...create a blog that is. But given the news I've had this week, it occurred to me that keeping a diary of how I feel might help me deal with how I feel about it - hence the Blog name, "Dealing with it". And the modern version of a diary is, I suppose, a blog.
Basically my mum has been diagnosed with ovarian cancer. There, I've said it - my mum has cancer. The words I hoped I'd never ever have to say but this last couple of weeks have been lurking there, waiting to be used.
She was taken ill in May with kidney problems. A shock to all of
us, as she just doesn't "do" ill - prior to May this year, the last time she was in hospital was 42 years earlier when I arrived in the world! The most ill I've ever known her was last time she had flu. The kidney problem went away and the hospital discharged her without, it seemed, really getting to the bottom of the problem. Life went back to normal. We went out for a walk with her when we visited the north east in August and all climbed up Penshaw Hill (that's mam just arriving at the top, on the left)...you'd never have guessed she was 73, she quite literally took it all in her stride. On the way back down one bloke even did a double-take and congratulated her for managing it!
Fast forward to the end of September. She'd been feeling under the weather and the doc had diagnosed cystitis, and given her antibiotics on the Tuesday, with the instruction that if she didn't feel better by the Sunday to call the weekend doctor or go to hospital. Sunday night I got a phone call from my younger sister up there, saying mum was still ill and refusing to call the doc - would I have a word? Called her and she sounded awful - said she didn't want to call the doc unnecessarily, but I said she should let the doc decide what's "unnecessary". Ended up with her promising me if she still felt rotten in the morning, she'd do it. Sis spoke to her the following morning and she told me that mum did indeed feel better.
The following Thursday I spoke to her, and she still sounded not quite 'right', but said she was taking a tonic from Boots
A week later....and a phone call to say she was back in hospital. Sounds like dad had fancied a trip into town, pestered her to go with him and she'd given in for a quiet life. She started feeling ill in town, got home and felt worse, started being sick so dad called the doc - and he promptly called an ambulance.
Family up there seemed to be fairly sure it was just a reoccurrance of May's problem and that she'd be up and about again in a few days. How wrong can you be?
Basically my mum has been diagnosed with ovarian cancer. There, I've said it - my mum has cancer. The words I hoped I'd never ever have to say but this last couple of weeks have been lurking there, waiting to be used.
She was taken ill in May with kidney problems. A shock to all of
us, as she just doesn't "do" ill - prior to May this year, the last time she was in hospital was 42 years earlier when I arrived in the world! The most ill I've ever known her was last time she had flu. The kidney problem went away and the hospital discharged her without, it seemed, really getting to the bottom of the problem. Life went back to normal. We went out for a walk with her when we visited the north east in August and all climbed up Penshaw Hill (that's mam just arriving at the top, on the left)...you'd never have guessed she was 73, she quite literally took it all in her stride. On the way back down one bloke even did a double-take and congratulated her for managing it!Fast forward to the end of September. She'd been feeling under the weather and the doc had diagnosed cystitis, and given her antibiotics on the Tuesday, with the instruction that if she didn't feel better by the Sunday to call the weekend doctor or go to hospital. Sunday night I got a phone call from my younger sister up there, saying mum was still ill and refusing to call the doc - would I have a word? Called her and she sounded awful - said she didn't want to call the doc unnecessarily, but I said she should let the doc decide what's "unnecessary". Ended up with her promising me if she still felt rotten in the morning, she'd do it. Sis spoke to her the following morning and she told me that mum did indeed feel better.
The following Thursday I spoke to her, and she still sounded not quite 'right', but said she was taking a tonic from Boots
A week later....and a phone call to say she was back in hospital. Sounds like dad had fancied a trip into town, pestered her to go with him and she'd given in for a quiet life. She started feeling ill in town, got home and felt worse, started being sick so dad called the doc - and he promptly called an ambulance.
Family up there seemed to be fairly sure it was just a reoccurrance of May's problem and that she'd be up and about again in a few days. How wrong can you be?
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