bad and good

September 2010

Bad news: my Dad has grade 4 glioblastoma multiforme brain cancer (evil aggressive fast growing cancer in an advanced stage)
Good news: this cancer is highly researched due to it's devilish nature so there are more treatment options

Bad news: my Dad starts radiotherapy and chemotherapy later this month
Good news: the clinic is in the top 5 clinics world-wide in treating this condition

Bad news: my Dad's cognitive abilities are affected
Good news: he thinks he's fine

Bad news: he has a 50% chance of surviving 14 months
Good news: he has utter belief that he will be one of the 50% who makes it

Bad news: I am an insomniac
Good news: tequila sunrises and sleeping pills = good nights rest

Bad news: My Dad is grumpy and belligerent
Good news: this is normal (!)

Bad news: my sisters and I are struggling
Good news: my aunt arrives on Sunday from South Africa for 5 weeks followed by another aunt

Bad news: my Mom is also stage 4 terminal lung cancer
Good news: she is responding well to the current chemotherapy

Bad news: this is all horrible
Good news: we have a faithful God who has promised us an eternity with Him

Bad news: how the heck did this happen to us?
Good news: I have amazing friends (this means you, thank you for being awesome x)

call me if you need anything

In the bleak winter of emotion we find ourselves in as a family, there have been some wonderful moments. Moments where I am reminded that I am loved and cherished. I have some amazing friends.

Darling Meg turning up with with a DVD for the kiddies and "love" blocks because she loves me and can't think of what else to do.

Sweet Liv, the secret blog lurker giving me a package on Sunday at church. With yarn! Soft amazing yarn. This was so thoughtful (I cried)

And beautiful Gail, struggling with her own battles yet seeing me in mine. Knowing my Starbucks-crush and giving the perfect time out gift.

These mean so much to me as the words that I hear the most are "Call me if you need anything." And without being unkind I can't do anything with those words. The reality is that by the time I have had a million conversations about my parents, each weighing me down as I am faced again with their mortality, looked after my family, organised things I did not think of organising for many years and tried to work, the last thing I have energy for is to contact someone with a request.

What I need and what anybody needs in the same boat, is someone to do something specific. Sometimes I am not sure quite what I need either and something is always better than nothing. So a meal is good, a bunch of flowers, a text to say I am praying for you or I thought of you today. A facebook message to say I love you...

An amazing example is the day we moved. I was exhausted. Simoney rang (and rang a few times) to see what she could do. And eventually suggested lunch. I had not even given lunch a thought and we were between houses and packed up. She arrived with an abundance of food, disposable cutlery and crockery, her own knives and a cutting board and drink (with disposable glasses). I felt so loved.

Oh friends, to be honest this journey is bigger than what we can cope with. My Dad's cancer is worse than my Mom's and the prognosis is bad. Seriously bad. My Mom's big sister arrives in a week and I can't wait. She's a hospice (terminally ill) nurse so will help us prepare mentally, emotionally and physically.

I know my God is in this. We truly trust him. It's just that the woods are awfully dark right now and it's a little scary.

P.S. Yes that's a new blog sitting on my profile waiting for me to find time to complete it. It's getting so many page views which is stressing me out. It's not ready and I need to launch it. So ignore it for now (pretty please)

back

Somewhere in the last month or five (or longer) I lost my Dad. He slowly became grumpy and belligerent. He grew intolerant and could not be with us for longer than 5 minutes before becoming bored. I can't even put my finger on when it started.

Last night I sat in the high dependency unit with my Dad and realised he's back. In the dim light surrounded by beeps and alarms and murmurs, I found him.

I held his hand and talked. I cried with relief and he patted my hand and told me "Not to worry, my sausage." I poured out my heart and he thanked me for sharing. He listened and talked and made sense. Oh, he made delightful sense.

The tragedy of all of this is that my Dad is one of the most intelligent people I have ever known. He has a string of degrees and knows things I will never know. The tumors were stripping that away and it was hard to see. His intelligence was dulled.

But he's back! Within hours of the surgery my sparkly, bright Dad is back. The one who makes plans and thinks streets ahead of anyone else. The one who thinks I am fantastic and tells me he's proud of me. My Dad. He's back.

life shots

Thank you so much for your loving comments, texts and emails, friends. We feel encouraged and supported by you and your prayers.

My Dad does indeed have two tumours in his brain. An apricot and a grape as I like to think of them. He's had all the tests he needs to and he has been transferred to Auckland hospital. After another MRI he is waiting for surgery to remove the suckers. We hope that it will happen this afternoon.

My Mom is coping with the chemo and in a funny way coping a bit better now that she needs to focus on Dad. His situation is lifting her above her own. Sometimes my head spins at the knowledge BOTH my parents are seriously ill with cancer at the same time.

Anyway.

So... we moved!

Our new house is much bigger and we are settling in and doing battle with the boxes. When I say that the house was filthy, those words don't even come close to describing it. And the owners got a commercial cleaner in before we moved in. All I need to say for you is that Dida has used an abrasion wheel on his drill to get the imbedded dirt/fat/oil off the stove elements. Apply that to the rest of the house and you get the picture.

Other than the dirt and the effect that has had on my clean-freak persona, the house is lovely. The kiddies love the flat back yard and space to play. The "new one house" is a success!

the week

This little space has been vacant for the last week or so, my apologies for that. It's hard to put words around things so I will do my best.

This dry run? It was the truth. After some niggly feelings and a deep conviction in my heart I called the oncologist. His blunt words were very hard to hear but at the same time refreshing. My Mom started a course of chemo on Monday and is doing ok. She has to be ok and weather this chemo and the symptoms. No choice really.

