The Day Before Yesterday

'The more serious the illness, the more important it is for you to fight back, mobilising all your resources, spiritual, emotional, intellectual, physical'

-Norman Cousins

It seems to me that spiritual, emotional and intellectual health are deeply intertwined, having a profound affect on each other. Although I often feel I would give anything not to be experiencing this dreadful disease with all its side effects, I make every effort to look at it in a more positive light, using it for my own spiritual growth. This allows me to better deal with the chronic pain, as well as the limits placed on me by the diminishing use of my right arm/hand, as well as the clavicular lesion that is beginning to cause more problems. It allows me to find more meaning and purpose to my life and to live more fully in the 'now,' This brings me back to my soul and offers spiritual transformation and self realisation.

For reasons unknown, I have now become more conscious that it has taken me a great deal of pain and suffering to virtually 'force' me to grow spiritually and emotionally. In 'The Alchemy of Illness,' Kat Duff teaches us that the Indigenous communities believe that illness is the most reliable means of revelation and knowledge. We are forever changed by the experience of serious illness, learning things we would never have learned otherwise. Enriched Spiritual Health offers us comfort, meaning, harmony and purpose, hope strength and inner peace. Imagine how much easier life would be if we set out to develop these skills. Spiritual growth is about finding meaning and purpose in our life, discovering who we truly are and connecting with inner strength/peace hope and comfort in troubled times.- from information taken from Cynthia Perkins, M. Ed.

Experiencing life completely and consciously, even in the midst of great pain and suffering, is the essence of true spiritual growth. 'Be still and know that I am God' is the mantra that I use during my most difficult times.

The day before yesterday I woke to find my clavicular lesion weeping haemoserous. Although I was scheduled to have a fine needle biopsy on Monday I cancelled the appointment. I immediately phoned my' amazing' new Medical Oncologist, Dr Andre, explaining that I was fearful of the thought of a needle penetrating the wound. I feel there is no guarantee that it will not be the beginning of an open, ulcerating sore. I understand that my decision may, in effect, make it more difficult for him to choose suitable drugs should chemotherapy turn out to be my only option. I felt the procedure carries too many risks for my liking. He is adorable! He simply said that was' perfectly fine' with him. Although the changes were obvious, with the centre becoming opaque on Sunday, changing to blood filled Monday, I simply was not prepared for the weeping to begin Tuesday. My understanding is that this is the beginning of the ulceration, possible fungation of my tumour.

As we had planned to take my near new notebook computer into Maitland to have the data transferred I called in to see the on duty palliative care nurse regarding dressings. Sally said it was out of her area of expertise and nominated the community nurse who called in to see me today. Although I found her to be delightful, I immediately removed the dressing on her departure as I felt the dressing was not large enough and the tape was attached to an area of radiation damage. I find dressings and tape very irritating. Guess it will be up to Haydn to work it out with me. As usual!



Was it a Coincidence?

If you read my blog frequently you will know that it is an eclectic reflection of my life. What is it that others may observe as 'thriving' in the face of adversity? My so called 'interesting' life is 'normal' to me. I know nothing else! Who am I to draw comparisons? I endeavour to learn, and inspire, from each new challenge and experience. If there is any truth in the thought that we are here to learn lessons, then I am going to learn quickly.

Was it a coincidence that I watched an episode of Packed to the Rafters on Tuesday night?  I was left with are tears streaming down my cheeks. Mel's death in a motor vehicle accident was just to close to home; so many memories.  Just as I am affected by the passing of anyone as a result of breast cancer, so to the emotion raw and unchecked as I sat watching the programme and Mel's death in a trafic accident.

I am taken back in time to the morning of Tuesday 21 November, 2006. Was it a coincidence that I received a text message from Jeremy?  I read the message and surprised him by calling, rather than texting a response. As usual, he was overjoyed to hear from me and did not try to conceal his pleasure. We chatted about the previous weekend; he had apparently had a fabulous time. It pleased me to hear that life was good to him, and that he was getting on with it. He let me know that he had decided to take more interest in his personal appearance, making an appointment to have his hair cut and coloured on the Thursday night. My thoughts were that there must be some truth in a comment made by a radio broadcaster...  young men began to mature around the age of 24. He had turned 24 just 5 days previously. I remember thinking to myself  'He is safe now.' We laughed together and, when his boss Nudge arrived to take him to his job as a plasterer, we finished our conversation. My final words on that morning, 'Love you Sunshine.' Little did I know these would be the last words between us. On reflection, or was it a 'coincidence' that Claire chose to comment that few things stirred feelings of envy in her, but our relationship was definitely up there. I don't remember to many times that Jeremy and I were together, or chatting on the phone, that there wasn't joy and laughter. Others sensed the shared energy;  his mates loved 'hanging out' at our place.

