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!



My Breast Cancer Recurrence

Although not a particularly clear picture, it does give some idea of the recurrence of my breast cancer in the soft tissue surrounding the clavicle.

'Medicine sometimes snatches away health, sometimes gives it.'

Ovid Quote [Ancient Roman classical Poet and Author of Metamorphoses, 43BC-17]

Although this entry is about the reason for my absence on these pages, it is also a platform for me to give thanks to those that have taken the time to contact me voicing concern at my absence. I am amazed that so many have emailed me personally, enquiring after my well being. I am indebted to you for the gift of your friendship.  Please let me say that you have become more like 'family' than my own.

To be perfectly honest, I am not really sure why it has taken me so long to organise myself to do what I love most; that is to blog. We did manage to do a road trip to Victoria for which I am very grateful. I succeeded in spending time with each of my three children and their families. On our return, I decided to act on my concerns, making an urgent appointment to see my doctor. He agreed that immediate action was necessary. The lesion on my clavicle, growing rapidly and causing the area surrounding it to become very inflamed, required treatment.

My appointment with my Radiation Oncologist did not go particularly well. I asked him if what I was looking at could have been caused by the radiation given to treat my cancer. He avoided my eyes and denied that was the reason, although his silence told me all I needed to know.

I then saw my Medical Oncologist who, once again, proved himself to be 'my kind' of doctor. He explained that what he was looking at appeared to be breast cancer recurrence in the soft tissue. He said it is not uncommon, and, although it is not usually fatal, complications can kill. Chemotherapy is not given routinely as it is not effective. Dr Van has requested another CT scan prior to seeing him on 19 May. I must admit to being slightly concerned about radiation given the number of scans undertaken over the past 5 years. My last one was in January.

Tonight I decided to seek information on possible cause and treatment of cancer recurrence in the soft tissue. I was not surprised to find that on one of the reliable Cancer Council websites, radiation given to treat breast cancer has shown to be a possible cause of recurrence in soft tissue. Naturally, the risks are greater the higher the doses of radiation given, and I was given what was considered to be the highest [safe] dose.

Where to from here? I have no idea really...

Dastardly December Decisions

'Have faith in your dreams and someday your rainbow will come smiling through. No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep believing, the dream that you wish will come true.' - Author Unknown

The process of grief is multifaceted. According to Barbato and Irwin 1992 grief is fundamentally an emotional response to loss, the expression of which can include, sadness, sorrow, fatigue, depression, anger, guilt, anxiety. The list goes on! Although I feel that I have managed to avoid many of these symptoms it would seem that, intermingled with similar after-effects of Breast Cancer, I may not be the person I think I am . Much has been written about the effects of both grief and breast cancer/cancer on relationships. We know that many do not survive. I had considered myself to be one of the lucky ones.

It is now 5 years since my surgery. I am just one year into my treatment with Femara; 4 to go! God willing! It is nothing short of a miracle that I am still here. Somewhere along the way it appears that I have lost myself. According to Haydn I have not recognised the loss. Although I consciously grieve for the many losses in my life, I had not been aware that I might also be grieving for the loss of self. Haydn is struggling with the person I have become while I would have said he did not even notice. He simply gets on with his life. I understand Haydn's frustrations. After all, he is my ex-husband; I know him well. We have been together 14 years. Although we separated, later divorcing, we have never been apart. I simply moved out, taking Jeremy with me. This I did to protect myself and my child. We continued to fraternise.

I have noticed for some time that the relationship has become strained. I am used to Haydn and his need to retreat into his 'cave' at the appropriate times. It is his 'thinking' time. I was quite unprepared for the outcome this time. For the first time he laid his cards on the table with complete honesty. I appreciate that. Many things were said. It is not my intention to go into them here other than to say that it has given me plenty to think about.

Each time I go to discuss the situation I burst into tears. He then says it would have been better to say nothing as he cannot handle my tears. I reassure him that tears are good and I wish I had cried more as they are a great emotional release. There is no shame for him to admit that he feels let down by what has happened in his life and wants to 'grab' life and run with it. Strange, I feel exactly the same way. The question is 'Can we do it together?'

