I have no excuse now for taking it easy, being grumpy, precious, letting the world pass me by. Things that seemed like real achievemnts when I was the little old lady with cancer now seem a bit pathetic.
One major problem is finding some way of disposing of all the stuff we have sorted out and have no room for: furniture, clothes, bric-a-brac. After all my freegling efforts I still have large bags of scraps of material, and some larger bits. I thought there was a re-cycling equivalent of the rag and bone man, but even Kate with her weighed collection in aid of the pre-school now says 'no rubbish.' Charity shops have become very fashionable and I feel guilty about giving them anything that I don't want to wear myself. I haven't heard of a jumble sale for years, and the wheelie bin isn't big enough. I confess that there is another factor now: I am a bit reluctant to dispose of anything that I might possibly wear or adapt, now that I have a future! If I followed up on this I would put back in the wardrobe all the stuff I retained at the last major turn-out, which would achieve nothing! I can't even work on the theory that anything I didn't wear last year is not going to be required this year. Last year was a bit of a non-event. I don't think I took a summer dress out of the wardrobe; I was cold all the time, and was warned not to let the sun shine on me because of the chemo.
It sounds as if I am moaning about having my sentence remitted. Of course I am not, it is just taking a little time to adjust.
We went to Topps Tiles in Norwich yesterday afternoon. We have more Tesco Clubcard tokens than we need to tile the new shower, so thought we might tile above the kitchen worktops. I confess to being bewildered and a bit disappointed by the choice of tiles. When we had the annexe bathroom and kitchen tiled for Mum in 2008 I really enjoyed looking at everything in the local tile-shop, and we were spoilt for choice. This Topps showroom is full of natural stone mosaics, brilliantly coloured glass tiles, and enormous marble slabs. Hardly a blueish, four-inch tile to be seen! We have another problem. The idea is to put a shelf above the tiles and move all the tea, coffee, salt and pepper, daily pills etc up there. If it is too high I won't be able to reach it, so we settled on 30cms as a good height. Some of the giant tiles are 30cms if laid sideways, but in bed this morning I had the depressing thought that a 30cm high shelf will prevent us opening the breadmaker. Back to the drawing board.
Mary-Ann and family were home from Friday until Monday. It was lovely to see them and the boys were a delight. They even played outside for nearly an hour on Sunday. It was bitterly cold, and they found watering cans with rainwater in them, so got wet. James had to come in and get changed into a pair of shorts, but then went out again and dug in the sandpit with Joe quite happily.
Mary-Ann went for her interview on Friday and to her surprise got the job. She was convinced that she is too expensive, and that no Head with any sense would consider employing an ex-Head. However, they loved her class teaching and behaviour control, and said she interviewed very well. Soon after she heard that she had the job she and Dom decided that they would follow their plan through and come to us for a year, then review the situation. This means it is full steam ahead to get the upstairs ready for them, hence the panic about the clothes. Dom is convinced they can get their enormous settee up there, in which case the living room downstairs will stay the same.
Tuesday, 22 February 2011
Thursday, 17 February 2011
The Path to Adventure takes a twist
Most of my blog followers will already know the life-shattering news I got at the oncology clinic yesterday. No mass in the lung, no recurrence seen anywhere, no chemotherapy planned, no surgery, no prognosis sought or given. "It must have been an infection," said the oncologist, "although it looked like a secondary and nothing like an infection." I just looked at Dave and said: "Prayer does work," and he said: "Yes, you've had lots of prayer." We consider it a miracle.
None of the questions I had stored up to ask had any relevance, like would he give Mary-Ann and Dom a letter recommending them to have flu vaccine to protect me during my next chemo, and what was the time scale for any treatment, and could we take a holiday out of Norfolk this time. All that is planned for me now is a regular follow-up by the surgeons, and I think he said that would start in three months time.
Thank you to all who have shared our news with such joy. I feel loved and valued and in touch with so many people I have neglected over the years. Your responses to my musings and grumbles and plans have been so positive and helpful. I hope I can live up to them.
We are so thankful to God for giving us this relief from all the anxiety and worry about the future. We don't yet understand what it has all been about in his plan for us, but one thing we have learned is that he is more than capable of working it all out, and that he wishes good for us. The route we take is in his hands, but he walks it with us and as long as we can trust in that it remains an adventure, not a punishment.
Several people have commented that we must be walking on air, delirious with happiness. Because I am trying to be honest in this blog I have to put down that it isn't quite like that. I feel a bit flat to tell the truth, without direction and suddenly tired at the thought of coming out of my life of indolence and beautiful thoughts! There, now I am laughing at myself, so that is a good sign.