Was it a coincidence that I went to bed  at 7.45pm on that night  but had difficulty sleeping? Normally, I would sit with Claire watching our favourite television programmes. I was unsettled, continually telling myself to 'go to sleep' with no effect. It seemed odd that I was still wide awake, therefore not surprised when the phone rang at approximately 10.10pm. It seemed to confirm my worst fears. There had to be a problem! It was my  beloved eldest son Damian who, on this occasion, was the bearer of heartbreaking news. Damian, and Tyneal, live in Melbourne; a three hour drive from Bairnsdale. It still amazes me that it was Damian who received a phone call advising him of the tragic accident that took the life of his younger brother Jeremy.

I learned that Damian (who is employed in the funeral industry) and Tyneal (a then student at the Victorian Police Academy) on receiving the news, had made the necessary phone calls to the Bairnsdale police. It was confirmed that Jeremy was deceased. In the meantime, Megan had also learned of the accident and she rang me as Jason drove her to the scene of the accident. My understanding is that she was hysterical, and vomiting, unable to function. When she arrived and found the rescue workers cutting her gorgeous, 6ft 6in brother from the wreckage, she was inconsolable knowing that her bro was in that car. It was too much for her and the police asked Jason  to take her to the morgue at the Bairnsdale hospital to wait. It was the very place at which I had given birth to Jeremy 24 years previously.

I believe Megan regrets that she did not have the opportunity to hold Jeremy in her arms one last time. She was allowed only to view him from behind glass at the hospital, although she was the one to formally identify the body. If only I had known; I would have begged her to come to Melbourne to view his body. I believe it would have helped enormously with the grieving process. Was it a coincidence that Jeremy died with a smile on his face? In spite of the horrific nature of the accident that took his life he was smiling. Was it Michael's jokes, or was it because Jesus laid His hand on him and gently whispered 'Come with me?'

Jeremy was not alone as he took his last breath. Was it a coincidence that Jeremy was comforted by a complete stranger named Michael, telling him jokes as he held him in his arms? Jeremy received the sacrament of the Holy Spirit in Confirmation the year his Father died. Was it a coincidence he chose to take Archangel Michael as his Patron Saint? He wanted a powerful guardian angel! As onlookers stood around watching on that night, Michael made the decision to be there for Jeremy. He stepped up to the task knowing only to well the heartache of losing a child. He had held his own baby in his arms as he lay dying. I asked Michael later why he thought jokes were what was needed at that time. Michael simply said he felt he had been led. I will be forever grateful to Michael; I believe he truly was like a 'Guardian Angel' to Jezz.

Although there are some things that are blurred about that time, I am going to try to put some of the pieces together in the next post. I now believe it is possible to receive messages from our deceased loved ones.

All God's angels come to us disguised.
-James Russell Lowell

Another Day of Mourning

Today, 23 October 2010 marks the fourth anniversary of the passing of my mother Valerie Ellen Townsend; it is also the month in which she was born. I wonder as I write this if others have connected dates as I do with births and deaths?

There is certainly a tinge of sadness as I reflect on my upbringing. What was it in Mum's life that allowed her to dwell on negativity as she overlooked the intrinsic goodness of life? Although family members had visited frequently for some months prior to her passing, and I had been there just the day before, it was not until later that I mentioned to my sister Toni  I found it odd that Mother had not mentioned that she loved me and yet she managed to tell my ex-husband Haydn. By the same token, I realised that I had not declared my love for Mum. Quite frankly, I think I feared rejection. Toni then told me that her experience was the same, although Mum found it in her heart to tell Brian - Toni's husband. Interesting! I then asked my other three siblings to share their experience. I soon learned that at least Mum did not discriminate. She died without telling any of her children how she felt. Love me, love me not, love me, love me not...

I remember a discussion in which I virtually accused Mum of not wanting me. Her reply still echoes in my ears ' I did not want any of you!' Odd sentiments for the mother of five children! Did Mum feel like that always, or was it just that point in time? Does it really matter now? Although we were raised in what appeared, at times, to be a loveless household, I have just found a card from Mum. It was sent in early 2006 and I suspect Mum knew then that there was something happening within her body. She told me that she loved me. Alleluia! She said she loved all of us declaring that she had not been one to tell us. Were we supposed to read her mind and to know from everything she did?  Being somewhat perceptive I felt she did things out of duty.

