My nest is emptying a little

I'm scared. There. I've said it. Scared may even be an understatement. Here's the backstory - I tried for almost 3 years to conceive my son. Eventually, I did so, and he is my precious firstborn. He's now 9, and in grade 3, time is flying by at a pace I cannot keep up with. We started trying for a second child when he was just 6 months old, knowing how long it had taken to get him, and aware the same challenge may present itself. In fact, it was worse. It took five long, pain filled years, rounds of clomid, of artificial inseminations, of giving up altogether, then of IVF and finally, finally, my beautiful daughter was conceived and came into this world. She is turning 4 next month. You know what that means, right?

It means next year she is off to kindergarten. 15 hours a week there, before beginning school in 2014. And I... I can hardly bear to think of it. That sounds dramatic, but you must understand how longed for my babies were. How much I have valued every second that slips past faster than I can grab onto it. How much I enjoy their company. When RJ was just two months old, my Mum was diagnosed with breast cancer. That first year of her life was a blur of chemo, surgeries, and fear. Not to mention the masters thesis that I had to write and submit. Mum is now three years cancer free, my masters is completed, and my baby girl is about to start leaving the nest.

I don't know how to prepare myself for this. Just thinking about it makes tears well up on my eyes and my heart pound. I know I am overreacting and I know I will adjust. God help me when they leave home. I am going back to school next year, so that will help me stay busy while she is gone. I have the Two Vegan Girls project to invest myself in. I just know I will feel like I am missing a limb when my little sidekick is no longer here beside me, permanently. It will be okay... right?? :(

Screw you, cancer!

An update for you on my dearest Lea. I have good news people! Post chemotherapy and Leanne has just had a bunch of tests which have shown... duh duh duh dunnnnn - NO CANCER!!!! She's cancer free! How awesome is that?! So thrilled. What a fighter huh? What an enormous inspiration and so incredibly lucky that she found it early enough to fully treat, given that's really rare with ovarian cancer.  Take THAT cancer!!!

So, out of all of this has come something super amazing. The "Let's ova-run cancer" fundraising auction. All proceeds are going to Ovarian Cancer Australia, and it was all inspired by Leanne. Her amazing friends wanted to do something to help, since there was nothing they could do for Leanne herself, they tackled the next best thing. Funds for more research and earlier diagnoses tools.

The auction has taken off! Over one hundred items are up for bids, starting July 31. The auction will last for a week so there is plenty of time to get a bid in (and up it as needed to win, naturally!) It's happening on facebook here. Some of the items you can grab a bargain on include signed football and rugby jerseys, photography shoots, wine, an iPad, kids clothing and toys, jewellery, you name it, it's in there. Go and have a look, make a bid, win some stuff. Assuming you can beat me, of course. :P

The Tea Party - Intimate gig

I've mentioned The Tea Party a few times on this blog. They are the band that taught me what music can do. What it should do. Before them, I liked music and it was great, but hearing them showed me that music can actually move you. I'm sure you've heard people say that before but have you ever really felt it?  I don't mean "wow, good song, I can move to this" - I mean, my eyes are closed and I don't know where I am because this music consumes me, hits my soul, and literally transports me to another plane. That's what these guys do. THAT is what musicians can do, what true, raw talent can do.

On April 26th, I was lucky enough to score a guest list spot for an intimate, unadvertised promo gig at the Cherry Bar in Melbourne. Just a handful of contest winners, friends, and associated press and so on were in the bar for a fantastic performance of just a few songs to whet the appetite for the bands upcoming tour in July.

You must understand that this band broke up. I thought I would never see them again live and they move me like nothing else ever has so to be in amongst this group, hearing that music again absolutely melted my soul. I closed my eyes and I could not stop smiling. They're back. I almost wept with joy!