Haydn feels he is 'missing out' while I see him as 'living his dream.' He loves the farm. Being out in the paddocks, on his tractor, or with his cattle is what he loves to do. He has the freedom to hop in his vehicle and go wherever his heart takes him. His family are close by; he can see them whenever he chooses. There are things in our relationship Hayd finds difficult. At just 63 he has much to look forward to. With the 'right' partner, in good health, life could be good for him.

On the other hand, I rely on him to take me to appointments. I miss out on so much rather than ask him to give up his time. I miss my family and my friends. I love my cyber friends who fill a HUGE void however, I miss personal contact. I feel the need to find my passion! I am no longer interested in 'housekeeping' and the fatigue prevents me from participating in many activities.

It is interesting to note that Haydn does not share the same point view. I am grateful to him for his honesty and have explained that this is like a game of 'hot potato.' The 'hot potato' is in my hands and it is now up to me to decide what to do with it. My feelings are that this is something I need to 'hang onto' until the New Year, providing I don't get burnt.

At the end of the day it takes two very special people to survive all that we have experienced in our lives. Simply put, maybe we are not the people we thought we were.

I think I will have a look at the movie EAT PRAY LOVE. There may be something there for me.

Help from the Australian Taxpayer

I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel. - Maya Angelou

Is there such a thing as 'something' for 'nothing?' My answer to that would have to be 'yes,' and 'no.' Maybe I am a little confused!  I have always said that 'nothing' is 'free' and yet it seems I receive 'plenty' just  doing what I love. Writing my Blog gives me such pure joy that I  am in touch with these feelings  knowing that my Followers are growing in number. In the process I am left with Comments that gladden my heart, providing love, wisdom and so much more. I continue to meet the most amazing people to whom I am very grateful.

I am also grateful to my doctor and my dentist. My dentist advised me of an Australian Government programme providing dental treatment to patients living with chronic medical conditions, and complex care needs as verified by a General Medical Practitioner. I approached my doctor who duly ticked all the boxes and decided that I was indeed eligible for the programme providing AU$4,250 over two years. Although I am no longer a taxpayer, I have paid taxes all my working life. Maybe this is what Karma is all about?

Given that the condition of my teeth, and gums, are deteriorating as a result of medications taken to prolong my life it is imperative that I receive regular check-ups. It was at my scheduled appointment yesterday that I discovered there was a glitch in the system and my application had not been processed. On learning this Dr Amna Khan, my dentist, advised me there would be NO CHARGE for yesterday's consultation. Not only is she a wonderful dentist she is a superb human being.

So, to the Australian Taxpayers, my doctor, my dentist and Blog Buddies I say 'THANK YOU.'

Thanks also to my wonderful Case Manager Trish. I was excited at the prospect of having a Scribe for 4 hours. She was due here this morning at 10.30am  to do my Christmas Cards. I waited in anticipation, knowing there are friends with whom I have had no contact this past 12 months. A Christmas message lets them know I am still around. This is another funded service; maybe it's a case of 'good help is hard to find.' Apparently the Scribe claimed she could not find our place; rather than contact her employer for further instructions, she left the area.

I am left waiting...waiting....waiting.

Our First 'Pensioner' Day Out

Just have to do a 'quick' post tonight while I am still feeling uplifted. Each night Haydn goes to bed at approximately 8.30pm while I sit in the living room, catching up with my favourite television characters and communicating with my treasured cyber friends. Thank goodness for computers, and, in particular notebooks, as mine goes where I go. Incidentally, that has not been too many places recently, however, I intend to change that. In anticipation I spoke to one of Claire's friends today;  he has agreed to look out for a new PC for me. Watch out all you people hooked up to Skype!

Saturday and Sunday nights Haydn listens to Carter Edwards for the short while it takes him to fall asleep. He enjoys Carter because he sees him as a patriotic Australian which is a rarity in today's society. Carter is both a radio broadcaster and an entertainer. Haydn suggested we attend Carter's Show at the Hexham Bowling Club. We have not been out at night since moving to the farm. That is probably one of the things that has me believing life is passing me by. Today we paid our $10 entry fee and arrived for an 11am start.