So why do I still live with, and 'hang out' with my ex-husband Haydn when I tell him, on occasions, that living with him is like living with my mother? Even he recognised that Mum carried out her responsibilities as a matter of duty. Or so it seemed. Maybe somewhere within me I see this as an opportunity to allow Haydn to see that there is another way.

I do know that there is not a single day that I do not think about my Spirit Child Jeremy, and the wonderful gift he has given me. Between he and his beloved Dad he taught me about unconditional love; something I will carry with me always. I recall my oncology social worker pointing out that she thought Jeremy had allowed me the freedom to be the person I most enjoyed being. I knew immediately that thought resonated with me. To be accepted and loved unconditionally is a true blessing.

So maybe in another post I will explore what love means to me. To finish this particular post I will simply say 'I love you Mum. I so wish I had been able to do it better.' The following is from:
Thought for Today.org.uk.

Like a Star

At the end of the day, on the wings of your thoughts, go beyond the cares and troubles of the world. Remove your mind from everywhere and everyone, and become blissfully detached, like a star.

Like a star, be free to radiate light, for your essence is light and peace. Enjoy the simplicity of the night sky, the peace. And then, when you want to, you can shoot down to earth.

Another Way to Carry Raymond With Me

A visit from Adrian Quain, (Funeral Director) some time after Ray's funeral, provided an unexpected surprise. I was overwhelmed to learn that he had taken the liberty of collecting Ray's cremated remains from the Beresfield Crematorium, in order to minimise costs, and had been holding them on my behalf. He decided to take just the tiniest amount of Ray's created remains and to place them on the back of a Holy Card with the verse SAFELY HOME before having it laminated. He provided the explanation that this was not something he had previously undertaken and yet he was determined to do something 'unique' for me.

Adrian reiterated the affect the home visit had on him and the love he had experienced within the home. Guess it is slightly unusual to say that I not only carry Ray in my heart, but in my wallet as well. Oh well, I have often been accused of being 'different.'

Safely Home

I am home in Heaven, dear ones;

Oh, so happy and so bright!

There is perfect joy and beauty

In this everlasting light.

All the pain and grief is over

Every restless tossing passed

I am now at peace forever,

Safely home in Heaven at last.

Did you wonder I so calmly

Trod the valley of the shade?

Oh! But Jesus’ love illuminated

Every dark and fearful glade

And He came Himself to meet me

In that way so hard to tread;

And with Jesus’ arm to lean on

Could I have one doubt or dread?

Then you must not grieve so sorely,

For I love you dearly still

Try to look beyond earth’s shadows

Pray to trust our Father’s Will

There is work still waiting for you

So you must not idly stand

Do it now, while life remaineth-

You shall rest in Jesus’ land.

When that work is all completed,

He will gently call you Home

Oh, the rapture of that meeting

Oh, the joy to see you come



Back to Ray's Funeral and Beyond

I think you are probably struggling to put all the pieces of the jigsaw of my life together as you go from post to post. Suddenly, there seems to be so much to say as I awaken each day to the uncertainty of life. With the knowledge that we are born to die, it seems to be perfectly natural to be talking about life and death. Although it was my intention to leave the posts concerning Ray until March - the month in which he was born and died - somehow it has become far too important, so I intend to keep 'plugging' away.

So.. back to the days following Ray's passing. I was still feeling very emotional, and profoundly affected by the fact that the funeral director had suggested he was happy to waive funeral costs. On a subsequent visit, he shared with me that HE felt the love I had for Raymond (a Post for next time.) So, in spite of the many years of hardship as a result of Ray's illness, we still enjoyed a love that shone through. We literally had NO money at the time of Ray's death and here I was being told that Adrian was happy to be of service. I still smile to myself when I reflect on those days. I had a Mother that did not know me and a funeral director that felt he had 'summed' me up in just over one hour.

Once again Megan was more than happy to write a verse to be used as a Return Thanks. She wrote, as usual, from the heart and penned the following:

The sun it shines so bright today

The grass it is so green

The world for him is perfect now

More than it's ever been

This is the time to say to you

How lucky we all are

To have known such a special man

Who sparkled like a star

Although at times the path was rough

And we struggled to get through

Everything worked out for the best

With a little help from you

Remember this in times to come

That in our hearts you'll stay

For it was the strength from others

That helped us on our way

We thank you for your kindness

And all the things you've done

To help us through this time in life

With this loss we feel as one

The love this man has given

Has been returned all round

For even in the tough times

It was peace in life he found

Written by Megan Louise Radford (born 1972)

Get me Outta Here..... Please?