Below are links to two performances from that night. You can hear the talent, you can see the skill and you can envy we few who were lucky enough to be there! Next month, the band kick off their Reformation Tour in Melbourne and you can bet your arse I will be there. I only wish I were rich enough to fly around Australia for each and every gig to make the most of the opportunity!! Do yourself a favor, get yourself some tickets. They're also promoting a live double album that they will record whilst out there. You can score a download and some awesome extra items by pledging to help them make it (and to donate to the Steve Hoffman Fund for Cancer Research. Vinyl people! VINYL!

Now listen and be moved...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_WgUBXGKnM4

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EtuAERdBpcU

Mothers Day

I was sulking today about the crap day I had had for mothers day. I was still finding blessings in my 2 beautiful children, the fight I had to get them, and the appreciation I have for them - but I still felt a bit off side.

Then an out of the blue message on facebook from a dear friend, who told me that she had run in todays Mothers Day Classic, in honor of my Mum. It's a fundraiser for breast cancer research, and, as you know, My mum battled, fought and won a supreme victory over breast cancer in 2009.

It hit me hard. I have my mum still. I could easily not have. I am so, so, very lucky. So I wrote this for her, immediately after. Happy Mothers Day, Mum xx

It's moments out of nowhere...

Sometimes, I havent thought about it for months.

Then, like a punch to the stomach - I am winded by reminders.

And I remember, how incredibly lucky I am.

This mothers day, I don't care what I miss out on.

This mothers day, I don't care how bad the weather is.

This mothers day, I am just so incredibly grateful,

That I can still celebrate you, my mother.

Thank you, for being my best friend.

I know that I can tell you anything. 

Even when we disagree, we care.

Thank you, for loving me so honestly.

Thank you, for emailing me every morning.

Even when, we have nothing much to say.

Thank you, for doing all you do for me.

Often, I don't even have to ask. 

You are the most important and valuable person,

in my life. Every single day.

I am so incredibly grateful you are my mother.

We're alike in so many ways.

Thank you for being my role model.

This sounds a funny thing to say - But thank you, for beating cancer.

I appreciate you. Entirely.

The mother you are, the friend you are, the person you are.

Happy Mothers Day.

Love Kell xxx

Another aside

Firstly, the vegan living is going brilliantly. So enjoying it, and I discovered this Vegan Cupcakes book is available in the form of an iphone app for $5. WINNING. I'm enjoying discovering new ingredients and new ways of cooking still - all stuff my mate Christie had told me long ago that finally clicks into place now. I feel healthy and alive. Yay!!

But, as an aside, I want to send another shout out to my mate, Leanne. She's half way through her chemo now, truckin along like a true champ. But it's starting to hit hard, she's feeling the effects of that poison on her system now, and whilst we know its gotta happen to kill of those pesky cancer cells, sadly it also decimates anything else in it's path. It's pretty unforgiving that way.

She's feeling tired, sick, and pretty craptacular as a result. All part of the cancer road, makes me stabby that she has to run it. As always, she handles it with spectacular grace and wit. She's all kinds of awesome!

Here's my question and please, please, please - if you comment on no other blog today, make it this one - what can I do to help her out? I'm on the other side of the country, so that makes it tricky to say the least. But there must be a present I can send her, or a plan I can form for when she's well again, or something I can do aside from send platitudes and well wishes that while nice, do sweet fuck all in reality. HALP!

No doubt Lea will read this anyway, so it won't necessarily be a surprise, but that might work too. Oi Lea, whaddya need honey child!? Sigh. I love this girl so much. It breaks my heart that she is going through this. Sometimes, I have a wee weep to myself about it, but that's even more useless than platitudes and well wishes so I suck it up and get on with it. Geebus if she can I sure as hell can.

Next weekend, the 12th May, I am volunteering to walk around the Rebels match collecting for Ovarian Cancer Australia, even though I am spending that day lifting and moving house. I know, I know, I'm superwoman, clearly. Point is, it's SOMETHING I can do for Lea, in a round about way. But I'd love to have a greater direct impact on my dear friend. Hit me with your ideas. Go!!

My mate, Lea.

