From a Bit of Fanfare to the Pit of Despair

Warning: This post is very much a stream of consciousness. I noticed on proof-reading that there is a distinct lack of structure and flow. I usually realise this when editing but have decided not to do anything about it on this occasion due to a lack of energy for reasons that will become clear.

The last week has been an emotional rollercoaster. I spent most of the week (in fact, most of the last few months) doubting that I would make it to my dear friend’s wedding on Saturday in the Lake District. It wasn’t until Thursday that I felt like the energy tide was turning in my favour and I dared to go out and buy the silver trainers that would replace the pretty silver shoes that Bridey had bought for us months ago (i.e., when I could walk without the splint and a limp).

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This time last year…

…I looked like this and, despite the smile, I was feeling pretty fed up!

rx

 

Oot and Aboot

Nothing much to report as I’ve been preserving energy for the next couple of days. One notable exception is that Graham, Jennifer and I went out on a twofold mission today to:

1. find some silver trainers for me that I may or may not need on Saturday; and
2. buy some presents for Leo for his birthday on Saturday as, although he will not remember, I will feel guilty about not getting him anything. Besides, Jennifer has the memory of an elephant and would undoubtedly tell him in years to come that he got nothing for his first birthday!

We went to the Metro Centre and succeeded, which was a relief. More importantly, I got to share some normal family time with my girl, who was excited to see the sparkly Christmas decorations. Plus, although I could blame the Squatter, anyone who knows me will realise it’s reassuringly normal for me to engage in last-minute panic-buying! I can’t share details of what we bought Leo as he might find out and that will spoil the surprise!

On the health front, I have had increased energy levels yesterday and today. The key, I think, has been a two-hour nap in the middle of each day. I confess that I’ve felt for years like I could do with a nap in the middle of the day. It’s only taken being diagnosed with a brain tumour for those around me to allow me to succumb. Living the dream!

Seizure later.*

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*Kudos to Claire Fox for that suggestion.

PS Here are my super silver trainers. Spot the discrepancy that I corrected as soon as I got home.

The Big Ol’ Blue

Graham and I finally had our birthday date in a hospital cafe two weeks after his birthday. Today’s venue was the Coffee House at the Freeman Hospital and was a change from our previous Costa/Subway dates at the RVI. However, given that I’ll have at least 31 appointments at the Freeman before the end of January, it’ll soon be passé too, no doubt.

The Northern Centre for Cancer Care at the Freeman was where we met my consultant oncologist, Dr M, and one of the Specialist Nurses, Katie (who was also at our initial appointment with Mr H and has popped up from time to time). I would still be meeting my oncologist at the Cancer Centre if my tumour was still classified as benign. Nonetheless, to walk into a centre with the C word in the title was a sobering reminder (not that I needed it) that I am now one of millions of people living with the Big C.

The Hodgeheg

Afternoon all

Since Rach’s last post we have enjoyed a somewhat more settled existence. Although Rach has had four seizures in that time (two on Friday and one each on Saturday and Sunday) they have been short, if not sweet, and, touch wood, have not caused any lasting issues.

Today is the first day that Rach has been amongst her people for the majority of the day, only now taking a rest before the return of the little people. On the strength of her reviews, we’ve all moved into Casa Turner which has significantly increased family play time, much to the particular delight of my daughter.

Rach has asked me to let you all know that she has not been ignoring all of your kind messages, she’s simply not had the energy to respond. I’m now receiving instructions so it shouldn’t be long!

Tomorrow we meet Rach’s Oncologist to discus what comes next. We’ll let you know.

G

p.s. The latest in post-surgical Hannibal hair dos

 

Free…

…At Last

After 25 days in hospital, it feels good to be free. I felt very tired when I got home on Wednesday afternoon and, to be honest, have felt shattered ever since! I have had some good times with the family in between the naps. That’s the best thing about being at home: being able to see the kids as often as I feel up to it. In hospital I was limited to, at most, a couple of hours a few times a week because the logistics didn’t work on days that they were in nursery.

Jennifer was very excited to see me. Leo smiled and then wandered off to get up to one sort of mischief or another. He currently has a love for putting things in the toilet. Nice. He didn’t like being held by me in hospital, not least because he’s become a real Daddy’s boy, but also because it’s not much fun being held (constrained) by someone in a bed when you’re 11 months old, have learned to walk and are feeling like you need to explore! He held his arms out to me yesterday, though, when he was incarcerated in his high chair and I was standing next to him. I recognised that I was being used, being the closest one who could free him, but I’ll take that!

Escape

Evening all, G here.

Just a quick note to let you know that Rachel has been let out for good behaviour and is once again residing Chez Turner, along with yours truly and the little people.

Whilst tired, Rachel is in good fettle and I for one enjoyed seeing my little family reunited at long last.

G