Day 6 - Tearful, gives way to Nausea

My younger sister calls me this morning, wanting to share with me what she's read online.  I understand she wants to feel helpful and as she said she really didn't know much about Melanoma.  I have been reading a few sites and  have learned plenty more than I already thought I knew.   I did promise the doctor not to find myself in chat rooms discussing Melanoma, for obvious reasons.   Too many people think they are somehow experts and think they have all the answers but I know each case is so unique in it's nature and in how that varies so greatly.


I drove to my brother's house this afternoon, and I did well; that is no tears in the car today-little victories get noticed these days.  Now I'm finding I have waves of fear which make me feel nauseous.   If you were to jump into my car and turn the ignition on there is a very good chance you would immediately find yourself reaching to turn down the radio.   The tunes are played a little louder these days and I sing a little louder while in the car.  It is helpful...I can't hear my own thoughts-and presently, that's a very good thing.
Upon arriving at my brother's I notice his truck is there, but then quickly find the house and garage all locked up and the truck is too.   I have cookies I baked for him and left them under the bbq cover with a note!   I will drive down Bolton St. to view the lake spotted with bright colours afforded by many ice huts.   I take a photo and drive on.   Tomorrow I will call Tommy, we'll talk then.
Somehow the tears don't come as easily now, but  instead waves of a nauseousness, the fear of the unknown . I'll have to work on this.
I bake cookies tonight and after having a visit with our daughter on route back to Toronto with her fiance, I deliver some to the theatre to the green room for the cast and crew to indulge in.   Once again I fear that I might somehow end up 'crumbling' on the utterance of some word or gesture, etc. so am happy to find the cast and crew; for the most part, are on stage or front of house.   I feel safe in controling my emotions long enough to say hello to the costume designer and tell her the cookies are there.  I am in and out and happy for another tear free day.  I haven't turned into a cold hard bitch, and certainly would ABSOLUTELY love to see these wonderful marvelous people; thank you Phoebe Gillman, whom I have not seen in some time.  Remember I missed the great gathering of lovelies recently in Grafton.  It's that I don't know how long I'm good for without turning into a blubbering mess upon a "trigger" word, question, moment, etc. and would very much like to spare everyone and myself from just such a moment...and they are deep into rehearsals and opening day just a couple of rehearsal's away!

Day 5 - One Ringy Dingy...Two Ringy Dingy...

It's a lay low kind of day, well...all phone calls aside.   Each of my sister's now knows and with each person knowing it's like having put a safety net in place keeping in mind the very slight possibility that in the end following surgery and the results I may need that safety net, or cocoon around me to help.   I am thinking positive. I managed to keep it pretty together in telling each sister, with only tiny snippits of choking back tears or gathering myself following a brief "takeover" by those powerful and persistent emotions.
I only need tell my brother now, when it comes to letting family know and then one day at a time and sharing when a moment allows and seems appropriate.
Between calls with/from my sister's  I have taken on an organizing task in the little back room; computer room and find satisfaction in doing that as well as knowing tomorrow will be a get out of the house day.  I'm going to need it.
Dinner tonight was the Three Fondue Buffet; quite possibly inspired by a recent brief stop at the Ontario Early Years one evening to drop off a package to the staff there, it was a special night out for centre Moms and they were all gathered 'round a rather delicious looking spread of food!   Spread out in a feast-like manner Swiss cheese and crusty loaf, Beef, and chocolate fondue with blueberries, raspberries, strawberries, blackberries, and pineapple and wine adorned our dinner table.  One must celebrate the numbing factor of wine and in my case it only takes just a little more than one glass!
Overall the tears did flow less again today.   A good night and I'm exhausted  and am certain to find sleep without labouring at it.

Day 4 - A Dog, Cookies n' Milk and parties missed.