I've talked about my friend Lea here before. She's pretty awesome, as I said. Funny as fuck. You know what else? She's brave, and she has grace. She is inspiring, strong, and basically, flat out amazing.

You hear people say these kind of things about their friends sometimes. You hear it tossed about here and there... People call ME strong, but I got nothing on Lea. You have to read this entry in her blog HERE. Please, go read it. Tell her you are blown away by her attitude. Because seriously? She's fucking 30. I am 34, I have 4 years on this girl and I have nothing on her emotional grace. I could never handle this like Lea. But this IS Leanne. This is who she is, who she's always been. Maybe the cancer, chemo and crap that goes with it is just highlighting it better, but this is Leanne. I'm so glad I can call her a friend. I'm so proud that I've always had her back and she's always had mine. Through thick and thin. Good and bad. Hair and no hair. I adore her.

I read that post of hers, and after I was proud, and after I sat here shaking my head at her positivity and brilliant attitude, I had a bit of a freak out. A case of the 'but what if's...' It's the most serious kind of dread and fear you can experience. Been here before. But then I read the post again. There is no way in hell she won't get through this, I can feel it. I can see it. Look at her!!! Look at her not only handle this, but kick its fucking ARSE!!!! So fucking proud. You're a bloody legend, Lea. I love you.

Friends, old school style.

Some of my mates, especially those I've made online, I've had for freakin YEARS. One such lass, is Lea. Lea and I have been mates, must be going on 10 years or so now. Easy. We've met IRL, and we've spent hours on chats and emails and phone calls over the years. The last few have been pretty awesome for Lea, and with life being hectic for myself, we haven't been in as much contact.

But ya know, this is one of those awesome friendships that picks up where it left off as though nothing ever changed. We can go months without a proper catch up, then it just clicks back in and we cruise again. These are the very best types of friendship. Low maintenance for the win!!!!

Anyhoo, actually, first, I have to share this stupid story - Lea and another friend, Sheri and I were all on msn chatting... this was years ago, and somehow we got to making puns on that song "my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard" and slogans that we felt could be printed on underwear to make us a killing. I don't think I've ever laughed so hard in my life. Tears, wheezing and achey sides laughing it was. That's Lea though, shes fucking funny.

Anyhoo, the reason I am blogging about her today, is coz she's having a shit of a time. After an amazing few years where she met the love of her life, and married him in an amazing surprise ceremony on her 30th, she's just recently been diagnosed with ovarian cancer. I'm pretty fucked off about it, to be honest. Cancer is such a bullshit, arse of a disease. Lea's too young, and got too much awesome in her life to have to jump this hurdle. It makes me stabby. Look, you can say 'well, if anyone can do it, she can' and that's true. The girl has chutzpah you can't even imagine. But that's beside the point. I don't want her to go through this shit. In fact, I am having a tantrum about it and I WILL kick and scream and stomp my feet at the unfairness of it. I'm mad. I watched Mum battle breast cancer and chemo and radio therapies. I saw it drain her, hurt her, and weaken her. I also watched how she changed as a result of it, and she grew soooo much stronger. She is emotionally and physically such a strong woman, I can only imagine how Lea will come out of this. Wonder Woman.

Anyway, keep my mate in your thoughts, send her love and happy, and don't tippy toe around the fact she's scored herself a date with Cancer. She knows it, we know it, and it's fucked. Stay strong for her, don't get emotional - look after yourself or support one another, but don't make her be brave for YOU. Just be the same as ever, if you can manage it, and she'll know you're there if she needs you.

Love you, Leanne.

Happy thoughts?

Tomorrow Mum is going in for her surgery. As you can read here, she had thought cancer was back, but apparently, it's not. The lump she had gone for is now gone, but they say that shouldn't be happening so soon after her surgery 2 years ago. So, they want to go in a take a look around and check everything is okay. I guess it is largely precautionary. Mum is happy for it to be happening and wanting the peace of mind anyway. She has really struggled with what went on the other week, it shook her terribly, I can't even imagine how it would have felt.

