Planning & Looking to the Future

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I'm a planner.

I love to organise my time, know where I'm going to be and when... 

I don't like the uncertainty of not knowing what's around the corner.

In my head I have a clearer career plan. My new job has helped with that and I feel focussed in this area of my life.

I also have a fitness plan, and I'm feeling motivated to reach my goal. Next on my list is to manage at least one full, proper press-up. So far I can only do press-ups on my knees. I also need to lose a few more pounds.

What I don't like is the uncertainty of my personal life... relationships, money, health... I'm not feeling very settled for some reason and it's making me stressed and emotional.

Things with my divorce are starting to progress again in the right direction, and at a better speed than before. So hopefully I'll have some resolution in this area soon. I do think this will help dramatically with things. Plus it will be good when those lawyer bills finally stop!! Which leads onto money, or lack thereof. I've been saving where possible to allow my luxuries to continue. However I'm really feeling it this year and I've borrowed money from my dad and my sister. It should all even out eventually as my student loan repayments are going to stop this quarter - that will help hugely! All this stress is making my Crohn's symptoms worse and I'm feeling pretty exhausted most of the time. However I'm great at 'putting on a good show' as my doctor put it, and I carry on regardless.

I have an Easter holiday organised which I'm really looking forward to. My sister and her boyfriend have booked a luxury lodge in Scotland (I will pay you back eventually...promise!) and we've been planning what to do with our week off. There will be the four grown-ups plus our four kids. I'm hoping for dry weather so we can BBQ, play in the park and have some quality time together.

So for now, I'm going to breathe... (try to) trust... let go... and see what happens!

I wish I had said goodbye

This is my final diary excerpt. You'll find the previous parts here, here and here.

"Dad had hurt his back and was unable to drive – but I was told not to tell mum.  So because I wasn’t working I was the designated driver, and I was taking gran out to the hospice, and also dad and Alison.

Alison had her sixth year ball, and so she had spent all afternoon getting all dressed up for it.  I drove her out to the hospice so that mum could see her, and then I took Ali to her friend’s house to take some photographs.  I was filling my mum’s shoes and it was difficult.  I remember my prom, and mum was there with my friends mums.  We were all drinking a wee glass of fizz before being waved off. I think Ali must have found it really hard with me as a substitute.

In terms of mum’s care, as far as I was aware, it was good.  However, I would have liked to have been informed more of what was happening.  Ali and I were taken into a separate room one time we visited by one of the nurses because mum was in a bad way and didn’t know who dad was and dad didn’t want us to see her like that.  The nurse asked us if we had any questions – but we both just said no.  Whereas I think if they had taken us one at a time and asked us if we had questions, the reply might have been different.

Mum’s condition progressively worsened, and she was transferred to a room on her own.  She was getting so thin – it was really horrible to watch.  She couldn’t eat anymore, and the only thing she could take was small spoons of ice.  How the tables had turned, and it was now me that was spoon-feeding my mother.  Conversation was still difficult, but mum was tired a lot and she couldn’t really hold much of a conversation anymore.

I remember being there in the room with gran, and mum was still asleep – and with time she woke up.  But I don’t think she knew who we were.  And she was hallucinating – grabbing at things, and staring into the wall and mumbling – nothing was there."

And that's where the diary stops... but basically it was shortly thereafter that she died. I didn't say goodbye, and she was on her own when she died. I wish things had been done differently. 

I saw a Cruse Bereavement counsellor for a while which certainly helped, but nothing takes the pain away of losing a parent.

I miss her every day.

Regret

This is Part 3 of my diary excerpts. You'll find Part 1 here and Part 2 here...

"My flights home took me via Frankfurt to Edinburgh and my dad was collecting me there to drive me back to Aberdeen.  However, when I arrived in Frankfurt, I saw the ‘departures’ board that indicated that my flight to Edinburgh was delayed, and then minutes later it was cancelled.  I rushed to the airline desk and was in tears – I really needed to get home.  The lady at the counter was brilliant.  Quickly my flights were re-arranged and I was not only booked on a flight from Frankfurt to Glasgow, but also a second flight from Glasgow to Aberdeen.  I phoned dad, and managed to catch him before he left to collect me.  He was to meet me in Aberdeen later that day.

Back at Aberdeen airport, dad picked me up and we drove straight to the hospital to see mum.  I remember walking through the corridors – we had a short cut that we used to get us to mum’s room – and I asked dad ‘I don’t know what to say – what should I say’.  I don’t remember the reply, but mum was still mum when we got to her room.  She didn’t look particularly ill at this stage, but this was to get much worse.  I remember mum telling me that she was just really glad that I returned home safely.  I had half expected her to pass away quietly then, safe in the knowledge that I had returned home from Israel, but that wasn’t the case.  Mum was only 51 – and her organs were in full health.  It was just the cancer that was the problem.  It had spread to the bowels, and there was no longer an option to operate, and chemotherapy would not have helped in this case.  It was just a case of waiting for mum’s body to pack in.  I don’t know if she was in pain, but I presume she had painkillers etc.  I think her diet by this stage was soup, and you could see that she was losing weight.