It's my 1 in 8 Saturday Shift.   I must go to work.   Before I have even left John is called out for road duty.   I wonder will I see him when I return home.
Saturday means working with the younger set...the students and hearing of their "Good times" planned and those already having happened.  My shift ends at 12:30 which could actually translate to 1 p.m., with tidying, a couple of phone calls returned from messages received and such.
I make it through the morning.  I feel victorious today in having driven to work and home without tears.  I stop at the Shopper's Drug Mart with the intention of buying a bag of Oreos, I feel a dunk fest coming on.  I rarely buy cookies and today I buy four boxes; all on sale.  It's a three alarm craving apparently!
I arrive home to be greeted by our lovely dog Dash, after a quick snack we crash on the sofa.  We are in and out of a sleep state while the channel on the tv is showing the movie Sweet November.   Honestly couldn't  I have picked a sadder movie...I am thankful to miss the majority of it to sleep.
While outside walking with Dash sometime later John finds us, he is driving a small sander.  He departs again with the assurance we'll see him in about a half hour.   It's more than an hour when he is finally home again.
Home again for no more than twenty five minutes I'm sure and just as we finish our chilli and buns he is called away again.   He returns for the evening about two hours later and is needing sleep soon after his coming home this evening.
This night was to be such fun in joining so many wonderful lovelies at a friends home for a Family Day celebration and sure to include meeting many new friends!   Wednesday unfortunately is so fresh still and while I want to have a little fun to grasp for a while, I do not wish to end up in a corner with well meaning people gathered round to make me feel better or to share in my sadness.   The emotions take control when and where they so decide and I can't risk having them creep into the party and crash it!  Had John not been on call and could have driven to the party with me, I might have gone and joined in if only for an hour and a half or so.   Who knows what the emotional trigger might have been, but I know without any bit of doubt that those friends and even new acquaintances would be nothing less than supportive, understand and most caring. I almost feel guilty for not having gone.
Dash is good company, cookies and milk make for a great "fix" but parties missed are just that, parties missed and a longing to have fun and enjoy the company of people you have come to feel so at home with and yes, even feel they are part of your "rock"!

Day 2 - The shortest distance from pt. A to pt. B

Routine is the part of any morning that helps all go smoothly and this becomes that much more important this morning in making everything seem just as "normal" as any day.  No need for thought, just do what you always do.  I flow from one task to the next.    Washing for the day; having showered the night before, turn on the radio, plug in the straightener ; in order I may tame the unleashed and wild bangs in particular, dress, turn on the radio downstairs for our dog Dash; because the cats may choose to ignore him all day and the radio is some company.
I grab my coat and soon am out the door.  All goes quite well, I'm just fine!  ...until I drive off in the direction of work. Driving home the day before was not easy...ten minutes of unabashed crying.
The car is the most terrifying place to find myself alone these days.  Even the 5 minute stretch of highway between Port Hope and Cobourg is far too long a drive, though a much better choice than the additional 5 minutes it takes on Hwy. # 2.   I am desperate for background noise and must have the radio or a cd on, but even they cannot drown out the overwhelming volume of my own thoughts.
I'm o.k all day at work, though the second most frightening place is in the washroom cubicle.   How sad is this picture...a grown woman sitting upon the toilet working really hard to push back emotions that insist on finding their way to the surface.   Talking about "working hard" and "pushing" in the same sentence as the word "cubicle" had you wondering just where my thoughts were going didn't it!?  LOL...but there you go, the washroom becomes a frightening place!   Like I don't already hold "it" enough!
I was doing pretty good today and kept it together for the most part, then was asked if I could stay later, but I replied no, "I simply cannot today." .

Day 3 - The Telling Days

Last night we Skyped our two younger children, they share an apt. .  We had hoped they could both come home  on the weekend but our son is not able to.   I will feel much better knowing each of them knows...let the "secret beast" out and you become the greater power.  It certainly isn't something you ever imagine telling anyone.  Our son and daughter had some inkling something was up due to my having asked our son if he might be able to make it home this weekend, knowing he is working two jobs now and that wasn't a choice he could make.   There were tears and we ended the call with them sharing a hug...which did my heart so much good knowing they will be there for each other.


This morning started off as usual with routine rolling along and then suddenly without warning the tears began and I hadn't even found myself in the car yet.   This was additional minutes for teary eyes beyond the 5 minute drive to Cobourg in said condition.
Upon arriving at my destination...this morning at the United Way offices for a staff training event for a few of us. I thought I had pulled it together but proved myself wrong.   Upon entering the room and someone asking if everything was alright...yes, I crumbled.
Did I mention I work with some of the most supportive and understanding people ever?  They gave me the time I needed, to talk, to calm and then I returned to the room and went on with the rest of the day.
The evening would be a little harder, or I thought so as I headed to my parents to tell them about my latest adventure.   I pulled myself together and decided I would put on my strongest unafraid and confident all will be well front.   It was successful and while of course concerned they too held it together well.   I have had enough tears and breakdowns already and really needed to feel together if only briefly and if only in helping them to as well...for a short time!

