any of us will ever be the same as we were.

False Eyelashes

I am not a make up girlie.  I very rarely wear it, only on the occasional night out and on family occasions when my Mam is around.  When I was a teenager, instead of handing me baby wipes and telling me to take my excessive make up off, my Mam would hand me a lipstick and tell me to get some on!  I am the first to admit, I am actually pretty clueless at how to wear it nicely, other than a quick spread of tinted moisturiser, sweep of mascara, brush of eyeshadow and smear of lipstick topped off with gloss.


So after her last Chemo, my Mam started to lose her eyelashes.  She still has her eyebrows, which was her biggest fret after her hair - the last thing she wanted was to be a 'painted lady'.  But her eyelashes have gone.  At my cousin's last birthday party, she was sporting some fantastic falsers, to rival Cheryl Cole, so my Mam decided to have a go herself.  But I don't think she got very far.

So here is where the most ridiculous feeling of guilt yet creeps in.  Me, a 20something year old girl, is too much of a tomboy to ever have been interested in make up and accessories, yet now I feel bad I don't know enough to help my mam wear false eyelashes!  How ridiculous!  But thats one of the things that the Big C does to you, turns trifling insignificant molehills into mountains the size of Kilimanjaro!

We skyped a few days ago, and its really not obvious - its not like you walk round looking at people's eyelashes.  But it is another thing to tackle, another thing to have to accept and move on from.  Wednesday is Mam's last chemo, all being well, and then that's it.  No more poison going into her veins, her body should start recovering pretty much straight away, and this time that recovery will not be hampered by more drugs 3 weeks later.  Our next step is to tackle the radiotherapy, but we're not really even thinking about that yet.  Lets get Wednesday out of the way now.  And if anyone knows the best way to put on false eyelashes ...

Blog improvements

I have been doing a bit of work on my blog today.  Alongside the ticker I added last week, to count down to the end of my Mam's radiotherapy, I have added an 'About Me' tab, 'Useful Links' tab, and a 'Blogs I follow' tab.  Looking forward, I don't want this blog to just die at the stroke of midnight on December 2nd, when Mam's intrusive treatement is over, I feel like I want to carry it on, for it to become a legacy of the nightmare 9 months we will have had.  So I am putting things in place to help 'All about the Boobies' be a supportive web presence in times to come.

So follow me on Blogger, 'Like' me on Facebook, who knows I may even become a twit and brave a Twitter account!  Share with your friends, spread the word.  'All about the Boobies' is back and it is here to stay!

Welcome to the Facebook Revolution!

All about the Boobies is now on Facebook!

Now I am blogging more regularly, there are a lot more posts to catch up on for those of you lovely people who read every now and again.  So I have created a page on Facebook for those who want to follow every post.  Once I publish on the blog I will pop a link on Facebook for you to peruse at your leisure, so enjoy!

Due to the sensitive nature of the blog All about the Boobies will continue to be published anonymously.  Thank you again to all of you who read, it really helps to know I am not shouting in the dark!  More later ...

PMA - Positive Mental Attitude

Can anyone remember those adverts, I think they were for biscuits, with Linford Christie??  You have to have a Positive Mental Attitude to get where you want to go.  So why is it so blooming hard!

Every day I look for the positives, and every day so many little negatives get strewn across my path it makes it so hard.  Many days at the moment I lose the battle.  So today I am making a resolution to myself.  I WILL have a PMA moment, every day, where I stop and look at the positives in my life. 

For a start, my two beautiful little children, absolute blessings both of them.  Yes they are hard work, be it the ongoing weaning with Baby R (I will reclaim my boobies one day ...!) or the toilet training with Toddler R.  But for ever accident Toddler R has, there are two we catch in the potty, with the chuffed little face that goes with it.  And for every time Baby R won't take a cup, there are mealtimes where she polishes all her grub off followed by a big drink. 

