You might have noticed that I haven’t been around for a while. Life became very complicated and I needed a little time to acknowledge the difficult feelings that came about. The gritty facts are Mother had her cancerous kidney removed in January and it all seemed fine, but after many X-rays the diagnosis was that the cancer had spread to her lungs. She was offered chemotherapy but has refused, instead wishing nature to take its course.
And that’s where my dilemma started. As a long time advocate of medicine, in particular medicine that has progressed beyond all recognition in the last fifty years, I begged her to see an oncologist, to take it a step further, just to see what they had to say. Bearing in mind that she had complained that she hadn’t understood the surgeon very well as there was a little difficulty with his accent and had seen her GP to have everything explained to her. I wanted her to speak to people who are right at the cutting edge of what would have been available to her. But she has quietly and steadfastly refused. And there is the rub, I know as a grown up, that I must allow her to make her own end of life decisions. But it is difficult and causes tears to spurt out of my eyes with astonishing speed. She is not in pain and continues as though nothing is happening. And long may that last.
At the same time.
Hubby has been suffering with lack of breath. We’ve had numerous emergency trips to the hospital, he’s seen many consultants, coupled with blood tests and X-rays. After many, many months while watching his condition worsen, we finally have a diagnosis of heart failure coupled with the news that there is nothing they can do. We’ve both agreed with the idea of ‘what do doctors know’ and he’s become much more active, walking to the plot instead of driving and generally pottering about a little more. Which can only be a good thing. We intend to have a good summer, doing what we do, pottering at the plot or photographing from a hide and generally tootling around doing stuff we enjoy, as I feel the swell of the waves gently take us back out to sea after high tide.
Normal service will be resumed shortly.
3 thoughts on “The tide of life.”
Oh Mandy, life is never easy is it and particularly not for you. So sorry about Barry’s diagnosis but I hope he can reverse it a little with more exercise and as far as your mum, she’s hopefully of sound mind and able to make her own decisions and unfortunately, you have to accept that. I will do what she is doing if it ever happens to me. I also, have no wish to go through chemotherapy and all that it entails.
You are a strong lady and I hope you get through all this without too much suffering.
I will Jenny, I will. I have a lot to be grateful for, thank you for your lovely thoughts, they mean so much. X
Scary times for you and yours. Sending hugs!