Dad and I had a meeting with one of the staff at the hospital, because mum had requested that she wanted to come home to die.  This was one of the most difficult situations I had been faced with, because I had to have the guts and say that I didn’t want her to come home because it would be too difficult for us.  Dad was working full-time, Ali was still at school – and it would have been myself that would have had to care for mum.  She needed 24 hour assistance, and I just didn’t feel capable.  I also didn't want to have sad memories of her at the house - I just wanted to cling to the happy ones. We agreed that it would be ideal if we could get mum a bed at a hospice.  Thankfully, a bed came up at the hospice and mum was moved there. 

The  hospice was lovely – the grounds outside were peaceful, the staff were friendly and it was a much nicer environment than the hospital.  Mum was in a room with about 5 other ladies – and to be honest, from what I remember, mum was the youngest.  She was able to get her hair done, as a hairdresser used to visit the hospice.  She also got reflexology sessions, and I think dogs used to come into the hospice also and the patients were allowed to pet them.  There was a little ‘café’ where we could go and sit with mum – she’d be in her wheelchair, and we’d sit in the other chairs round in a little huddle.  It was the one time that mum was able to have soft drinks, as I think mainly she just had soup and water, but she used to have some of our coke when we visited, and she would suck up the coke through the straw really quickly because she enjoyed it so much (but then she'd get really gassy!). Conversation was always difficult.  I always was asking about the nurses and the other staff, and what the different uniforms meant – and I wish I had the guts to ask more questions.  There are so many things that I regret."

'Mum has Cancer'

I have been clearing out my portable hard drive, and came across a diary that I had started writing, maybe 7 years ago... I thought I'd share it with you here.

"The phone ringing downstairs woke me up.  I glanced over to my alarm clock – it was after midnight.  No-one answered it.  Dad’s mobile started ringing shortly after.  I knew straight away why it was ringing... mum had died.

I remember when mum first became ill.  She had complained of farting loads, which sadly I found amusing at the time, and she had also put on a lot of weight around her abdomen.  I don’t know if she was in pain at this stage, but she had been to see her GP, and they must have referred her to the hospital for tests.  I think it was thought to be something hormonal.  It felt like forever waiting for results – blood tests were taken, then more waiting, then scans were performed and it started getting scary.  We were told that perhaps it was cancer, but it may also just be ovarian cysts.  I hoped for the latter...

I’m the eldest of two – my little sister Alison (although I say little – we are both now in our twenties!) is a year and 10 months younger than me.  Our mother, Ethel, was born in Aberdeen and our father, John, was born in Motherwell.  I don’t remember the details of how mum and dad met, but soon after, they were married.  I was born in January 1982, and Alison followed shortly at the end of 1983.  Alison and I had a happy childhood. Unlike some of my friends, Alison and I were the best of friends.  We did have our moments, but the majority of the time we were as close as could be.

Alison and I were watching TV after school in the living room of our family home in Aberdeen.  Mum was still in hospital at this stage, and when dad came back he had bad news.  He opened the living room door, stood there and just said ‘Mum has cancer’.  I was speechless; I guess that’s what shock does to you.  I didn’t have a clue what to say.  I was 16 years old and for the past few days I had been trying to keep on top of things at the house with mum in hospital, but I didn’t at all expect that our worst nightmares would come true.  I started to cry, got up and gave dad a hug.  Ali joined in.  I felt lost.  What did this mean?  We had so many questions, but nobody had any answers. Mum stayed in hospital for more tests, and also for an operation to investigate further and remove cancerous tissue.  We found out the reason why she had put on so much weight – something ridiculous like 10 litres of fluid was drained off her abdomen.

Mum ended up having her ovaries, womb and reproductive tubing removed.  But soon enough she was home.  Although she still had to undergo a gruelling course of chemotherapy.  Alison and I weren’t told much about the details of mum’s treatment, but I remember mum being tired and feeling ill.  Dad bought a portable TV so that she could watch television in bed, and we also got a cordless phone so that mum didn’t need to get up if she didn’t feel like it.  I don’t remember her ever complaining about the treatment, at least certainly not to myself or Alison – but I think that was more a case of she didn’t want to put us through her illness.  Alison and I both had exams that summer, and amazingly we got through them.

In September 1999 I started first year of university, and for some reason I was drawn to study pharmacy in Aberdeen, which meant I was staying at home.  In the long run this was ideal, as I was still in Aberdeen to support the family when mum’s illness deteriorated – perhaps it was fate that made me choose to stay – certainly when I ticked the box and chose my university course I wasn’t to know what the future held.

After the chemotherapy, mum ended up back at work. And everything seemed to return to normal...