Mr R.  Well, quite a lot he does my head in, but then he is the one in the firing line.  He is the one who has to live with me day by day, and to be quite honest he probably does deserve a medal for that.  But for every bad joke and every insensitive comment that sends me off in a rage, there is the bathtime with the kids that he is 100% hands on with, the shared determination that we will sit down with the house tidy by 8pm every night, and the indulgence of my obsession with Glee (yes, I am a Gleek, and proud of it!!).  Mr R, you may not be Johnny Depp, but you are Mr Dependable, and I know you will always be there by my side to co-parent with me, planning and working towards our future together, and for that I love you.

My friends.  Well according to facebook I have 358 of them ... but friendships are an area of my life which I struggle with.  I find it difficult to find a balance between all or nothing with my close friends, a hang up from my teen years of a string of failed 'best' friendships.  But as I have got older I have realised you don't have to know what your friends are doing every minute of every day, and see them 5 times a week, to cement your friendship.  Some of my good, closest friends I only see a handful of times a year, and I have many many friendships that exist on a purely virtual plane - but that doesn't make them any less real.  Some of my 'pink' ladies, a group of ladies who meet and chat via a private forum online, have been the truest friends I have ever had the pleasure to know, and care for me warts and all in a way that I feel blessed to experience.  Girls, I love you for being part of our BaBs world, and making it such a special haven.

So actually, I have a lot to be thankful for, and this blog has only just scratched the surface.  Next time I feel like the rug has been pulled from underneath me and I don't know where to turn, I will switch on my PMA mode, look for the positives, and move forward grateful for the blessings in my life which counter the negatives.  For without the bad in the life, how would we ever realise how good the positives actually are.

Supporting a Friend on a Cancer Journey

I do try to keep this blog as simple and honest as I can, and I don't want to come across preachy.  But this is something that is really on my mind, and since the purpose of this blog is to aid my venting/release process it is time to get this post out of my system!

When you tell people you, or someone you love, will be starting a Cancer Journey, you are met with shock, with awkward words, and platitutes.  "If you need anything just yell".  "Anything I can do to help".  "You know where I am".  "Just call".  I know I have given them myself.   The big thing is that I personally have meant them.  When a friend has needed me to babysit, I have gone at the drop of the hat.  When a friend has needed me to help with the school run, I have done it.  I can number in the tens the amount of people who have said these things to me, yet I can only count on one hand the number of people who have actually gone out of their way to help me.

Like the lovely lady who turned up on my doorstep last week with a bunch of flowers and tea for two.  Or the equally lovely lady who, when setting up a playdate for Baby R and her son, decided to take me out for curry instead.  I will be forever grateful to both.

But what about the nights out that get cancelled last minute, then never rearranged?  What about the afternoons of babysitting help that get offered but then reduced to a couple of hours?  While I am grateful for the offers, I would almost rather people wouldn't bother, then I wouldn't be so desperately disappointed when the glimmer of light in my week gets snatched away. 

So please, if you have a friend who you know it battling along their own journey, be it cancer or otherwise, by all means offer support but make sure that you intend to follow through what you offer.  Or if you aren't sure you can, then don't offer but make a surprise of it when you know you can. 

I must take this opportunity to thank each and every person who has offered me words of support, virtual hugs, and allowed me the space to vent and rage.  I am truly blessed that so many people across the country and even in lands further afield care enough to read and comment, and I hope that people starting their own journeys may read it and see that the dark times do pass, there are ups and downs, but life doesn't have to be (in our case anyway ...) all about the Boobies!!!!

What a weekend!!

Mr R was on a conference this weekend.  Which would have been ok had our plans to go and spend the time with my parents not been scuppered by the looming threat of Chicken Pox (see previous October blogs!).  So come Saturday morning, after being woken at 6am by my wonderful husband's stupidly loud alarm on his phone (wrong settings, oops, sorry dear!) the weekend went from bad to worse. 

Saturday Aunt Flo decided to pay a visit, which is an infrequent and irregular occurance since I am still breastfeeding Baby R.  Thank God for my fabulous Mooncup is all I can say, pop it in and off you go.  Toddler R is in the early days of potty training and decided to choose Sunday as the day to hold everything in and refuse to wee, leaving me to prod, pursuade, and eventually beg before he would sit on the potty and do his stuff.  So it was lunchtime by the time I got to go for a wee myself, and get a shower.  Of course, you can predict what happened next can't you ...