Anyway, so she goes in for surgery tomorrow morning. She will SMS or call me when she is out again. My auntie (her twin sister) just emailed asking if I was worried. I said no, then I said actually, yes. Mostly, because it just brings back the memories of her surgery for cancer. Of the hospital visits for chemotherapy and stuff. It is SO hard to tell myself THIS IS DIFFERENT. It just feels so similar.

Please keep her (and me!) in your thoughts tomorrow. I'll be nervous until I get the all clear call. Whilst results will take a while to come through, if anything untoward IS found, she will find out right away. It'll be okay. I know it.

Happy Fathers Day

Today is fathers day. I've done my best to make sure the kids Dad was spoiled and looked after, not sure if I succeeded or not, though.

It's been a while since I last blogged. A lot has happened.

On Monday night, I went to see Anberlin in concert. It was a 26 song set. HUGE. Such a freaking awesome show, really enjoyed myself, loved it. I wanted to go again! What's great is they recorded a DVD at the show so I'll be able to experience it again and again in time!

Mum watched the kids, she seemed fine, maybe slightly distracted. There is no way in hell I'd have guessed she was told that morning that her cancer was back. No way. And stupid me waffled on about it being her 2 year cancer free anniversary. Facepalm. I am retelling this casually, because as it turns out, her cancer is NOT back. How can such a mistake be made? What happened was that she found another breast lump and went to the oncologist who ordered a biopsy, bone scan and CAT scan, and told her the cancer was back and she would need to make an appointment with the surgeon for a mastectomy. She mentioned this to NO ONE. Not even my Dad until the next night. She was certain this was it, and her number was up. How utterly terrifying. The oncologist seems to have assumed her lump was the cancer returning. What the hell?? It was not until THURSDAY, that's a whole 4 days later, that she went to see the surgeon who looked at the biopsy results and could see NO SIGNS OF CANCER. Her bone and CAT scans were also clear. He believed the lump was a blood blistery thing but wants to open it up and check to make sure. But no, its NOT cancer. I had been trying to call her Thursday morning and been unable to get on to her. I was immediately worried, as I knew she was having the scan (I assumed it was part of the end of 2 years cancer free deal), and was worried she had had bad news. Anyway, I finally got hold of her and she said "I was told on Monday my cancer was back and I've only just found out it's not. I'm a blithering mess. Can I call you back soon?" I calmly and reassuringly said of course, no problem, all good. I hung up the phone and burst into tears. It was such a fright, even knowing it wasn't so. I know she didn't mention it in order to protect me, but I wish she hadn't carried it alone too.

Anyway, its taking her some time to get over the shock and fear. I honestly cannot imagine what that must have been like for her. Hell. Absolute hell. I could kick that oncologist fair in the shins. I am encouraging her to write a letter of complaint, not for any outcome than to feel shes worth standing up for and saying "hey, this was NOT okay to put me through." It took me a day or so to get over my own tears and wobbliness of it, I imagine it will take her some time yet.

On that same Thursday, I went to see my doctor about my holter monitor results, and was told they were not yet back. She called the place that reviews them and asked for it to be made priority and said she would call me that afternoon - or 2 days later as she had a day off. I just wanted an answer :(

I called on Friday and the nurse said she couldn't tell me as she wasn't qualified too - which only worried me more. Agai with my fear taking hold. I really am unsure how to work on it. Anyway, at 9am Saturday morning when I was half way through my 7km walk, my doctor called to tell me that I am okay. I have what is called ectopic beats. Apparently 20% of the population have them, the heart beats an extra beat and its made worse by things like stress, anxiety, lack of sleep, caffeine etc. No treatment is required and they are harmless. I was relieved. Whilst they are unpleasant to experience, at least I don't need to be worried by them. It's a huge relief.

So that catches you up on my week. It was a doozy. I really hope this week is far more boring. Boring is good.