I suppose I have still not quite got the hang of being happily out of control. The last ten months have been a very different interlude in a life that has been marked by striving (both for success and understanding,) and never being quite good enough. Since I gave up work and my car, and shed the financial burdens of being in practice, I have started to appreciate the pleasure of having time to idle. Until December I was engrossed in my little books, painting my watercolours and putting words together. I have enjoyed writing down my reflections in this blog, scrapbooking, doing a bit of Ancestry on-line, watching Homes under the Hammer while doing the ironing. Then since Christmas we have been trying to sort the house in preparation for Mary-Ann and Dom to come to live with us. I have decorated the annexe bedroom for us, and disposed of large amounts of material, wool, photography magazines, furniture and clothes. We are about half-way through being ready for them, although Dave has found not only rotten floorboards but a couple of rotten joists under the shower which have to dealt with before we can install the new one. Underneath all this was the knowledge that my time was probably going to be short, so I created my family and friends group e-mails, started to make a file of utility information, contacted the NHS pensions office to get an idea of what would be coming in for Dave after my death.
And now? Like everyone else, I don't know how long I have to fill my time. What does God mean by the change in prospects? What knowledge and skills have I learned that I am meant to be using in the indeterminate amount of time left at this end of my life? I had thought the future was going to be focussed on the family, helping with childcare, enjoying the development of young minds and bodies, reading stories, fetching from school. MAybe that will be it, but the plans are back in the melting pot, and Mary-Ann and Dom have even more significant decisions to make than we have.
Dave is much more practical. He sees the grand clear-out of possessions as something long overdue, and an opportunity to decorate and renovate the house. He wants me out in the garden, fulfilling some of the neglected plans we have had. He never worries about money until the pot is empty, so he doesn't turn a hair at the cost of all this renovation. I am sure he is right, and that investing in upkeep is the best use of what we have. So long as my pension keeps coming in we can manage, and when he finally accepts retirement we still have the house as our security. So he is on the right track, and I just need to keep living each day in thanksgiving and joy.
It will take me a little while to get used to the idea of a future. Rog just came with a huge bunch of tulips, a promise of springtime, and a card from Sam saying 'today is the first day of the rest of your life. Enjoy!' Rog had a life-threatening heart condition a couple of years ago, and he identified with my muddled thoughts completely. It makes me feel a bit less pathetic. I expect I shall look back on this blog post and wish I had never written it. I have said enough, anyway, so I will go and hang out the towels.
None of the questions I had stored up to ask had any relevance, like would he give Mary-Ann and Dom a letter recommending them to have flu vaccine to protect me during my next chemo, and what was the time scale for any treatment, and could we take a holiday out of Norfolk this time. All that is planned for me now is a regular follow-up by the surgeons, and I think he said that would start in three months time.
Thank you to all who have shared our news with such joy. I feel loved and valued and in touch with so many people I have neglected over the years. Your responses to my musings and grumbles and plans have been so positive and helpful. I hope I can live up to them.
We are so thankful to God for giving us this relief from all the anxiety and worry about the future. We don't yet understand what it has all been about in his plan for us, but one thing we have learned is that he is more than capable of working it all out, and that he wishes good for us. The route we take is in his hands, but he walks it with us and as long as we can trust in that it remains an adventure, not a punishment.
Several people have commented that we must be walking on air, delirious with happiness. Because I am trying to be honest in this blog I have to put down that it isn't quite like that. I feel a bit flat to tell the truth, without direction and suddenly tired at the thought of coming out of my life of indolence and beautiful thoughts! There, now I am laughing at myself, so that is a good sign.
I suppose I have still not quite got the hang of being happily out of control. The last ten months have been a very different interlude in a life that has been marked by striving (both for success and understanding,) and never being quite good enough. Since I gave up work and my car, and shed the financial burdens of being in practice, I have started to appreciate the pleasure of having time to idle. Until December I was engrossed in my little books, painting my watercolours and putting words together. I have enjoyed writing down my reflections in this blog, scrapbooking, doing a bit of Ancestry on-line, watching Homes under the Hammer while doing the ironing. Then since Christmas we have been trying to sort the house in preparation for Mary-Ann and Dom to come to live with us. I have decorated the annexe bedroom for us, and disposed of large amounts of material, wool, photography magazines, furniture and clothes. We are about half-way through being ready for them, although Dave has found not only rotten floorboards but a couple of rotten joists under the shower which have to dealt with before we can install the new one. Underneath all this was the knowledge that my time was probably going to be short, so I created my family and friends group e-mails, started to make a file of utility information, contacted the NHS pensions office to get an idea of what would be coming in for Dave after my death.
And now? Like everyone else, I don't know how long I have to fill my time. What does God mean by the change in prospects? What knowledge and skills have I learned that I am meant to be using in the indeterminate amount of time left at this end of my life? I had thought the future was going to be focussed on the family, helping with childcare, enjoying the development of young minds and bodies, reading stories, fetching from school. MAybe that will be it, but the plans are back in the melting pot, and Mary-Ann and Dom have even more significant decisions to make than we have.
Dave is much more practical. He sees the grand clear-out of possessions as something long overdue, and an opportunity to decorate and renovate the house. He wants me out in the garden, fulfilling some of the neglected plans we have had. He never worries about money until the pot is empty, so he doesn't turn a hair at the cost of all this renovation. I am sure he is right, and that investing in upkeep is the best use of what we have. So long as my pension keeps coming in we can manage, and when he finally accepts retirement we still have the house as our security. So he is on the right track, and I just need to keep living each day in thanksgiving and joy.
