I've mislaid Me, the me with a capital M. The Me that was strong and capable and bloody minded and able to withstand and stare down most things. A counsellor tells me that Me is still here, hidden maybe, or maybe in actual temporary hiding and that the dreadful things that are happening to me are simply too much, that poor old Me is being overwhelmed. The Me that is looking down into what Michael Rosen (an English writer, poet and children's author) calls a Pool of Glum.
To recap:
diagnosis early June, bladder cancer,
cystoscopy, confirmation of diagnosis,
tests and scans and pre op,
operation and biopsy under full anaesthetic,
chemotherapy, one dose,
CT scan with dye,
confusion and head scratching by medical fraternity, (I'll get back to that in a minute),
second cystoscopy
more head scratching,
decision on dates of 6 weeks' chemotherapy settled on, to start last Thursday,
dates of 6 weeks' chemotherapy cancelled.
It's now August.
Second operation and biopsy planned to happen within 4 weeks and the whole bloody rigmarole to start all over again. That is, if I'm lucky and the head scratching leads to a light bulb moment of "aha, so that's what it is". You see it's all the fault of Radiology who should have carried out the CT scan with dye BEFORE the operation, not AFTER. A new operation, more detailed and going deeper, might put an end to the head scratching and clear up the puzzle of what is actually going on.
Luckily, with the exception of a couple of rather offhand and detached Indian nurses, who were more concerned with the procedure they were carrying out than the patient they were treating, everyone is/was very helpful, kind and willing to answer my questions, of which I have many. I may not like the answers but, at least, I am heard. "Yes, not ideal, is it?" said my designated specialist urology nurse. Several times, in one conversation. No, not ideal.
I would like to get back to blogging, purely as therapy. I've always liked writing. I could, of course, write it as a private diary, not publish here, but most of you have been nice and understanding over the years and there is, after all, no need to comment. There are one or two silly little people locally who might feel obliged to gossip (people who actually know me personally). Okay, feel free to do so, or maybe get a life?
A day later:
I had a letter today with the new dates for pre op and op: the operation is to be on Sept 18th, which is also the day for which I have tickets to travel to the Royal Shakespeare Company theatre in Stratford-upon-Avon for a performance of 'Pericles'. Would you call that 'adding insult to injury'? I would.
DEFINITELY adding insult to injury. Holding you in my heart - and please keep writing for as long as it helps.
ReplyDeleteAs with EC, Friko, I'll be holding you in my heart and in my prayers... as you go through this ordeal. They say we are all stronger than we think we are. Hopefully, "they" are right.
ReplyDeleteYes, I would call it that a little **too much**. I hope some outing or event almost as wonderful will present itself to you when you are all done with this bothersome and depressing re-do -- and a good companion to celebrate with as well. I expect to be on a long drive on Sept 18 and I put your surgery into my phone's calendar so I will remember to remind God about you that day. <3
ReplyDeleteIn the meantime, I'm glad to hear that most of the medical staff have treated you like a whole person. I find it hard to bear, when treated like a lump of flesh, or an assemblage of parts. Your complaining shows that the overwhelming pile up of misfortunes hasn't got you completely down. Keep kicking! Thank you for keeping us posted!!!
Friko, I like what Rian said above, "... holding you in my heart and in my prayers." I am doing that too. God bless you and keep you and make His face shine upon you. Jesus is real. I don't know what else to say but call on His name. He loves you and cares for you.
ReplyDelete"Man is stronger than steel". I've heard this from a Holocaust survivor. I've known some of these survivors, who reached 95 and more, despite the horrors of the past. Hope, is what kept them. We should never lose Hope , Frico.
ReplyDeleteOh dear, poor you! Even just half of all that would be enough to make anyone stare into a pool of glum. But I am glad you have chosen to write about it here. Like you, I find writing helps. Writing (along with walking, but then I had no health issues of my own at 41) was what got me through the upsetting times around my husband's death.
ReplyDeleteI'm so pleased to hear from you again with your indefatigable good humour despite all you are going through. It's good that you're being treated by most with honesty and compassion, though someone's knuckles should be rapped for organising things in the wrong order.