330am

There are still nights that I lay here awake, terrified mums cancer might return. I wonder does that ever pass?

Slacktivism

This may irritate or offend people I care about. That's really not my intention, it's just a post about something that bugs me. Okay, drives me to stab myself in the eyes with a fork, if I am truly honest.

It's called SLACKTIVISM. You know what I'm talking about, activism without any actual legitimate effort. For example, let's post on facebook about the color of our bras, or even more far fetched, where we like to keep our handbags. And why? To help breast cancer awareness.

Um... What the fuck? How on earth, does that help someone that has breast cancer?! All it does is make the poster feel good. Pat on the back, I care about breast cancer, look at me! Seriously?? Of course, its not just breast cancer that evokes this behaviour, it's just that it is more frequent, because, lets face it, it involves boobs. Everyone likes boobs.

When I first joined twitter, I discovered there was a group of people who liked to take the opportunity each Wednesday, to post pictures of their boobs in bras. Sometimes very barely, in bras. Or even just their boobs in general. In theory, they said this was to raise Breast Cancer Awareness and remind people to do breast checks. Seriously. Hows about a simple reminder tweet to check for lumps, and put your saggy tits away, because no one wants to see your skank. These people aren't whipping tits out for anyones benefit. They are doing it as exhibitionists. If you want to flash, then by all means, knock yourself out, but don't bullshit and claim it is for "breast cancer awareness." Bull. Shit.

You want to make a difference? DONATE. <--- CLICK it and act.

/end rant. Stepping down from high horse.

Writing like a bandit

This morning, the children were out with their Dad, I had a quiet house all to myself. So, I put on some music, and typed. Boy did I type. I wish I had that happen more often. I added well over 3000 words to my wee book. It's coming along nicely, but it still reads as a summary, I need to immerse myself into the details and moments far more than I have so far. That said, it's giving it a lovely shape and outline to fill in. It makes my heart happy!

As I wrote, I thought about what writers put of themselves into stories. Events, personality traits, fears, whatever it may be. A part of my writing this morning was to re-live when Hendrix was put to sleep. I was feeling sad enough at the beginning, but by the time I got to the end, I was sobbing like a baby. I hope that when I leave parts of myself in my writing this way, that the reader truly feels them when they read. That would be the mark of good writing, and one I will always strive for. Emotion in writing is one of the most powerful things to experience, either as reader, or author.

Speaking of happy, my irregular offer from Deakin was already accepted, I can do teaching after all! Not sure as yet how to manage the placements, but I'll take each bridge as I get to it. It's exciting! Mums biopsy was straightforward, she gets an answer on Thursday, keep her in your thoughts until then?

Messy week

This week has not been full of frivolity. And life should be frivolous. Or something.

Anyway, between the floods in Queensland and even down here, and mum having her biopsy today, and the kids on holidays going stir crazy with cabin fever from the rain... It's getting a bit stressful. Then things with Uni went arse up. The course I applied for, I received an offer for. Brilliant. But, then they said 'oh no, that's a mistake on the website, you can't do it externally.' SHIT. I have a 2 year old, I cannot do on campus!! Cue meltdown.

Thankfully, I am a stubborn cow. :D I did some more research and discovered the notion of irregular offers. I found the perfect course (naturally, through my beloved Deakin) and so I have put in a request. Unfortunately, it may not pay off unless they have free places next week. I am hoping. Otherwise I have no idea what I will be doing this year. I guess... more of the same?

Anyway, it is Thursday night. I can get through Friday, right? And then roll on the weekend - along with a better weather forecast and a fresh start. Bringing back the happy. PLEASE!?

Mild panic rising.

Mum had a follow up mammogram yesterday. Today there are 2 concerns. One is a build up of fluid, which apparently sometimes happens, and is not concerning. They want to give her a local anesthetic and drain it. The other is a shadow that they are unsure about. Her oncologist and the radiologist both said it was probably just a cyst, but to be sure, since they were draining the fluid anyway, they'd also do a biopsy on it at the same time.

