Sunday. 21st April 2013
The words “ bowel cancer” hangs over us like a big black cloud.
I have no idea what Michael is thinking and if I attempt to ask I will be “fussing.”
He started laughing ironically, when watching the London marathon this morning. It seems everybody is either running in memory of somebody who has died from bowel cancer, or has survived and is running to raise money for bowel cancer charities. I know it is no different, but suddenly bowel cancer is all around us, a, as a threatening reminder, when Michaels way is to ignore it.
There are adverts encouraging you to send a text to donate three pound, Adverts asking us to give twelve pounds a month, posters encouraging you to use screening kits. Tributes to “brave” people who dies of bowel cancer last week and so on . We are starting to get the giggles every time something else comes along.
Of course I now realise that, previously it passed us by as we thought it did not apply to us. Now of course these adverts are a poignant reminder.
We have different family cultures and approaches to illness and indeed problems.
They just ignore it, or talk about “it” in hushed tones ( “she’s had it all taken away, you know!”) in the hope that “it” will somehow sort it’self out and disappear, which it often does.
Whereas my lot shout it from the rooftops, discuss it pull it apart, take it to the worst case scenario and deal with the imaginary consequences. So if the worst happens we are ready for it.
Also with my medical background, illnesses have no mystery or stigma for me and I like to know what is the full picture.
So he has gone to a car boot sale today, to keep his mind off things. He did say that “the worst thing will be telling the kids” not much other comment, that seems to be his biggest dread.
It drives me mad that he keeps things secret from his children, because I am included in the conspiracy Last evening , he was even going along with plans for his grandsons birthday party on May 4th, when with luck he will be in hospital, or recovering from surgery…….and I should be in San Francisco. How will he explain I am still here?
But I have to respect the way they do things. This is their coping mechanism developed over many years.
I can’t imagine what he is going through and I really don’t know what to say, …. so I say nothing. Maybe that is the best thing I can do for him. Act normally. Be nice to him. or not nice as i usually would be. I just want to know what to do for him. Do the right thing. How to make it better.
But of course I can’t. We are in limbo.
He gives me extra hugs, when he leaves and comes home and this morning I found him cuddled at the back of me in our huge bed. When he never even strays over to my side, ever!
Meanwhile the knot is constantly there in my stomach. The time drags and it seems a long time till the appointment on Friday.
Thanks for all you people out there. Writing this blog is keeping me sane!