Although it was my intention to continue on from the previous post it has not happened. That will come later.

Why is it that for the past two to three weeks I have felt like I need to be scraped from the bottom of the bird cage?

My last consultation with Dr Sales was pretty much routine. The feelings of wellness did not last long. I found myself feeling tired and lethargic within days; maybe even a little sad on occasions. Putting those feelings aside, I readily agreed to book flights to go to Melbourne to visit my children. I had been happy to forego my trip to Floriade to spend time with family. Knowing that 22nd October is Damian and Tyneal's first wedding anniversary I went ahead and booked tickets for myself and Haydn to depart on Thursday 21st. I was excited! It has been far too long since I have spent time Damian, Megan or Carla and respective families/grandchildren. Two days later I experienced a major hiccup with bleeding from where the sun doesn't shine. Being on blood thinning medications adds to the problem. By Wednesday I realised that I simply did not have the energy for the flight and the driving the trip would entail.

I became very emotional. Knowing that crying was not going to achieve anything I picked up the phone to call Damian. I had offered to stay with Jascha, allowing Damian the freedom to do something special with Tyneal. Why I was being such a sook? I had no idea! I have always felt I had a strong constitution. Not any more! Although I started off crying, Damian soon had me laughing with his suggestion of wearing adult diapers and travelling anyway. At the end of our conversation he had allowed me to be convinced that my health must be the priority. They would simply make other arrangements for Jascha. Thank you Damian. You always manage to bring things back to an even keel.

Knowing that I have been feeling rather tired, and sad, I feel it is time to address all issues that may be contributing to my current crisis. The isolation at the farm is probably number one. Femara is right up there as the joint swelling and pain seems to be getting progressively worse. On reading Dr Aaaron Tabor's latest blog entry I became aware that having physical limitations as a result of breast cancer treatment increases my risk of death due to any cause by 40%. I rather think that whether the cause is the cancer, or the treatment, it is something else to overcome. I want so much to blog regularly, as well as keep in touch via email, with my favourite people, and I struggle to do that now as a one or two finger typist. Then of course, there is always the loss of a child. Although it will be four years next month since Jeremy's accident, the pain remains. I am fatigued and yet I cannot help but ask 'Is there something else going on?'

So back to today. Reflecting on all of this, I realise that it is necessary to make a decision; time to put a plan in place. Mentally, I have made a decision that I can live with and feel at peace with myself. Now it is time to hasten slowly.

The End is Near

Some time ago my friend Sue, from Eagle Reach, paid $20 to Del-Marie for four little pink Breast Cancer Bears. They are particularly cute, and I had run short when handing them out to Group 33 friends at our last Breast Cancer Support Group luncheon. The money raised goes to the National Breast Cancer Research Foundation. I was happy to purchase them knowing that funds raised go towards prevention, as well as finding a cure for cancer. A quick phone call to her today led to a full day's outing, as well as providing the opportunity for me to pay the money I owe and collect the bears. Sue had a list of 'jobs' to be done at Maitland. I decided to go along for the ride. While browsing the isles of Coles Supermarket I was delighted to pick up Acid Free Sheet Protectors. I had no idea they were available; I now have the perfect way to store those letters from the past. Whoohoo...

Although I managed to 'last the distance' with Ray, it would be dishonest of me not to admit that there were difficult times. Times that I actually thought Ray would outlive me. I wonder now just what was going through my head at those times.  Ray was 51 and would 'celebrate' another birthday on 18 March. I was not unduly worried when he was prescribed antibiotics by the doctor on Tuesday 8 March, 1994. Coincidentally, it was the very date in 1990 [four years previously] that Mum arrived in Melbourne, from Dubbo. Ray had been referred to Damien Jenson at the Alfred Hospital after a CT Scan showed a large brain tumour. He was scheduled for  neuro surgery at the Alfred Hospital on 9 March, 1990.

Fast forward four years. On 9 March, 1994, we opened the blinds in the lounge room to enjoy the early morning sun rising in the East. The day appeared perfect. Ray sat in his comfortable chair, with the sun streaming through the window warming his back, while I made his morning coffee. For the 27 years of  our marriage, Ray had taken his tea and coffee black and, for reasons I do not remember, he found he loved his coffee made with milk. He was looking forward to the pleasure of that early morning 'cuppa.'