The "c" word - Day 1

If you came to read this blog because I mentioned the "c" word, I might say you're dirty minded, but actually you're more likely just curious and truly I wish it was that word that I was talking about.   That "c" word is more often than not considered vulgar, and once in auditioning for a play I chose a part to read because it had THAT "c" word in it, I was afraid of it and thought it so crude, so harsh, when actually the "c" word I'm going to talk about really seems an equal in the impact it has on one when you say it and yes one immediate reaction is fear and disbelief.
Today Wednesday Feb. 15th, 2012; also my son's birthday,  seems certain to be one of the days I'd like to forget but likely one you can't help but remember.  For him for his birthday today, I will remind him how much he is loved and wish him a day of so many good wishes and will share the unimaginable news I have received sometime later on.
   I was in stitches just prior to the moment I'd like to forget. That's right, actual stitches in my back for what one assumed was a rather boring and minor removal of a mole.  This time is most definitely like none before.  The very handsome Doctor removing my stitches; approx. 6 total, uttered quietly but clearly to me that, "Well Cathy this was more serious than just a mole, it is Melanoma; Cancer.".  Just the words one never tries to imagine hearing.  One feels a little numb and it's a bit surreal and I then imagine myself an actor in a dramatic role, rehearsing for a production.
  Me, playing me but this was not a rehearsal and I don't care much for my lines.   These lines are not the ones you have rehearsed, they just happen.  Thank heaven's for hunky doctors, it does help!   LOL!  Though I forgot my lines; as if in a movie and when I should have been saying, "Oh Doctor" (whilst batting my eyelashes), I simply say, "It is?", not at all like the movies!  I should have pinched myself and then I might have wakened up.  Or requested we do a game of the many other "C" words that one might have enjoyed much more!   I return to the waiting area where they instantly have you fill out a medical questionnaire, go over it with you, hand you some papers with a preset surgical date and pre-op date on it and then send you on your way..."See you soon.".    And you're out!
...And once I'm outside walk nervously and rather sedately back to my car.  I head back to work, wondering how one proceeds from here.  Then the tears come.   From this morning on being in the car alone for any venture more than 5 minutes just isn't fathomable. I set up an appointment with my family doctor while sitting in my car, in the parking lot, wondering just how to continue my day, actually go to work and then go home to tell my husband; John, how my day went..  I made up my mind I simply had to, only because I didn't know what else to do.   My boss' car was not there, so going to her office wasn't an option. I headed in as per normal, prepared to carry on, do a circle time, sing, be happy with the little ones over their amazing creativity at the craft table and just be "normal"!
Later my boss comes through, asks about the appt. and knows by my look and I can't hide it and crumble.  She calls for a friend/colleague of ours who has walked in these shoes and we gather in her office to talk.  I can't go home, there is no-one there and I do feel I need to carry on and fulfill my afternoon duties in Child Care, where staff shortages are an ongoing challenge for the Supervisor.   I tidy up, pinch my cheeks for optimal colouring and head off to do my job.
On my return home that day, I tell John; hubby, as soon as we are both in the door.   I cry and he is my rock and tells me I'll be fine and we hold each other for several moments.
At dinner we tell our eldest son.   I am thankful he brings some humour to the table, mentioning he knows someone who is researching availability and benefits to medicinal marijuana!  It's good to share a laugh; I say I'll be keeping that in mind.
We both go to bed at 10 P.M, unusually early for me and I sleep well until I awaken just after 2 a.m., make a trip to the loo and return to bed to lie awake, while trying so hard to go to sleep only to be distracted by my silent meandering oh so very loud and obnoxious thoughts. Each thought as if waste in a galaxy orbiting in outer space in slow motion.  Tears come easily, John wakens pulls me close and whispers "You're going to be just fine.", kisses my forehead and wraps his arm around me.   Eventually I give myself to sleep, at last.

...Where you never imagine you'll be - The "c" Word.

From Feb. 15th,  I have been writing every day.   That I write every day may not seem like a big deal, but presently for me it is a very big deal.   Many people write daily, including my Dad, as a friend attested to just yesterday, if nothing else he will have recorded the days weather.  I do like to write but have never imagined that I might one day be writing because I am suddenly one of so many included in a specific group of people, those who fall into the "c" category, writing about the "C" word; Cancer.  I have Melanoma.
I may just end up being one of the lucky ones but like everyone else there is much waiting in truly knowing where you stand in your full diagnosis.    March 9th I will have surgery where the surgeon will do a large excision and a sentinel lymph node biopsy and if I am lucky, that will be the last of it...the melanoma will have been eradicated.   I will know one week to ten days following the surgery.
There is a post for each day since Feb. 15th.
From where I am, it's a "circus" of emotions, all over the map and the "c" word is everything you never wanted to feel.
I like that, a "circus" of emotions.