ReplyDeleteThe final blow is an insult too far!
seems we've been on the same track this summer though mine started mid May and concludes the end of this month. not cancer but a scary misdiagnosis that resulted in emergency surgery on my femoral artery for a pseudo aneurysm caused by the procedure to rule out the brain aneurysm. all that at the same time medication for afib stopped controlling it and so a medical procedure on my heart. still have one more of those to get me off the blood thinner. so I hold you in good thoughts for the best possible outcome for your own coming surgery.
ReplyDeleteTake one day or minute at a time and focus on being kind to yourself. So sorry you are having to go through Bladder Cancer, My Dad survived Bladder Cancer because he had his bladder removed in 1986...he lived until 2022 with no recurrence.
ReplyDeleteDefinitely adding insult to injury. I know how much you love going to the theatre and that sounds wonderful. They'd better hold that schedule but don't give up your ticket till you know they aren't cancelling. I thought I had been having a horrific medical summer but if it was a contest, you'd have me beaten for sure. I love that you want to return to blogging and I hope you continue and share your story. I think of our blog friends as friends, extended beyond our daily circle but still filled with caring and heart. We have traveled this road with you through many joyful experiences, with Beloved, with your wonderful dogs, with trips to the theatre and times in the garden. Why would we not want to travel THIS road with you, too. I'll be here -- on blog or on email as you wish. Breathe deeply, cry when you need to, laugh when you can, let others do for you as they can. You've got this.
ReplyDeleteOh, Friko....so sorry to hear you have had to go through such an ordeal. Like many others, I've gone a similar route and understand how emotionally and physically draining it usually is. My heart goes out to you and you will be in my thoughts very much on the day of your surgery. All the very best to you. Your dry humor made me smile. I'm grateful that you've that wonderful attitude and shared with us. Hugs from the base of the mini-mountain in Maine.
ReplyDeleteOh Friko ... definitely sod's law - what a d**** nuisance ... there might be one too many or one too few *s there = sorry! Do please keep writing and updating us ... if and when you feel up to it. Sadly we have to cope ... and it's good to read that you are, as far as is possible ... I sincerely hope that for all the faffing and pain and irritation and worry - it all turns out to be easier than you think. I've been thinking about you from down here ... sent with thoughts and a few hugs - Hilary xoxo
ReplyDeleteInsult to injury, indeed! I do hope there will be some other enjoyable event to anticipate after your surgery and recovery. Thank you for keeping us informed. Praying for grace and strength for each day. Losing the ME of you is not surprising given the rigamarole you've been through.
ReplyDeleteI like Gretchen-Joanna's idea of putting your surgery date into my calendar for particular prayer on that day, although I firmly believe that God's idea of time and mine are distinctly different.
So sorry you have to go through all this!
ReplyDeleteDear Friko, Even if your inner ME is a bit worn out, when the only way out is Through, that's the path ahead. Forgive yourself in advance for being brought down due to medical proceedures, interventions and medications. Be as demanding as you must to get your needs met.
ReplyDeleteWishing you the very best Ursula and I would certainly feel very sad if you were to feel it necessary to stop posting on your blog. After 10 years you are only one of three blogs I still follow and love to read. I wish you every good thing lovely lady.
ReplyDeleteSorry to hear of all this..do keep writing your blog..it’ll help you and we need to hear how things are going with you. I wish you the best…hang in there! Mary
ReplyDeleteI too was glad to see you posting but sad to hear the news. I am glad too you are surrounded by Love here in the comments.
ReplyDeletedamn damn cancer. damn damn aging. I'm with you, Friko. I think your current test is patience. You're certainly brave and smart enough. So glad that you're posting. You have friends and fans here. love kj
ReplyDeleteSorry that you are going through this. But the chemo being cancelled, i guess, means, that they could not find cancer tissue? You are in my prayers. Pls do blog more!
ReplyDeleteKeep posting, Friko. We are all with you.
ReplyDeleteSending so much love your way.
ReplyDeletewww.rsrue.blogspot.com
Thinking of you. x
ReplyDeleteInsult to injury for sure! You wait and wait, and then when you have other plans, that is when you find you can’t go because the thing you waited for is suddenly scheduled. I’m so sorry you are going through all of this! I hope you keep writing.
DeleteI used to be on Blogger as “Retired English Teacher,” but now I’m writing on Substack. I will be checking back in to see how you are doing. Take care.