Writing about these times brings the memories flooding back; like reminiscing on yesterday. It took no time for me to realise that there were changes going on at that moment that Ray did not understand. He had the cup to his mouth and, as he went to lower it, his actions stopped. Literally! This movement appeared to be in slow motion. The coffee cup, removed from his mouth, on the way down, only to find it stopped midway. I am unable to explain the reasons for these changes, it seemed unimportant to ask the doctor later exactly what had taken place. I know that I was alone with Jeremy, our 11 year old child,  and we had a situation that required action. I gave no thought to calling for assistance when I realised that Raymond was no longer able to do for himself. It seemed his body had simply 'shut down.' No discomfort of any kind. A cup of coffee only half drunk.This makes me smile now when I think about the saying that 'an optimist sees the glass as half full while the pessimist sees it as half empty.' This was neither; it simply was.

I asked for help from Jeremy and, together, we lifted Ray from the chair and carried him into our bedroom. There we lovingly placed him into bed. In hindsight, I could have made the bed with fresh linen but that thought did not enter my head at the time; I simply wanted Ray to be comfortable. Somewhere in my sub- conscious, maybe I was expecting him to make a recovery of sorts. It is a task I had never invisaged asking my youngest child to undertake. Ray was no longer able to communicate. It was something that, even to this day, I do not fully understand.

It was this day that we also lost a very close personal friend. I had worked with Val Crowe at GMAC and her husband Tony was Godfather to our firstborn son Damian. Val had succumbed very quickly to her pancreatic cancer.

I recall the phone call to my Mother in which I asked her to come to Newcastle. She replied that it would not be until Monday. Something made me say that I thought that would be too late. Thankfully, she agreed to catch the coach from Dubbo and would arrive Friday the 11th.

Mum's arrival gave me the freedom, and the peace of mind, to climb into bed beside Ray. I was content to stay there as the succession of family and friends called to pay there respects. Among the visitors was the local Parish Priest who administered the Last Rights. Our very dear friend Helen Staley arrived from Melbourne to stay with us. She was able to keep Jeremy occupied at this time with bike rides and movies. I will be forever grateful to her for her presence; it lightened a very heavy load. The time spent with friends was delightful as we recalled past memories and wonderful times. Close friends came and went throughout each day. I felt sure Ray was aware of everything that was said and it seemed only natural to tell tales that were uplifting.

There was one exception when Mum, wringing her hands, began crying and saying loudly that she had no idea how I would be able to manage on my own. At that particular time, Helen was holding Ray's hand, and she shared with me later that she felt him give it just the slightest squeeze. I could not help myself and asked Mum just what she meant by her words. Mum said that she did not believe I would be able to live without Ray and there is no way I could manage as a single parent. I whispered gently that it broke my heart to think that she did not know her own daughter.

On Sunday 13th Ray's breathing became very shallow. Lea Shelley, a Registered Nurse, called early after finishing a nightshift at the local private hospital. Lea's son Matthew had befriended Jeremy when we arrived in Warners Bay from Lakes Entrance. I had no idea that my darling Raymond was close to having a bedsore. Lea was absolutely amazing as she bathed Ray's body and anointed him with beautiful oils. I could not have done any of that on my own and, to be honest, was not aware of how beautiful it could be to experience a close friend tend to the body of the man you have loved for 27 years.

I was aware that I was living with a fearful headache. Apart from the odd breaks I had been alongside Ray constantly, leaving his side as little as possible. Each time I returned to the bed I became conscious that he was making some sort of super human effort to edge closer to me.

On Monday 14th March, 1994 I sat with Ray, Helen by my side, as we, once again, watched the sun rise in the East. Ray's breathing was now intermittent, and we spoke gently of times with the Radfords, Staleys and friends out of the Singapore office of International Harvester Company. We described the spectacular view of the rising sun as my beloved husband took his final breath at approximately 6.30am, just 4 days short of his 52nd birthday.

Aries are 'Carers'

Haydn and I, both widowed, met and married in 1996. Although we separated, later divorcing, we remained the very best of friends. It was a tragic set of circumstances that made living together almost impossible; those that know us are not surprised that we are still together. This came about, more or less, as a result of my Breast Ca diagnosis. Haydn was prepared to do everything possible to give me the very best chance of survival.