Carter performed for the first hour with a guest spot from a bloke named Gordon ,who appeared from nowhere carrying a guitar and claiming he could sing. And. Sing he could! Although he performed only one number he had a very powerful voice and his 'easy' style was enjoyable.

We then went downstairs for our $7 lunch. Everything went smoothly; we both chose Chinese which was very tasty. At this stage we had spent $17 per head. Cheap!

As newcomers, we introduced ourselves to Carter's wife Debby who was sitting behind us. Debby ensured we met Carter. Carter was very personable and sat with us for a chat during the break. He spoke of the ruination of this fabulous country and the fact that our imports far exceed our exports. It is no longer a case of 'Home on the sheep's back.'

Lunch over, we were introduced to Drew Ashley. who currently entertains on the cruise ships. Drew commenced with the story that he believed he had been given the lead role in Man of La Mancha only to find he was understudy to our infamous Australian Anthony Warlow. Anthony apparently did not understand the word 'sickie,' hence Drew sat in the wings for the duration of the running of the show.

From the first note of Impossible Dream I was in love with his singing. He was, without a doubt, as good as any singer I have seen perform. I have a passion for Musical Theatre. Drew was brilliant! Tonight I sit with lyrics and melodies of Man of La Mancha and Phantom of the Opera flowing into my very being, bringing with it a sense of peace and healing. Debby shared with us that just prior to the concert Drew had been signed up by an American agent. Maybe today will be my one and only opportunity to enjoy him perform.

We also introduced ourselves to another couple and learned that the husband is currently undergoing treatment for prostate cancer. He was preparing his funeral plan while his wife Jan said it was more important to 'live.' Seize the day! They went out and bought motor bikes and, between treatments, travel all over the country. Just the way it should be! I mentioned to Haydn on the way home that was what life is about.

It really has been the most amazing day. And, at pensioner rates. It is now 11.21pm and I am feeling very tired. I really hope, when I look at this tomorrow, it makes sense.

May your days be blessed and your lives fulfilled.

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



I am Deeply Touched

Raymond is gone, so to is my headache.

As I climbed out of bed, after 5 days beside my beloved husband, I was very conscious of the fact that my headache had miraculously disappeared. It was now time to think about funeral arrangements. I called David Carty [Principal of St Mary's School] to ask the name of the Catholic Funeral Director. I was given the name Adrian Quain, although David suggested he would be more than happy to call Adrian on my behalf; I was happy to go along with that.

When Adrian knocked at the door I greeted him with a handshake. My Mother, sister Toni, brother-in-law Brian, and Lea Shelley were with me as I answered questions and spoke of Ray's battle with cancer. I found myself being asked about personal finances. It was necessary for me to talk openly and honestly; Adrian was probably trying to work out where the money was coming from to bury Ray. I explained that life savings had been used, particularly in the last 4 years, with our relocation from Lakes Entrance to Warners Bay. Ray had felt very strongly about being closer to his ageing Mother so we had made the move after selling the Squash and Fitness Centre. I also mentioned the fact that Damian worked beside Ray in any role that Ray undertook in an effort to keep the family budget in the black. After Ray's neuro surgery, I assumed the responsibility of managing the finances. I also failed frequently. Very quickly it became apparent to me that keeping the bank balance in the black is not easy, particularly with  medical expenses on the increase. Damian was a champion and contributed wholeheartedly, working side-by-side in all roles we undertook to keep the wolf from the door. He made a great assistant at Kumon, and the children loved him. 

Although I had previously arranged for Toni to take over with the arrangements in the event of my not feeling up to it, I found my love for Raymond overflowing making all things possible. I was determined to do everything in my power to have the mass celebrating his life a tribute to this extraordinary man.. The children loved and respected their Dad and I wanted that to shine through. It was important for others to feel that love.

