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.

Mr B turns 1

This week my littlest little man, Mr B, turned one. On 29^th September 2015 at 5.52am my chunky baby entered the world. Mr B is both the smilest and teariest baby I have ever known, and I love him for that.

Mr S was given a prescription last week which the doctor informed me was his first prescription ever. Whereas Mr B has had quite a medicine filled 1st year, poor little monkey.

When he was just over a month old he had bronchiolitis and was a wheezy, coughy ball of cuteness for around 3 weeks. His cries became really horse and strained. He still has a sound of Rod Stewart which I blame on the lasting effects of bronchiolitis.

When he was around 5 months old I took him in pets at home to look at the rabbits. He was really enjoying it cooing and reaching out to touch them. I leaned him over the edge of the rabbit enclosure to have a closer look which is when a virus struck his stomach. He vomited on the poor little rabbits and all over the floor as I pulled him away. Considering the staff in there work with animals and animals shit all day, you should have seen the disgust on their faces. I felt like saying “hi, I brought him in here to vomit and ruin your day on purpose”, I wanted the ground to swallow me. This was the start of 2 weeks of diarrhoea and vomiting. Wonderful. 

When he was 6 months old he contracted an eye infection. My poor little chunk could barely open his eye and spent the days till the drops started worked crying and rubbing it. You haven't started a day right till you've started it pinning down a baby, who suddenly develops super human strength, to put drops in.

At around 10 months he had his 1st trip to children's A&E.  He had a non-blanching rash and was very floppy and tired. I was terrified.  It was like that moment at the top of a roller coaster where your waiting to drop. He had to have blood taken while I held him down, which resulted in him crying, me crying and a very comforting nurse promising me it was for his benefit.  It turned out the rash was viral, not meningitis though. I can't explain to you the relief when I knew my boy wasn't as bad as my crazy, over active imagination had decided.

His worst illness has been this week. Ending in his 1st birthday afternoon being spent in hospital with dehydration. While we were on a family holiday last week we noticed something similar to a small graze on his chin. We presumed that his newly walking feet had lost their balance and he must have bumped his chin. A plausible excuse for the mark.  However, the day we got home these 'marks' started appearing on his nappy area. They looked quite sore, and I didn't make the link between these and his chin so I applied nappy cream and went on with my day. Within an hour they were spreading down his legs and looked more like blisters.

My first thought was chicken pox but as he seemed quite unwell, being irritable and off his food, off we went to the docs. By the time we arrived it was on his face, where suddenly the original 'mark' faded in, his hands and feet.

My poor little man had hand foot and mouth.  I had never heard of it and instantly started questioning when my little boy had been near a farm animal. The doctor reassured me that hand foot and mouth is different to the foot and mouth animals get. It is a virus which just has to run its course. It causes blister type spots on the mouth, hands, feet and nappy area. It gives ulcers inside your mouth which obviously make eating and drinking quite painful. It can also cause

 - high temperature (fever), usually around 38-39C (100.4-102.2F)

-a general sense of feeling unwell

-loss of appetite

-coughing

-abdominal (tummy) pain

-a sore throat and mouth

My poor littlest man had all of these. Which led to not eating and drinking which led to the dehydration.  It also didn't help that he was put on strong antibiotics as some of the blisters became infected, which made him feel even worse.

So my boys first birthday was his worst birthday so far, but I have everything crossed that he will be getting better very soon. Then it will be cake and cuddles all round.

Good day to you x

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