I continually ask myself what has changed?  These are uncharted waters for me. For as long as I have know Haydn he has stated, most emphatically, that Aries are 'carers.' He wears it as a badge of honour. He has a daughter that now mimics his words.

Why do I not feel that I am being 'cared' for? What do I say when I am not in agreement? It seems to me that anyone can be a carer; people get paid to work as carers. Being someone that cares is quite different. I remember reading somewhere that the person that cares least in a relationship, rules the relationship. I suspect there may be some truth in that statement. I think it was the poet H.W. Auden that said 'If equal affection cannot be, let the more loving be me.' All the more reason to embrace my current situation and learn to be more loving.

Maybe I am being overly sensitive, but it is almost as if duty calls when Haydn does things for me. I feel so very vulnerable these days that tears are a common thing. I am immediately told to 'STOP BEING EMOTIONAL.' Why won't he listen when I try to explain that tears are an essential part of the healing process? For me, at least.

Many of you know that the isolation of life at the farm has presented many challenges. I willingly moved to the farm at the time of our retirement, secure in the knowledge that I owned a motor vehicle and held a Driver's Licence. I still hold the Driver's Licence but do very little driving. Fatigue is a common side effect of the medications that control my pain, allowing me to function, albeit at a much lower level than I am used to. The return trip to the city is 180 kilometres and it seems I may never drive that distance again. I will never put myself, or others, at risk. Maybe I have lost my confidence. Who knows?

The thing about Hayd is his love of all things farming. He heads out first thing in the morning. Lunchtime comes and he will come in and get his own lunch. What is wrong with me having the expectation that he will at least consider me? I just don't get it! Food is not really a priority for Hayd, he claims he eats to live. Knowing that healthy food choices are important for me at this times it concerns me that I find myself dependent on someone to assist with food preparation. There must be 'gadgets' out there that will allow me to live a little more independently. I feel extremely frustrated that I am unable to chop, slice, peel etc. Even making a salad sandwich for lunch [using the left hand] can be very difficult.

How do I learn to 'EMBRACE' my current situation?  I have to be asked to be driven to doctor's appointments. I miss attending therapy sessions because I have no way of getting there. My arm is swollen with lymphoedema and I have enrolled in the Encore hydrotherapy programme, without knowing how I will get to weekly sessions. I miss my friends, and the lunches, and group meetings that were part of my life. It seems like it was another world. Haydn and I have never had mutual friends. He likes to live the life of a recluse. Gardening and domestic duties are on the back burner for me these days because of the disability that I am learning to live with. In spite of all of this, my 'real' issue is the fact that I live with someone that claims to be a 'carer' and he does not 'care' enough to ensure that we eat healthy and nutritious meals together.

I suspect there is more to this......

When Enough is Enough

I believe that at the time I agreed to marry Haydn I undertook a role, although I probably did not recognise it at the time.

Haydn and his late wife Leigh were married for about 27 years; they have 3 children, all of them living in this region. Leigh was an only child and her death left a gaping hole for her Mother Dorothy [Dot] who is now 92 years of age. Daughter Alex is the only family member to take time for her grandmother.

Dot has enjoyed the most amazing health and is not coping well with the periodic burning sensation that she gets in her legs. Fortunately it is not always there. Either Haydn or I call daily to check that she is OK. We offer to help where we can although there are often time constraints as we struggle to fit in my medical appointments; we all know there have been plenty of those over the past two years. We regularly buy her beer and fruit and vegetables and take them to her. Yes! She enjoys a glass of white wine with lunch and a beer at night. I have mentioned previously that retiring to the farm was not a good idea; this is the time we need to be close to all services. The 180 kilometre round trip adds about 2.5 hours. They are often long days.

We have noticed lately that Dot has become very despondent and cries frequently during our phone conversations. Her eyesight is failing, making reading difficult. Apart from that, she is quite agile and lives alone. She would like to continue to live where she is as it is across the road from the shopping centre. The most pressing problem appears to be that she has outlived her friends and loneliness has become enemy number one.

She mentioned recently that she had gone to to Garden City shopping centre looking for the Target store. She asked directions and became so overwhelmed when she could not follow them that she found her way to the bus stop and headed for home with great urgency. When I suggested that Haydn and I would be happy to take her she thought it was a lovely idea as there was some shopping she would do there.

Today was the day! Funny thing is that when we arrived at the shopping centre she had no interest in looking in the shops. What do you do with a 92y.o. from 10.30am to 12.30 while waiting for granddaughter and great granddaughter to arrive? I suggested coffee and, although she was not interested initially, she succumbed, and so we sat down waiting for Alex and Amarlie to arrive for lunch.

