Mama bear, I love you

Pre warning: this blog talks about cancer and may be upsetting for some people.

I am 28 years old. In those 28 years I have experienced a lot. Unfortunately not all good experiences, but hey who can say their life has been perfect. This week I went through an experience that reminded how those bad experiences have shaped who I am today. I know this sounds very cliché but it is true.

This week my mama bear was called in for a hospital appointment. After having cancer 3 times my mama is always in hospital for one appointment or another so I didn’t really think anything of it, nor did she. That was until at 9pm the night before she actually read the appointment letter properly. The appointment was for a breast tomosynthesis. She wasn’t sure why she had been sent for this, after some googling by me we discovered it was similar to a mammogram.  It was like the super duper  advanced version  of a mammogram that created a 3d image. I assured my mama the invite must of been extended to her as she has had breast cancer in the past, so their just being extra safe. I didn’t think that really, I lay awake most of the night thinking there must of been something wrong on her last check up. It turned out , despite my reassurances earlier in the evening, she stayed awake thinking much the same thing.

She went in for the procedure alone, the first thing she did was ask, “why have I been invited for this”.

They told her quite matter of factly  there was a suspicious area on her mammogram which was being investigated as a cause for concern. Imagine being told that with no warning. Now imagine being told that with no warning less than a year since you got the all clear from your third fight against cancer.

When she came back into the waiting room my heart sank. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused. She had gone quiet, uttering a couple of words every so often about how she was’ fine’. I grabbed her hand and squeezed it, it lay limp and clammy in my palm.

At this point all I could think was I’m 28, I have had to manage the thought of losing my mum 3 times maybe about to be 4 and I’m only 28.  I know this sounds horribly selfish, I know some people lose their mamas even younger, but that’s just how I felt. I was angry that she was having to sit in a waiting room, feeling this dread again. Suddenly I noticed everything screamed cancer.

A lady walked in wearing a headscarf, clearly having chemo, there was a huge Macmillan display, there was a lady saying how frightened she was about her diagnosis. My mum was staring at the window oblivious to anything around her, but I still felt like I needed to shield her from these glaring reminders of the big C.
A nurse came out and called her name. She jumped up and practically ran after her, I  turned to watch her go and I will never forget her eyes.  They were filled with fear and the scars of what her body had already had to fight. I smiled at her every second until the door shut, then I cried. I sat in a waiting room with other people with tears rolling down my cheeks. I didn’t care if anyone saw.

 I realised I wasn’t upset that she might be sick, I was upset that such a beautiful person was getting kicked by the universe again. I was angry that we had to see her go through this again.

The 5 minutes she was in there felt like forever. Each time I heard footsteps I looked for her. All the memories of the first time she had cancer came flooding back. I remembered being 11 years old just home from school. I knew my mum had been at hospital but I didn’t know why. When she came in I could see she had been crying. Her and my dad went straight into the garden without saying anything, I ran upstairs and ease dropped from the bedroom window. My mum was sobbing and I heard the words breast cancer. My world had crashed down then and I was terrified it was going to do the same now.



Finally her door opened. She was smiling, crying, but smiling.
The universe wasn’t kicking her for the 4th time. I didn’t have to face losing my mum for the 4th time. We didn’t have to see her go through this for the 4th time. The suspicious area was scar tissue from past surgery.

I can’t explain the feelings we experienced from then. We were elated. It was as if she had just been given the all clear from something she hadn’t actually had. We got in the car, put the radio on, held hands and cried with relief.

My mama has shown me to fight. All 3 times she has fought cancer she has took the diagnosis and stood strong. I don’t know how she does it, but she does. Even when her treatment has worn her down she always held it together in front of me. Always told me she is going to beat this fucking disease.
Mama bear, I love you. Xx

Sidenote - I can never thank the NHS enough. They made a mistake by not telling her beforehand why she was there, but they more than made up for it with their handling of the situation afterwards.

Mama bears mama bear.

I have no choice but to start today on a rant. Why oh why do people use the parent and baby spaces when they have no children. Clearly they want me to dint car doors while trying to squeeze out two little people and a double buggy. Parent and baby parking spots are there so we have more space and are usually closest to a path or safe area in which for your child to stand. Yesterday while shopping with my mum, in the time it took us to set the pram up and get the kids out, we witnessed at least three people park and get out with invisible children. I love that my mum took it upon herself to inform them they couldn’t do this. “I’ve just seen a carpark attendant putting tickets on cars using these spaces without children”. She hadn’t seen this, but it was non argumentative, non-confrontational and it made them move their lazy butts out of the spaces.

My mum comes out with some brilliant comments when she is angered by something. I particular like her road rage outbreaks. You haven’t seen road rage until you have seen my mum lean out of a car window and shout ‘penis head’ at a driver blocking the road. As she gets older she seems to be getting angrier. I’m really starting to picture her as an old lady shouting at the ducks in the park for quacking too loud. Not only is she getting angrier she is getting stronger, not always because she wants to but sometimes because life means she has too. 

My beautiful mama bear was recently diagnosed with cancer for the third time. All the way through her painful and tiring treatment she has continued to be an amazing mum while still helping me run after and play fight with Mr S and Mr B. Only my mama bear could find ways to joke about something so, (let’s be honest), shit happening to her. She has her scans in a few weeks but I know with how amazing she has been that she will have kicked ‘penis head’ cancers butt!

So as I mentioned earlier my mum, the kids and I went shopping yesterday. Like most people I love a good bargain, so was extremely happy to see that T K Maxx had a big toy clearance. Mr S found a Choo Choo, (train for those that are not fluent in toddler talk), reduced from £18 to £2, winner. He shook it at me shouting “Choo Choo”, he was over the moon when I said we could take it home, that was until chick chick gate.

 We wandered upstairs to have a look around the home section where Mr S picked up an egg timer in the shape of a chicken. I turned it and let the bell go off to show him what it did. He loved it. I told him to put chicken back in his house now so we could take Choo Choo home. He refused and repeatedly shouted ‘chick chick’. At this point, in Mr S’s eyes, I committed the worst act of bad motherhood he had ever seen. I took it off him, put it back on the shelf and handed him his new toy train. For anyone in T K Maxx yesterday I am sorry for what you saw next. Tears, throwing himself on the floor, shouting chick chick up the stairs, putting his new train back on the shelf, crying because he’d put his new train on the shelf. It was all very stressful but I told him if he is a good boy he might just get an egg timer for his birthday. 

Kids are weird when it comes to the things they choose to play with. I dread to think how much money is sitting in their toy boxes and yet I have just walked in to Mr S playing with a headband and Mr B very happily playing with a sock.

I do love it when I see them playing and happily entertaining themselves. It really warms my heart, not only that, it also gives me 5 minutes’ peace to do the important things like have a sandwich and brush my teeth. It’s also nice to have a few minutes to go to the toilet alone. I kid you not, every time I go to the toilet I am followed by Mr S. Today it stooped to a new low when he followed me in with a ball shouting catch. What makes it even worse is, I played, I sat there on the toilet and played catch. I thought motherhood would be all cute outfits and snuggles with my babies, not playing catch while I pee.

Good day to you x


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