The power of love

15th September 2015: Sydney, Australia

I have just seen off my mum at the hospital, and honestly more tears have been shed over the past two days in comparison to the entirety of my experience with Cancer. The feelings attached to the circumstances unfolding for my mum highlight the point covered yesterday regarding the impact Cancer (or any illness/disability) can have on the loved ones of an individual.

Ironically, the experience with my mum has provided a renewed thirst for life. I can understand the absurdity in the above statement, so an explanation will be detailed. Firstly, I must say a level of guilt is felt surrounding the predicament my mum now faces, and I see this stemming from the stressors I am responsible for. The stressors started during my teen years with a range of adolescent behaviours, however, the climax was approximately 20 months ago when I informed my parents I had a tumour growing inside of me. From the point of that initial phone call, I know my mum has constantly worried about me. It is this worry and concern that gives me drive. Of course I am upset, and will continue to shed more tears over the coming weeks, however, I am determined to make her happy in the future whilst supporting her get to a place whereby she sees me living a fulfilling life with a loving and beautiful family of my own. Yes, again the hopeless romantic in me is on display, and in conclusion, I believe the power of love is needed to replace the cloud of worry and concern strangling my family at present.

Please, just stop!

23rd April 2015: Sydney

No no no no no! I have tried my meditation and breathing exercises to no avail. It is now past midnight, and I just wished for it all stop. My stomach is cramping, rumbling and making me feel inclined to take up residence adjacent to the toilet. Attempts at reassuring myself via use of my past strategies have been unsuccessful, I simply can’t get the thought out of my head that it has come back! The effort needed in writing this is simply too much. I am scared, and am needing sleep to wake up with a fresh mind to put everything in perspective. It seems the darkness of the night combined with being alone brings me back to my childhood days of being afraid in the middle of the night. A definite case of the night terrors! I know this goes against what I advocate for, however, I have taken a pain killer to settle myself into a relaxed state whereby I will hopefully be able to do some visualisation exercises before drifting off to sleep.

Another mask to wear, this time it is was to hide the tears.

27th March 2015: Sydney, Australia

An appointment with my Professor two days ago resulted in an overwhelming feeling of normality sweeping throughout my mind and body. In extremely untypical circumstances, I had to hold myself together, ensuring my tears remained dormant for another day. Discussion on the very matter of holding back my years is whole another entry in itself, and on reflection, the reasoning for restricting my emotions is due in part to the facade deemed essential in showing a strength to the outside world whilst also attempting to decrease the emotional load on my mum who was present. It must be noted that my main concern regarding this entire process is the impact on my loved ones, especially my mum. Therefore, the point of having a facade is ironic as the main point from the appointment was summarised in the words of my Professor when stating he couldn’t see my trajectory being any better, and instead of showing joy, an outpouring of emotional overcame me. An experience in a medical setting comparable to the very first appointment when I was informed my life expectancy was no greater than six months should surgery not be opted for. Possibly, the simple reasoning derives from the reality of light at the end of tunnel approaching. Maybe a point worthy of tears.