Now rationally, this all sounds fine, nothing to panic over. But, I can tell Mum is worried, and it makes my heart ache. it makes my mind race. I can feel that should I let it, the panic would overwhelm me. I'm stronger than that. And so is she. We'll both just wait it out. She has this done next Thursday, and then has to wait a week for results. It seems cruel that there is such a wait. She's been through enough, was it so hard to have a clear mammo again? Fuck it. Fuck cancer.

Sucky Anniversary.

This weekend, 12 months ago, I discovered my Mum had breast cancer.

Tonight, I seem to be falling apart. Always surprises me. I ought to know better, grief has no rules, huh? All it takes is one little thing, can be totally unrelated, and the head is yanked from the sand and off it goes.

All these memories are swirling around my head and I can't seem to stop crying.

I remember her saying "I've got breast cancer" and my world felt as though it had shifted right off it's axis. My head literally spun and I felt like I was dreaming, life didn't feel real. I remember gulping to stop myself sobbing. I remember the look on my Dad's face. The fear. The sad. The fact that he could hardly speak. His voice cracked.

I remember 2 weeks later, her telling me how scared she was. Her tears. For the first time to me, she looked old and tired. And so vulnerable.

Getting drunk and high with my sister to escape.

Reading about the precautions post chemo, the extent that was needed to keep her and anyone else safe from the poison. Scared.

Her screaming when she set the kitchen on fire. The realisation at that moment that things were very wrong. She was not Mum as I knew her.

Her head in a turban. Bald.

Watching the chemo mix - bright red - travel up the line into her arm and wanting to rip it out, yet being so fucking grateful it was there.

Crying so much, needing mild sedation.

Feeling grateful that her odds were so good.

The relief at the end of her treatment cycle.

So much fear.



Thank god it is over. Thank god she was so lucky and caught it early. My heart aches for those who are not as lucky.

My heart hurts tonight. I need vodka.

Fear

Awake since 4am. Can't sleep. Got a text from a friend last night mentioning she may be looking at breast cancer.

And here we go again.

I'm hopeful it is not. It's not a definitive dx yet. But it's dredged more crap up.

How do you ever shake the fear of it returning? Every 3m mum sees the oncologist. She just had her first post cancer mammogram (clear!!) and she sees the surgeon again soon as well. They keep very close watch, for this I'm grateful.

But sometimes, like when I wake at 4am, I'm gripped by this incapacitating fear. It's overwhelming. It won't return. Right?

My baby girl is turning One...

In ten days, my little RJ is turning one! It is cliched to talk about time flying, but what a year, it certainly has passed in the blink of an eye.

My dramatic birth story, which I have been thinking about this week, can be read here. So dramatic, so very RJ. The world MUST stop for her, always. She is spoiled rotten by her big brother, too. He dotes on her endlessly and is always indulging her. It is a pattern I see continuing in years to come. She adores him back - the way she says Finn is to make a pffffff sound with her lips. Shes trying to get the F right! And now she is at an age where they can interact, honestly, it makes my heart skip when I see them playing together and laughing at one another, there is nothing like it on this earth. Just gorgeous.

Her latest trick of furniture cruising is doing my head in, because she gets up, and can't work out how to get back down so stands and whinges endlessly. Really hoping that trick is learned ASAP. Argh!

The year has passed so fast, between the masters, a newborn and cancer, it was like blinking. Part of me feels really guilty that I missed a lot of her year mentally, I was not as focused on it as I was on Finn's because I was under a lot of stress. I am still heartbroken I only fed for 4 months, when my goal was longer than I had Finn (10m). I am sad that whilst I still enjoyed it and cherished small moments, it was not as I envisaged. And when I had longed for this for 6 years, through infertility hell and back, I feel a little ripped.

