Damn you woman, damn you.

You wont see me today, you wont see my tommorow.
You ended up turning me and others inside out with your stupidity.
When I saw you that night a year ago tonight, all I asked was is my dinner in the oven?
You reply with something that made me collapse with shock and pain.
You then go through hell and dreadful pain.
You were refused treatment because you left it all too late.
You died because of your stupidity.
You left us without support
You left your grandchildren who hardly knew you. They will never really know you. You will be just an afterthought to them.
You will never see my success, or enjoy it, or bask in proudness. Nor will you see the children Ive yet to Father.
Right now Mum, If I saw you, Id shout at you and call you a stupid cow.
One examination at the right time, and I would have been enduring your rotten cooking this evening.

Damn you mother, damn you. Tonight it is hard to love or respect you.

( The above was not a poem or meant to be one. Im not a poet.)

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there, I do not sleep

I am a thousand winds that blow

I am the diamond glints on snow

I am the sunlight on ripened grain

I am the gentle autumn rain

When you awaken

In the morning’s hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight

I am the soft stars that shine at night

Do not stand at my grave and cry

I am not there, I did not die.

(Mary E Frye)

My usual call to the hospice today was tinged with sadness and clarity today.

I asked how mum was and the nurse told me that she has been in a bit of pain due to a build up of fluid in her arm and possibly her side, but the situation is now under control whatever that means ( morphine? ) Upset by this I asked to speak to a Doctor who was unavailable but I got the chance to speak to someone else.

Mum has now gone terminal, there is nothing more that can be done but pain control. The cancer has probably gone everywhere and its going everywhere at a rapid rate. They cant place a date of eventual death, but her body is now breaking down.

What do I say to this? What does one do?

I have been here before. The same situation with dad 10 years on. The same feelings are inside me now, but those feelings are now mixed into the feeling of closure. I cant cry, I have cried too much.

Crying is actually a comfort, it does soothe the pain. Being proactive is a great help too, and this year HAS to be my proactive yet. Otherwise one falls into a world, a dark world of pain and grief with anger.

I am the strongest out of my brothers now. They are in a bad way right now. We are a small, small family. So small, that when mum does pass away, I will be the only family member in Scotland. So we don’t have a massive base of support to help us through this time now.

The plans for post mother are now starting to take shape. Its going to be a scarier world without my mother. I never really told her that I appreciated her and everything she did for me when she was disease free. Only the unwelcome visitor of cancer got me to open up to her and we found each other before she was hospitalized. I am thankful that we got that chance. We always had a love hate relationship, arguing over silly things like everyone does. We are very alike, more alike than I care to admit.

This will be my last blog regarding my mother. I feel there has been enough said about it, and now for as long as my blog lives, this story will be available for all to read. I close this breast cancer story with talking to you directly.

Yes you. You have come across my blog via a web search and taken an interest in this story. because no doubt you close have been looking up for information on Breast Cancer as you have found something or you don’t go for regular mammograms.

If that is the case, read my posts in the breast cancer category. Read them well. Still in denial? Take a look into your future. My story is your future, like other families’ stories before my own. You cant continue like this.

You have to get it checked, regardless how afraid you are. You must confide in someone, and know that breast cancer (if it is ) is no death sentence when caught in time.

Unless you are like my mother. Living with it for a long time, blaming it on another illness that will go away in time.

It wont go away. You will go away.

Dont end your story like mum did. She had many more chapters left to fill.

You still have life, you still have time. You have your dreams ahead of you.

Value it.

I must apologise to regular readers by the recent lack of frequency of my postings. Its due to my current state of exhaustion. I’m too tired to do anything, and sometimes I feel that I should be the one in a hospice.

Too tired to do music, too tired to meet friends. Too tired to blog. Too tired.

When my mum was first diagnosed with breast cancer, we all believed that no matter how bad it can be that one would receive treatment and give her the best shot possible to at least overcome the illness and live for a few years more. They wont give her treatment due to her being weak. I constantly seek answers to my questions, but I never get them answered fully. Its grinding us all down, including my mother.

I am tired of the ‘ I think your mother is in denial ‘ retorts from Doctors, Oncologists, Nurses or anyone else who works in hospitals. I tell them as does she, that there is no denial. The woman only wants to walk again during her last months alive on this planet. Cancer is at the back of her mind. If she dwells on it, it gets her down.

I was unable to see mum this weekend at the hospice as I had to attend to a few matters on her behalf. Yet another bombshell was given to me by the nurse in casual conversation.

‘ Well your mum is very weak. She has not got out of her bed at all. ‘

I inform the Nurse about my concerns about the lack of treatment in the form of chemo, making it clear that I was told before Xmas that she would get it regardless of her condition.

‘ I don’t know about that. Does your mum want chemotherapy? ‘

What kind of a question is that? I just barely contained myself..

The nurse also told me that the cancer is in mum’s spine. This is the first time anyone has mentioned this to us.

Why cant a Doctor just tell us straight without spinning us yarns? Should I ask them ‘ Well where doesn’t she have cancer? ‘

These are testing times. Other families out there must go through the same kind of exhaustion that I and my family are enduring.

When I first started blogging, I never wanted this to turn into a Blog about cancer. But I feel that a blog is all about one’s feelings and thoughts. Mum dominates my thoughts every day now. Nothing else matters.

She is fading, and she looks to be fading fast. Within 24 hours of last sitting with her, her skin has a yellow tinge which confirms something is wrong with her liver. She now stares into space, and there is not ounce of strength in her voice left.

I sat and held her hand. There was no strength left. Over the last year, I finally noticed that my poor old soul of a mother was a strong woman who had a lot of knocks in her life, but somehow she walked over them. All that strength is gone now. Sitting holding her hand and squeezing it tight as if I was willing some of my strength to pass into her hand and try to fight what is now a lost battle.

I was not alone this evening as my brother flew up from England to see mum. Due to work commitments he last saw her at Xmas and he could not stop crying, nor could I. We decided not to inform her of the possible cancer spread. We just kept asking her to fight on. She looked at both of us and asked: ‘ How do I fight on? Can you tell me how to do it? ‘

She also spoke about leaving the hospice and walking again. Mum also spoke about her wish to go to England and live, finally getting peace from a roller-coaster of an unfulfilled life since dad left us.

But we knew as did she, that she never meant these things. Even in these last days, weeks or month she is shielding her grown up children from the harsh realities that we have to carry on without the emotional backbone of parents.

My brother said his goodbyes to her. Right now, it IS that bad. She lay there just looking at us, then into space, then at us again.I have not said my goodbyes.

I refuse to even though I am prepared of what is happening in front of me. I told her that I wouldn’t give up on her but I dread going to see her every night before she goes into the hospice.

It looks like its going to end soon. I am not religious, but I do hope there is an afterlife as I want to see my parents again one day at there best.

It is a nice thought that.