My Dad has been displaying some very worrying symptoms and my sisters and I were at our wits end last last week. I talked to my Dad over the weekend and despite his denials we managed to get him to the doctor on Monday. He's been in hospital since and has two tumours in his brain.  At this stage we don't know much about them and he is undergoing testing.

Add to this we are moving house. This post sounds like those atrocious posts you read where you thank God it's not your life. But it is my life. And we have to put one foot in front of the other and be ok. I am actually as fine as I can be, God's Grace is amazing.

His Word is immensely comforting as is this...

Beautiful

Happy New Year, friends! May 2013 be filled with love and laughter xxx

I had a little secret late last year. And I couldn't tell on my blog, even though it's my safe space, as my sisters read it. It was a Christmas surprise.

My Mom was told about her cancer relapse on my birthday (remember this?) None of us knew what the next couple of months would held and I just wanted to hold my Mother in that space, on the 8th November forever.

I asked her if I could organize a photo shoot for her as soon as possible. So the following Monday she did the same session as I did for my business shots. They did her hair and makeup and she had a wonderful time. The photographer knew about the whole situation and they treated my Mom like a queen (rightly so!)

The shots were simply beautiful and they took our breath away. I had them framed and gave the framed  photos to my Dad on Christmas day. He loved them.

Here are some of the shots of my gorgeous mother. Isn't she amazing?

dry run

Yesterday we sisters had a dry run for when news is really bad.

I was driving home on a high after having coffee with friends. My middle sister calls. Have I been on facebook she asks? No, was my reply. She starts sobbing. This is posted on facebook by my aunt....

Ruth is having all sorts of tests done to precisely identify the type of cancer cell. Depending on what it is, she will have a course of medication preceding the actual chemotherapy. Chemo is being given to reduce production of fluid and relieve discomfort and pain. She has stage 4 cancer - terminal. All treatment from now on is given to keep her comfortable. But God ......... Thank you for your prayer support. Bless you.

This is NOT what we had been told. We had been told that my Mom's cancer is inoperable but we are hopeful that treatment will at the very least extend her life indefinately. But we had no reason to doubt this post. This is my Mom's big sister, who is a hospice nurse and spoke to my Mom the day before.

I try my Mom's phone, the friend who is with her (in hospital while they drain the fluid in her chest cavity) and my Dad. No-one answers their phone. To be honest, I freaked out.

My middle sister comes over to my house and we are faced with a horrible decision. Do we call our youngest sister and tell her what we have read to save her reading it cold? Or do we wait until we hear from my parents and hope that she wouldn't go onto facebook in the meantime? We decided we couldn't chance her reading it and I call her. It was awful.

While we spoke to my youngest sister my middle sister and I sat side by side on the couch. We leaned into one another and as we talked on the phone there was such solidarity. We were together facing a monster. It was horrible but we were together.

Eventually my Dad called and clarified the situation. My aunt had assumed a whole lot of stuff. It was the sweetest phone call. Yes, this is bad. Yes, it's life threatening. But we are in the fighting zone and believe that treatment can work! My Mom is NOT terminal. The end.

P.S. The coffee I has was with two amazing bloggers- Cat and Leonie. I felt like I had known them forever- they are fabulous. Real and kind and normal. If you can get to spend time with them, grab it with both hands!

thanks

Thank you so very much for the deluge of kind words, encouragement and love. Emails, texts, face book messages, comments and blog love = amazing. This is why I love blogging. It's not a business for me, it's friendship and as the lines between real life and the internet blur I love each of you more.

Thanks, my friends.

So. Tonight my Mom meets with the oncologist. In about 45min in fact, and we will know the nature of the beast we face. It will have a name and a description and a timing. I admit that I am terrified. But I know that just because someone with green shoes (true) and a long list of letters behind his name calls the beast something does NOT mean it has jurisdiction over my mother's life.

The end.

I have had some good times over the last couple of days. Dida organized a birthday extravaganza that got sabotaged by the beast to some extent but Friday bight was a goodie. He organized some of my closest friends to go out to dinner with me. Some people were missing (hello Gail) But I had a wonderful time.

Then on Saturday I got to have lunch with Megs from MNMs. My gosh this girl is wonderful. She's tiny, wears mint green jeans, likes gluten free cake and is truly as lovely as she comes across on her blog.

Loved these two bits of cheer in the middle of everything else!

happy (not) birthday

Yesterday we got news that none of us expected. My mother is very ill. The cancer has returned and is inoperable.

Last Saturday my Mom left Rupi's birthday party early to got o the local hospital ER. She was in terrible pain and the doctors discovered a build of fluid in her chest cavity. Not unusual where a lung has been removed but unusual this far after chemo/ surgery. And tests indicated cancer in her chest cavity lining which is inoperable.

So officially the worst birthday of my life. But that fact shrank to insignificance in the shadow of what is happening. Instead of going out to celebrate last night my sisters gathered at our house with my parents and we battened down the hatches. We cried and talked and read scripture. It was where we needed to be.

We are reeling.

We face more chemo and treatment. It's different this time. This time it's not preventative but palliative. Not a word we are accepting right now but it does mean that this fight is serious.

So my friends, this blog may be a little cancer focused for a while. And even more than that- God focused. If this offends you, please accept my heartfelt apologies. But this is who I am and where I turn. I can't do this without my God, nor do I want to.

We stood on these verses a while ago. And they resonate with me again...

But mightier that the violent raging of the seas,

mightier than the breakers on the shore

The Lord is mightier than these

Your royal decrees cannot be changed

The nature of Your Reign, O Lord, is holiness forever. Psalm 93: 4-5