Perspective lands heavily, though, and I am grateful that Mum is healthy again (another all clear from the oncologist yesterday!) and that I HAVE my baby girl at all. That is truly all that matters, and I will enjoy her second year completely.

I was thinking about the 5 years we tried to conceive her, the 12 months we gave up altogether, the dream of her as a 5 year old, that had inspired me before that, the invasive treatments of IUI and IVF, the heartbreak, the soul destroying hell that is infertility. The determination. And here she is. Finally. As I write this, she is standing next to me (sobbing because she again doesn't know how to get back down!) but she is gorgeous. I am told she is like me, I call her the new improved version. She is utterly beautiful. The biggest eyes, of the deepest blue - so blue they sometimes appear violet - that melt me completely. Her hair, swept to the side with a clip is getting fairer all the time. She is tiny, but boy has she packed a personality into that vessel! Feisty and she lets you know what she does and does not want with no room for doubt (sounding familiar?) She knows "cuddle" and gives them generously. Ditto those slobbery, open-mouthed, baby kisses. She says Dadda, tucker, mama and Fffffff. Her world is summed up in those 4 words!

She is everything I dreamed of and more. My beautiful Rory-Jane, keep up that feisty, and keep up the cuddles to balance it! I promise to make the next year a special one for all of us. Bringing the happy. I love you, baby girl. Happy (early) Birthday!

Grief is a bitch.

I hate grief. With no "obvious" loss, I often fight it, because I refuse to understand that you can grieve for losses other than death. Does it scare you that I was a social worker and supervisor of 70 counsellors, for many years, too? I know these things, logically, yet I fight it.

Ever tried to fight grief? Not a smart move. Grief is coming, whether you acknowledge it and deal with it, or not. The peril of ignoring it is that it will hit harder. More impact, more force, more hell. The dilemma, with keeping your head in the sand for months on end, is that with other life stressors in the mix, you may find yourself tipped over the edge by something minute, and suddenly there is a black hole you can't get out of.

I have spent the last 10 months with my head firmly planted in the sand. I could not look acknowledge that my best friend and mum, had cancer. Was going through chemo. The fears that it will come back, that this all even happened, the emotions have been far too big to process. When they started, the depth would terrify me and I would shut them down. You can imagine that when you build a dam like that, the crack and outpour is always going to be inevitable, and far more destructive than an orderly stream.

So, I guess it all caught up. I've had 3 (interrupted) hours of sleep and I have cried myself inside out and back again. I have faced that demon, I've spent those hours in the blackest of hell, and the darkest of grief, and, thanks to a couple of understanding, forgiving and kind friends, I'm up again (Thank you Megs & Phil). I am beyond exhausted. I feel like sleeping for at least a week.

The upside is that from now on, it can only get better from here. Right???

I'm a master of the universe!

I wrote an email to one of my closest friends this morning, and decided to blog it. Today I am going to my graduation for my Master of Arts (Writing and Literature). I was just reading earlier entries in my blog tagged with masters. lol. I really did struggle to get here!


I have been awake since 4am, just thinking about graduation today, and I have felt really anxious. Its bugging me, I should be excited. I mean, I AM excited as well, but there is anxiety and there is also a LOT of emotion. I think, in writing this, I have an idea why - this degree was my escape through my mums cancer battle. There were nights where I was so fucking scared that I was going to lose her and I just immersed myself in the writing to escape thinking and confronting those thoughts. Mum and I are really close. We talk several times a day, she knows all my secrets. The idea of losing her, if not to the cancer then just her mortality at all, was terrifying. One day, in her chemo cycles - chemo can affect you in terms of making you vague and out of it - I took the kids to visit for the day. Mum was playing with Finn, I had RJ in the study, settling her for a nap. The smoke detector went off, which happens for burnt toast there so I didn't react, it is a sensitive alarm. Suddenly, I heard my Mum just screaming... and thought to myself, 'oh man that's serious screaming' so I bolted out and I saw an eerie red glow, and then realised that the kitchen was on fire. She had left oil on the stove and it had caught. She forgot it was on. Chemo.