Dot shared with me the fact that she is tired of living; the loneliness has left its mark and it is obvious that she now sees the glass as half empty. She is fast losing sight of the joy of living. The passion has gone.

I asked her what her feelings were on euthanasia. She says she agrees whole heartedly but does not feel she has the where-with-all so it is not an option.

I have just begun reading 'Denial of the Soul' [Spiritual and Medical Perspectives on Euthanasia and Mortality] by M Scott Peck. Being a believer in Eternal Life I am determined to learn my life's lessons knowing that it is not when or how I die, rather how I live that is important. I am prepared to put my trust in the medical system [and the Lord] to provide quality pain management and palliative care as necessary.

In the meantime I have just gone to make myself a cup of ginger tea. The honey jar was empty so I had to open a new one myself as Haydn is in bed. Just for the fun of it.... try putting your dominant hand behind your back and opening a new jar. Makes me smile as I endeavour not to let the frustrations overcome me. Who says I do not need to be in care?

Chalk and Cheese

Haydn and I had put plans in place to do an exercise. Given that I am currently not driving and, at times, wonder if things will ever change, we decided to look at real estate elsewhere.

Haydn called the local real estate agent for an appraisal. Armed with the knowledge that the farm was worth $???? he had thought that maybe the farm could be sold if, in fact, he could purchase another property closer to a township offering us more services than we have here. The problem with living where we live is the isolation for me closely combined with lack of services.

6 kilometres to our north we have the village of Gresford which has a general store, post office and pub. We are blessed to have a coffee shop at the moment but, not sure how long it will last as it has opened and closed 3 times in the 2 years we have lived here. 6 kilometres to the south we have the village of Vacy with nothing more than a general store and pub.

Maybe we could stumble on a great property closer to services. We are 30 minutes from the regional centre of Maitland and just over 1 hour from medical services, including the Calvery Mater hospital at which I have my cancer treatments.

We set off yesterday to meet with real estate agent number 1 in the township of Clarencetown. He suggested we drive to the property and he quickly jumped into the back seat thereby saving his own fuel. We turned off the sealed road and, as we made our way along a winding dirt road with lots of water filled pot holes, Haydn asked if this was the property. He was rudely told 'No. Keep going!' Shortly Haydn asked again if we were on the land that was for sale as he could tell that it was not good farming country. I was then told that my husband was a hard marker...too severe. How could I then admit that I had absolutely no interest in going further as we were even more isolated than we are now. This rude man was persistent and so we kept going. When we were discussing the benefits of living in our north facing home we were told we should not be making comparisons. I ask 'How then do we make the decision about value for money?' Silly me! Cannot remember exactly what was said but I remember how I felt. Could not wait to get this man out of our vehicle as I felt him grate like chalk on a blackboard.

We then met with real estate agent number 2 in the township of Dungog. Haydn explained the situation and the reason for our enquiry. After discussion about the place we had sought information on, he suggested that it would be perfect for me but not suitable for Haydn the farmer.

As we walked to the front door I was surprised to find this delightful man put one arm around me, while taking my other hand in his. He expressed his delight at meeting me while encouraging me to take special care of myself. I could feel the shift in energy levels as he walked with us to the footpath. He continued to encourage me with his carefully chosen words. Before long he was shedding a tear. As we hugged, I asked him to talk to me about what was happening. It turned out that his Mother had passed 3 years previously. He walked with us to the Pajero all the while discussing the situation and the rise in the incidence of cancer.

I felt deeply touched by the experience and could not help drawing a comparison between the two agents. Definitely chalk and cheese!

Later in the afternoon I received an email in which he suggested that he had no idea what had happened as that was not his usual style. He had realised however, that he did need to spend more time with his Dad giving them both the opportunity to heal while learning to live without their much loved Wife, Mother and Grandmother.

In the meantime we are no closer to solving the dilemma of whether or not a move would work for us...

Another Day

Another day...another doctor's visit.

The discussion appears always to be about side effects of medication; and therefore changes to same. I was disappointed to find that my INR reading was under 2 and, not quite at optimum level to prevent blood clotting. An increase in Coumadin to 6mg should give me an INR reading of between 2 and 3 within 3 to 4 days.

Once again, Dr Sales mentioned the obvious drawbacks of living at Vacy. I can say, with absolute certainty, that the decision to retire to the farm was not a good one, given my current health problems. What a good idea it seemed when I was healthy, and capable of driving myself wherever I wanted to go. An hour to Newcastle was nothing.

