The hangover

Night time is when worries haunt many of us. Personally, when I go to bed I start to think about all the stuff that’s causing me concern. Over time I have taught myself to think about other things through breathing exercises and using my imagination to think about good things. The worries are still there but I’ve turned my mind away from them. They’re buried.  

Last night I went to bed and realised I couldn’t think of anything to be worried about! For the three years since my brain cancer was diagnosed, I’ve been dealing with a hangover of sorts. Finally I feel like a lot of it has lifted...... There have been a lot of things going on over the last three years, many of which have started to resolve themselves this year.......

First and foremost I have been trying to keep myself well. I’ve been worried about my cancer getting worse again. A couple of weeks ago I got the news that there are no cancer cells visible on my scan! This does not mean I am cured. The caveat was that there are likely to still be cells underneath the scarring and damage caused by treatment. But they’re not lighting up on the scan so they’re not active. The best news I could get.

Secondly, I’ve been in a bit of a battle to get changes made within the Belfast Trust. I now feel I’ve done my bit to drive this forward. It’s not finished, but I believe I’ve helped make a difference. 

Thirdly, since my return to work I’ve had a few difficulties. Again, nothing it’s appropriate to share publicly. Suffice to say, I’m now clearer in my role and responsibilities and have also learned the art of not worrying about anyone else’s actions or lack thereof!

Finally, I’ve been worrying about showing tangible outcomes to those of you who so generously gave your time, energy and money to Triciafest. Since the first year I’ve realised that so long as the money comes back locally then that’s enough. Macmillan use it to help local patients and their families and they are experts in knowing what’s needed. The first year though I pushed hard to get something for my local hospital. After almost three years of ‘head pecking’ our refurbished Relatives Room in Causeway Hospital is almost finished. I am beyond happy and excited and I cannot wait to see it all done and be able to share our achievement with everyone who’s been a part of our fundraising over the past three years.

So I’m feeling very light. Worries have been lifted. I’ve found my state of Hakuna Matata!!  

Hide if you want, but I’m not seeking!

Oncology this morning. We had a nightmare journey down the road...... the traffic was so bad we had to make a quick diversion and take a different route. We got to the Royal with about 5 mins to spare...... only to meet a queue of traffic for the car park. This is a common problem and we always leave early to allow us extra time to get parked, but the worse than normal congestion on the motorway had left us with no time for car park delays! We had no choice but to split up...... hubby dropped me off and I took to my beaters...... my phone pedometer says I’ve been ‘lightly active’ today........ I’d beg to differ! I ran from the front of the hospital, through to the back old building, pulling off my coat as I went......like a wee young thing!! After a final, agonising delay at the lifts, I finally made it to my appointment with literally two minutes to spare! 

Of course I needn’t have worried. I sat for almost 15 minutes before I was called. I don’t like going in to see consultants on my own, but hubby was still on a car park tour so I had no choice. Thankfully the news was good.......

Essentially there is no sign of any cancerous activity. The Oncologist explained that my brain is scarred and battered from the surgeries, radio and chemo. It will never look like a ‘normal’ brain. I’m not convinced it ever would have! 

Anyway, all this scarring means they cannot see any signs of cancer. The words used were ‘There are probably still some cancerous cells underneath, but they’re not showing up on the scan so they’re quiet at the moment.”

That’s the best news we could probably get. Hubby walked in just as I was coming out and I felt the tears starting. Why was I crying?? I’d just been given amazing news but all I find myself focusing on is the knowledge it’s going to come back one day. The oncologist had confirmed when I said I knew that was the inevitable outcome...... to him I’d laughed and confidently said “But you don’t really know. It might not. Everyone is different.” but walking back into reality I felt the shadow of cancer hovering over me again. 

I think it’s normal to feel fear, but I won’t let that sort of maudlin attitude last. It’s not healthy. I went to the ladies room, looked at myself in the mirror and said out loud “They can’t see anything. Maybe it’s gone. They don’t know. You don’t know. Sort yourself out.” 

I came out, took my husband’s hand, and we left the hospital yet again. We had a cuppa, took a walk round a few shops and then met our gorgeous big son for lunch before heading home. I made a point of texting people to tell them the good news in a bid to remind myself that it being happy wasn’t  going to curse me!

As I sit here blogging hubby is listening to music. Giving my writing a soundtrack...... As Jackson Browne sang “Doctor my eyes” I stood up and put out my hands to my husband of 23 years. As we danced round the living room, I cuddled in close and felt all the anxiety and negativity wash away. 

It’s a positive attitude, not a tempting of fate. I can’t be afraid of things that haven’t happened. How does the quote go??

“Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, today is a gift, which is why we call it the present.”

My present is great. I have a wonderful husband, fantastic family and friends. I have a good life. I’m not letting a few cells that may or may not be hiding cast a shadow over our happiness.

I’m not seeking. Let’s dance!!