Anyway, she was standing there screaming for my dad who was outside somewhere. I had to take over, I just told her to get Finn out so she told Finn to go get my dad, Finn was 5!!! So he is running outside scared and crying calling for his pa... Mum was still screaming for Dad and just panicking, and the kitchen was still on fire. I said to her GO OUT AND COMFORT FINN. And I (thank GOD) found their fire extinguisher and start fighting this stupid fire, which when I squirted it, seemed to jump everywhere and make it worse. I started to freak out a little but just kept squirting the hell out of it all. I got it out just as dad came racing in. The smoke was so thick so quickly, and I remembered RJ was in the study, so I told dad it was out as I literally ran and got RJ out and then went and found and checked on Finn and calmed him... it was the single most terrifying moment of my life. It was an awareness that mum wasn't mum, that she had cancer, that this was reality. It was fucking awful. I had to take valium that night to sleep I was so distressed.

This is irrelevant, and yet not. I think, in graduating, I'm letting go of a bit of denial, and now that mum is okay, its still this confronting scary thing and letting go of a comfort or distraction or a denial is a little scary. Am I making any sense? I guess it is as though the masters was a bit of a security blanket because it blocked dealing with things. Now I have to give it up and its great... but scary too? And obviously, IVF was tough, pregnancy was intense, having a newborn is tough, and I did this degree through those too. So many times I wanted to give up. It took me almost a year longer than it should have. But I toughed it out, and I did it. And here I am. I'm proud of me, for this, more than anything else I have ever done. Big day. Overwhelming.


So, through a mix of emotions, today is a big one. I loved the study required to get me this qualification, I really, really, loved it, I feel I found my passion, it was a bonus that it helped me cope with other stuff - I am sure it is the same for many. So, yes I am tooting my own horn and bragging today, but I promise it won't last TOO long... Stay tuned to see how I am rewarding myself for the slog!

Perspective

The past month has impacted on me in a big way, two related events, yet very separate in my life too. Both involve that insidious C word. Last week, my Mum had her very last radiotherapy treatment. This followed several months of chemotherapy, and surgery for breast cancer. This week, her oncologist has told her he will see her in 3 months, she is done. It is beaten. The war has been won.

How momentous! It has been a very, very, long 8 months since she was diagnosed, many tears, many fears and some very difficult times. She did it though, she made it out the other side, and so have we, with her. It is very overwhelming, and difficult to comprehend that this is the end of it. To say we feel lucky is probably an understatement of the grossest kind.

Yesterday, Mum visited for the day. She still wears her scarf on her head, she is only beginning now to grow her hair back after chemotherapy. We were sitting, talking about a whole lot of things, when my friend posted a picture on twitter. I am not sure if you read Stepford Dreams (if not you ought to!); but my friend Carolyn, who authors this blog, I have known for a few years now. In all of this time, I have known of her best friend Alli and her own fight with cancer.

Yesterday, Stepford Dreams twitpic'd herself and Alli in hospital, it was a beautiful picture, a happy one. It made me smile. Then I looked at my mum, and burst into tears. Alli has not been as lucky as my Mum. I am aching for my friend Carolyn, and at the same time, I feel an appreciation, an incredible deep feeling of being grateful that I cannot express fully in words. I cried and both my Mum and I felt so sad, yet so so lucky.

I think too often, we take for granted, the people in our lives, we complain about the small things, we forget the bigger picture. We forget what matters. We don't realise how well off we truly are. We don't tell people often enough that we love them and that they matter in our lives. Today, I feel exceptionally lucky, but at the same time, a deep and aching sadness for my friend and the nightmare she simply cannot wake up from. I feel useless. There is nothing I can do, and that sucks. Please keep them all in your thoughts and prayers.

So, normally snarky, feisty me, not normally one for emotion or anything that could be construed as 'soppy' just wanted to remind you to count your blessings today, and to remember how much worse things could be.