It's real.

Cold bites at my feet, I shiver.
Everyone is near, but I feel alone.
Sorrow  calls again.
There must be a mistake, because this doesn't feel real.
My son is right, Cancer is a bitch.

Numb

That moment.
Numb, numbness.
Hearing but there is silence.
Speaking but mute.
A freeze frame, and when there is movement, slow motion.
I cannot grasp it, everything changes.
They talk and point and question.
I follow but not knowing where I go.
How to do tomorrow, how to do the next moment.
My heart sinks.
Numb.

What seems like just yesterday...Once Upon a Christmas..

     Today has been a very productive day, working outside to finally complete pre-winter yard work and to have pre-Christmas preparations underway.

     I have come in this evening to work at a particular story when I came across this story written some time ago, when the children were well on in their teens and the youngest at least a preteen.

Reading this through it's hard to imagine we are now well beyond those years.

It's true, life is change and every few years we will find ourselves amazed at what we have learned in facing many changes and how much we have grown from those changes.  

Christmas is definitely one of the seasons in our years when we reflect on so much.  I'm doing a little reflecting this evening after having read this old piece while working on a new piece in the hopes  of sharing it in time for Christmas.

Once Upon a Christmas

By Cathy Nevin

  In every corner of every room there is always something out of place, most often it’s toys!  Lego creations steal every portion of the diningroom floor that would otherwise be available to step up to ones chosen place of seating at the table.  In the boys closet a Playmobil village has sprung up in the last twelve hours; in the closet to keep it unannounced to abombinable monster that would be their little sister!  As the monster grows to her own age of grand creativity her room becomes either Barbie Suburbia or the local grocery store, where intruding brothers only shop when given special invitation!

That was then, this is now and toys have been set aside in the Rubbermaid Totes, claiming a corner of the basement!  Now the out of place items seem to be socks that never made it to the laundry, but have been plunged to the dark recesses beneath the sofa cushions, a multitude of shoes and collections of teen movie, music and horse and rider magazines. I think this too shall pass and realize rather sadly, that is just how we came to be at this point in our life…the days of lego, dollys’, sticky finger prints and table forts have indeed passed. Our children have evolved as the playmobil closet is now just full of clothes for the younger brother in his paint blackened room, the elder brother has moved into what he refers to as his basement apartment and the little sisters once Bubblegum pink, Barbie adorned room has a gentler colour scheme and is adorned by all that is horses!

With Christmas not so far I notice the Christmas catalogue has nary a dog eared page, no pages missing and even about three months after it’s arrival looks relatively untouched!  Santa won’t hear from my children this year and it now dawns on me it’s been a couple of years since our youngest wrote. Perhaps I’ll write; not willing to let go!  Santa always seemed to make the perfect choice, despite the painstaking task of prioritizing the list.  Now rather than hand me a page ripped in sheer excitement from the Sears catalogue, I might find sticky notes with short scribes, written with excitement equal to and resembling their earliest indecipherable notes to Santa all those years ago!   As big as our children wish to be seen; maturity, age, etc., Christmas morning they are suddenly regressed to those excitable little tots whom you lost count of how many times have entered your room asking, “ What time is it”.  With the right amount of sleep, we treasure that our children continue to awaken us with eyes bright and full of wonder asking for permission to retrieve their stockings!  We are reminiscing while learning to embrace their new age; not to mention ours!

I wish you with young children a long winters nap Christmas Eve, as I know “with eyes bright and full of wonder”, can begin as early as 4am Christmas Day! Whether young or young at heart may you keep the child in you and share all that Christmas truly is.

It's real.

Cold bites at my feet, I shiver.
Everyone is near, but I feel alone.
Sorrow has come and will come again.
There must be a mistake, because this doesn't feel real.
My son is right, Cancer is a bitch.

Words to the Soul

The words from the paper fill me with such a sorrowful realization
Though there is love all 'round, darkness will fall.
While not fully understood each one digests the truth in their own way.

I have read beautiful but wakening, sad words.
My eyes well up, a sting of tears upon my face and the sting of truth upon my heart.