Somehow it seems I have made my bed, as my late Mother would say. Haydn is a farmer; this is HIS life. As I face my own mortality I miss my friends and the many opportunities to visit the local shopping centre for a cup of coffee. Or, to watch the world go by.

As I ponder my current situation it would seem I have a way to go to make any type of life changing decision. Dr Sales assures me I am a long way from going into care, which I had thought was probably my EASY option. Oh well! Back to the drawing board.

Of course there is also the option of believing in the countless possibilities of the mind. Telling myself that this arm is capable of doing everything that it is required to do. If I can do that, as well as getting my medications to the stage that I do not suffer from fatigue, then I could be back behind the wheel and participating in life once more.

Today was an example of just how things go pear shaped while in my current situation. Left home at 8.30am. Saw my doctor at 10am. Finished at 11am. Picked up prescriptions from pharmacy, grabbed some lunch for a 1pm appointment for Bowen Therapy which works a treat on my arm. Remember, Haydn is the driver and he gets to sit in our vehicle for the wait. Not much fun for him and, although he does not complain, I am reasonably sensitive these days. It seems to me, I have lost my freedom. I struggle with the knowledge that I have lost my independence.

As I sat enjoying the company of Ellen [receptionist], I found myself getting agitated when 1pm passed and1.30pm came around. Daphne was still with another patient. I knew that by the time she had finished with me it would be 3pm and, therefore we would be late getting home; Haydn becomes quite tired sitting around all day. I decided to leave without treatment. This would never happen if I was on my own. Why do I feel so guilty?

I know my intuition will tell me when it is time to make changes.

In the meantime I am reminded of the saying 'Things work out best for people who make the best of the way things work out'

As I Stand Now

Yesterday I had a consultation with Dr Richard Burstal from Hunter Integrated Pain Service. I found him to be compassionate and understanding. Having requested a referral through my General Practitioner, I was optimistic that I would be offered some pain relief other than my current list of medications.

It turned out to be a painful emotional experience. I awoke in the morning feeling unwell; not at all like me. When I arrived at the Mercy Hospice for the Outpatients Clinic I could not believe that my stomach was churning. Even my coffee from the brilliant barista did nothing to settle things down. I was able to recognise the reason for my dilemma. The last time I had been in that particular part of the hospital was 1993/94 when I accompanied my late husband Ray to meditation sessions held at the hospice. Bitter sweet memories.

Taking 80mg of Oxycontin [1 b.d.] is a concern as I have been led to believe that it is not terribly effective for nerve pain. There is also the fact that it is highly addictive. Dr Burstal reassured me that the Lyrica [Pregabalin] and Epilim [Valproate Sodium] were used for that purpose. In his opinion, the 80mg of Oxycontin night and morning was not a huge problem. Although my pain is reasonably well managed, I am well aware that there have been times in the past - and likely to be times in the future -that it will be different. It is important for me to feel that I am prepared for the future and I know exactly who to turn to should the need arise.

My current treatment is designed to give me quality of life and, unfortunately, the fear factor often rears its ugly head. Having had uncontrolled pain on numerous occasions, I do not wish to go there again.

Now that Dr Burstal has seen me while I am feeling well, I have been reassured that there are many options available, should the need arise. What a relief!

Today I attended the monthly meeting of the Oncology Support Group at the Calvery Mater Hospital. I felt it would be particularly interesting as I personally have always used some form of complimentary treatment.

Our topic for this month being Anti-oxidants and other Complementary Medicines. We were to have Jon Dickson as our guest presenter. Jon has 4yrs post graduate qualifications in herbal medicine along with his pharmacy qualifications. He has 35 yrs experience in community medicine and 14 yrs experience in Herbal Medicine.

Jon is keen to introduce complementary to orthodox medicines which have scientific evidence to back them up.

Unfortunately, he was unable to attend due to a sudden death. Seems it will be rescheduled. I look forward to that.

There was some discussion about the benefit of following the asparagus cancer treatment and it surprised me to learn that one member has been using it for about 6 months while another intends to commence shortly. I believe the jury is out on the success of the treatment and it is certainly not something I would commence midway through treatment without the approval of treating doctors.

I believe it is important to remain optimistic. I find myself reflecting on complimentary treatments which are often suggested. Undertake it only if I truly believe it will work for me.

And........ never, never, never give up HOPE