It will take me a little while to get used to the idea of a future. Rog just came with a huge bunch of tulips, a promise of springtime, and a card from Sam saying 'today is the first day of the rest of your life. Enjoy!' Rog had a life-threatening heart condition a couple of years ago, and he identified with my muddled thoughts completely. It makes me feel a bit less pathetic. I expect I shall look back on this blog post and wish I had never written it. I have said enough, anyway, so I will go and hang out the towels.
Sunday, 13 February 2011
I had my scan 2 days ago, and see the oncologist on Wednesday. I am still well and keeping very busy, but I don't put too much faith in that as I was well and busy right up to the day before I obstructed last April. If I hadn't had the CT scan in December I wouldn't know there was anything wrong, and if after Wednesday I am back on treatment it will be for the radiology, not the symptoms! I suppose that's progress!
Sally and Joe have been here for the weekend which has been lovely. Yesterday afternoon Dave and Joe watched the Rugby and Sally and I sorted my stash of fabric. She loved all the vintage lace in the trunk upstairs, so she has taken that and will enjoy going through it again with Jodie. When she had finished setting aside all the material she wanted, I rang Tes from church who has taken up patchwork, and she came and fetched another load. There is still some left so I e-mailed one of the craft club ladies who responded to my Freegle about paper patterns, and she is coming tomorrow. By tomorrow afternoon I hope to have the cupboards under the stairs cleared for May-Ann's vacuum and the boys coats and wellies. I shall also be guilt free about all the material I have acquired and stored and never used.
Sally and Joe have been here for the weekend which has been lovely. Yesterday afternoon Dave and Joe watched the Rugby and Sally and I sorted my stash of fabric. She loved all the vintage lace in the trunk upstairs, so she has taken that and will enjoy going through it again with Jodie. When she had finished setting aside all the material she wanted, I rang Tes from church who has taken up patchwork, and she came and fetched another load. There is still some left so I e-mailed one of the craft club ladies who responded to my Freegle about paper patterns, and she is coming tomorrow. By tomorrow afternoon I hope to have the cupboards under the stairs cleared for May-Ann's vacuum and the boys coats and wellies. I shall also be guilt free about all the material I have acquired and stored and never used.
Wednesday, 9 February 2011
I am very pleased with myself. Today we went to Hickling to see Ced and Suzie, had a leisurely coffee then set off for a walk. We walked for over two hours down to the Broad and round the nature reserve. They have bitterns and cranes resident there, but it was a 'misty murky' day as the weather-men say, and we didn't see them. Dave and I reckon we walked b etween 4 and 5 miles, which is further than I have walked in the last 18months. The last time was our holiday at Weybourne in autumn 2009. I wasn't short of breath and it is hard to believe I have cancer in my lung.
Suzie made us wonderful veggie mulligatawny and salad from the garden, then a cup of tea and chat until after 4 0'clock. I am very stiff around the hips, even after a hot bath, but feeling good.
I disposed of four big boxes of paper dressmaking patterns this morning before we went. I put them on freecycle thinking someone might want one or two of them, and got about a dozen replies, all desperate to have them and adamant that they mustn't go on the bonfire. The lady who was first in the queue is doing some sort of research! I was just a little reluctant to part with the 1940s dress pattern that I actually made up about 10 years ago. It was very flattering and I loved wearing it although the material didn't do it justice. In the end I thought it highly unlikely that I would use it, and suspected that it was of more interest than all the rest put together, so I let it go. I have made a sizeable space in the cupboard under the stairs. Another lady is coming all the way from Heacham tomorrow to collect oddments of knitting wool. A large chest in the living room is full of same, so that will be another clearance and space for something or other that I can't bear to get rid of. It makes me feel very organised and virtuous.
2 more days until my CT scan and a week until the verdict that will put an end to this happy interlude one way or the other. It's a great way to live - no pressure, no expectations of me, taking advantage of each opportunity to enjoy outings, theatre, meals, visits. Ah well, mustn't be too precious.
Suzie made us wonderful veggie mulligatawny and salad from the garden, then a cup of tea and chat until after 4 0'clock. I am very stiff around the hips, even after a hot bath, but feeling good.
I disposed of four big boxes of paper dressmaking patterns this morning before we went. I put them on freecycle thinking someone might want one or two of them, and got about a dozen replies, all desperate to have them and adamant that they mustn't go on the bonfire. The lady who was first in the queue is doing some sort of research! I was just a little reluctant to part with the 1940s dress pattern that I actually made up about 10 years ago. It was very flattering and I loved wearing it although the material didn't do it justice. In the end I thought it highly unlikely that I would use it, and suspected that it was of more interest than all the rest put together, so I let it go. I have made a sizeable space in the cupboard under the stairs. Another lady is coming all the way from Heacham tomorrow to collect oddments of knitting wool. A large chest in the living room is full of same, so that will be another clearance and space for something or other that I can't bear to get rid of. It makes me feel very organised and virtuous.
2 more days until my CT scan and a week until the verdict that will put an end to this happy interlude one way or the other. It's a great way to live - no pressure, no expectations of me, taking advantage of each opportunity to enjoy outings, theatre, meals, visits. Ah well, mustn't be too precious.
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