The shock came at the end of my time with Adrian as I walked him to the door. He apparently realised that money was short and he told me that I was not to worry about the account; it would be taken care of. Of course, dummy that I am, found myself crying. How could I not feel deeply touched that a funeral director, unknown to me before this day, was offering to take care of costs? I did say that would not be necessary. That is a story for another day.

Megan arrived later in the day from Lakes Entrance.I asked permission to read the following verse at Ray's funeral.  Meg has an amazing ability to write verse and it comes straight from the heart.. I remember the day it arrived; I was out. Ray was heartbroken that he was unable to read it on his own. There had obviously been more of a deterioration than I had realised. We sat together, I read, we both cried. Thank you Megan for providing such joy and for allowing me to use your words at Dad's Funeral Mass.

With life the way it is today

some things so hard to bear

there are some things I'd like to say

that with you I'd like to share

I think of you so often

you're set so deeply in my heart

there's things I wish to thank you for

but I don't know where to start

Thank you Dad for having me

and blessing me with your soul

Your kindness, love, faith and strength

are things I now do hold

I thank you for the time you've spent

with me day by day

and all the things you've said and done

that guide me on my way

And for being there beside me

through the good times and the bad

and for feeling for me with your heart

when I'm feeling kind of sad

There's nothing I need ever ask

to make my dreams come true

for dreams consist of life itself

and life's what gets us through

Because you are a special man

I feel so special too

the world that I hold in my hand

is a part of you

Written by Megan Radford (b.1972)

 just weeks before her beloved father lost his battle with cancer.

Read by Cheryl Radford at the funeral

Something on my Mind

This afternoon I made a quick call to my daughter Megan. I am so glad I did. I had a question that needed answering, and I knew she was the one to ask.

When I met Ray in 1966 our courtship did not take the 'normal' path. I quickly realised this man was very special. We had known each other only a short while when Ray proposed. When he asked my Mother's permission she immediately said 'NO.' She accused Ray of being an alcoholic and, reminded him that I was only 18 years of age. Far too young, in her opinion. Ray was transferred to Tamworth  in the New England region of New South Wales shortly after. We missed each other dreadfully; the time apart dragged on for both of us.  The only way for us to get to know each other was by writing letters. There were no mobile phones, and public telephone boxes did not lend themselves to 'chatting' on the phone.

Consequently, I have an enormous box of hand written letters. Although I have lived in many homes over the years I have carried this box faithfully with me. I am not normally a hoarder, however there are some 'personal' things  I have treasured. Mum did agree to our marriage. I believe she got sick of Ray arriving in Dubbo from Tamworth and bringing with him a weeks washing and ironing. He continued to live the life of a bachelor, playing rugby and socialising with mates, while I did his washing and ironing, ready for him to leave first thing Monday morning. I was 19 when we married.

Ray, as Zone Manager for International Harvester Company, was on the road. Letters became the norm. Having carried the letters for over 40 years, I am now beginning to sort through personal things and nominate where they are to go. I asked Megan if she was interested in having the letters. I was a little surprised, and thrilled, by her reply. She definitely wanted these 'treasures' as she has wonderful memories of life in a family that epitomises 'perfect' love.

I must admit that, at the time of Ray's death in 1994, I reflected on my many years of marriage to this amazing man and I realised that I had enjoyed 27 years of unconditional love. Who could ask for more?

Megan, thank you for this beautiful compliment. I am so glad that we  were able to provide a loving, secure environment for your growth, leaving you with wonderful memories.

A Little Bit of This & A Little Bit of That

A big 'Thank You' for your response to my previous post. Definitely a case of 'a problem shared is a problem halved.' I remember being told as a Social Science student that my talking was my thinking. I suppose that I have simply replaced the 'talking' with 'blogging.' What a difference a week makes!