I return to my (luckily laminate floored) bedroom to find a huge puddle of wee - the reasonable amount in the potty having only been the first installment obviously.  Baby R (who is now on the move with a mix of roll, shuffle and crawl) delighted in making big splashy noises in it, while Toddler R himself had found the excellent game of sliding around the puddle and splashing down into it.  I cried.  Lots.  Although everyone I have told the tale to assures me I will find it hilarious in years to come ...

When Mr R returned home from said conference, he was handed two darling children, and I walked out of the house.  I took my current read (The Love Knot, by Elizabeth Chadwick, very good stuff) to our local Italian restaurant, sat with a small glass of pink and a steaming hot Lasagne, not cooked by myself, and wallowed in the bliss of the moment.  Two hours later it was back to the grind, but at least I grabbed a break.

Never again Mr R, Never again.

Resignation

Life is hard work, with challenges constantly thrown in our path.  I am now on day 2 of 5 of having the children on my own while Mr R works, then attends a conference.  Now this in itself is not a lot I realise, in fact I know an inspirational woman who has twin babies a few weeks younger than Baby R, and regularly looks after them on her own for weeks on end while her partner works away.  But throw teething and toilet traning into the mix, when I am not used to prolonged periods of having them on my own, and I am not looking forward to it.  Of course, in times gone by (and I am sure to come) my parents would have jumped at the chance to get some hands on time helping out with their grandchildren, but sadly at the moment my Mam's treatment has to be the priority.

So, I can kick, scream and shout about it, and continue my angry streak.  I can celebrate the fact Toddler R is really getting the potty thing, and that we should be ok ...

But in reality I am pretty resigned.  When the anger subsides, I find myself in a very numb place a lot of the time, and 'plodding on' through whatever the day brings seems to be the way I find to move forward.  Which isn't ideal when I have so much to enjoy each day.  Like the little grin Baby R gives me every time she sees me.  Like the chuffed little look on Toddler R's face when he wees on the potty and realises he has been a sucess in what I asked him to do.  Like the pride my parents shine with every time I tell them of their grandchildren's achievements that day.

Notice the trend ... its all about the children.  Now that is great, but maybe to beat this numbness, I need to start living life for me again ... suggestions on a postcard please!!

Anger

I am angry.  I am not normally an angry person, but recently I have been.  I started seeing a counsellor through the local hospice a few weeks ago, and straight away it became apparent I have not dealt with all my feelings surrounding my Mam and the Cancer, I have done a Scarlett O'Hara and packed them away until I have time to deal with them.

The thing is, I don't think there will ever be a time to deal with them.  My Mam's chemotherapy is rapidly coming to an end, she should have finished her treatment by December 2nd all going well.  So the end is in sight.  But, so is my maternity leave.  Sooner than I would like, I am going to have to start settling Baby R into nursery, weaning her off my boobies during the daytime (and I am going to need all of the luck in the world with that particular one!), and preparing my lessons and plans for January.  I am dreading it.  But I am also starting to realise that unless I start to face and conquer my angst over the year we should have had before Cancer took it away from us, then I am not going to last 2 minutes back at work, in the real world, doing the nursery runs and working with very challenging young people on a daily basis. 

So, expect to see a bit more activity on here from now on.  This is the first step of me admitting I never closed the book, just shoved a tatty bookmark in, and now it is time to read on ...

Why you should think before you act ...

Mr R is at a conference this weekend, so the kids and I have planned to go and spend 4 days with my parents.  My Dad has taken time off work, and is really looking forward to it.  We had some lovely things planned, and we were all ready for some family time.

But life never runs that smoothly does it.  We went to a children's Harvest workshop on Saturday, and there was a woman there whose little girl had recently had Chicken Pox.  But that was okay, because her spots were finished.  Her brother, however, was also there ... and now has Chicken Pox.

So our lovely, desperately needed family weekends has been ruined, because I can't take the kids near my immuni-suppressed mother because they have been exposed.  Please please, it may seem nothing to you if your child *may* be contagious, but the risk to other people may be greater than you know ...