Last week I had an appointment at the John Hunter Hospital Physical Therapies department. I was under the impression that it was for assessment by the Occupational Therapist. I was not quite right! In actual fact I saw Jeanette, and whether she was a physio or OT is irrelevant. Together, we went through some testing to see exactly where I stood with my right hand. On a scale of 0 - 5 [5 being the best] I was 5 in some areas. Unfortunately, when I was bad I was very, very bad. There is absolutely NO strength in the grip of my right hand. My index finger is almost straight, with absolutely no bend. My little finger bends spontaneously and is almost impossible to straighten. The idea is to use exercise in the hope that I may eventually regain some use as the nerves regenerate. Apparently this happens at approximately 1millimetre per day [I think that is the figure] What I do know is that there are lots of millimetres in the length of my arm.

Jeanette shared with me that her first thoughts, on reading the referral from the doctor were that, 'this is not good.' When I walked in that changed to, 'this is not to bad.'  Saying goodbye, she was convinced that there was 'HOPE.' I will hold onto that! How I would love to 'once again' be able to touch type and even to write again, using my right hand. I do not make a good left hander.

Had an enjoyable lunch on Saturday with Group 33, which is the Breast Cancer Support Group that I have the honour and privilege to share my journey with. Not sure when I bought my digital camera but I have faithfully taken photos at each of our monthly luncheons. Unfortunately, the girls had never been given copies of the prints. On Saturday the situation was rectified when I handed out dozens of prints to the 12 in attendance. Problem was that I left in a hurry as Haydn was waiting and I did not get to take photographs on the day. I believe it will be the first luncheon that no pics were taken. Such a shame as we had lots of laughs as we noted the changes with individuals always at a different stage with hairstyles. No doubt, chemo and radiotherapy show up in the hair.

I had also purchased cute, pink, knitted bears with the breast cancer ribbon attached. These I handed out, and it was decided we would use them as Christmas tree decorations. There was only one problem! I did not have one for myself, so cannot even show you how cute they are. Hoping to be able to order another one for me.

The other thing that is of interest to me at the moment is the possible use of using hyperbaric chamber therapy. The problem being that I have absolutely no idea where this thought came from. Or indeed, how I go about getting my doctor to warm to the idea. As with all things cancer, I like to have the blessing of the doctors on my 'team.' I suspect I have heard somewhere of the benefits of using it in some way as a cancer therapy and also for radiation burns along with lymphoedema. Now, doesn't that sound interesting?

Have just put the last log on the fire for the night, and finished a ginger tea. Guess it is time to say 'goodnight' one and all.

Love and gratitude

He is Special!

I had an appointment to see Dr Milton Sales yesterday.

Some months ago there was a hiccup in the bookings at the doctor's surgery. I was inadvertently booked with a doctor that I had been seeing for over ten years. I had asked to see another doctor because my original doctor had told me, on more than one occasion, that this cancer was going to kill me sooner rather than later. I felt therefore, that he was not at all interested in treating me for other issues. On one occasion he suggested the 'other' problem was the least of my worries.

There must have been a level of distress that showed. Maybe it was because I whimpered 'I cannot see Dr ?' The receptionist immediately sensed a problem and suggested she would solve it. When she approached me some 5 minutes later she asked 'Would you mind if I put you in with Dr Milton Sales' My reaction? I quickly replied that I felt like a star on a Christmas tree. I knew that Dr Sales' books had been closed for many years. He has a wonderful reputation in the Lake Macquarie region.

Dr Sales appeared to be genuinely interested in my case. This is not uncommon due to the nature of the recurrence; it is quite complex. Cancer in the brachial plexus appears to be quite rare. There has to be some PLUS in all of this. I was very happy with the consult. I was even happier when I went to pay the bill and was told that I had been Bulk Billed. Normally, I would pay $68 and then claim my Medicare rebate of just over $30. This represents a huge saving for me as an oncology patient.

While on the subject of savings, I am immensely grateful to the imaging facilities that also have a policy of Bulk Billing oncology patients. This represents a HUGE saving. Last year I had a CAT Scan along with a Bone Scan. The cost was over $900 and I received just over $400 from Medicare. Once again, a huge out of pocket expense.

So. As a way of saying 'Thank you for making a difference' I called into the florist and had them make up a bunch of iris with golden yellow gerberas in appreciation. I really wanted this very special doctor to feel my gratitude.