So, we get given the news that nobody wants to hear, and quite frankly nobody really expects to hear, we got dealt the cancer card!
I say we because it becomes very apparent at this stage that it isn't just me that gets cancer, yes I was the one that went through the physical stuff (and I am not taking away from the severity of that) but my husband, the kids, our parents, siblings and all our closest friends went through every step with me, suffering when I did, and doing their best to lift me when I needed.
Telling my parents was one of the toughest things to do, I can still remember telling them we need to skype and the look on their faces when I said that shit C word. Mum said (as all mums would) "oh hunni, are you okay?" and dad (as you could expect him to say!) "Well of course she's not alright hun, jesus!" That was probably the best response, it kind of made me smile. Within a day or so they were on their way to Sydney to get on a flight to live with us for as long as we needed, an open ended ticket transporting my two guardian angels!
Telling Marks folks wasn't much easier, but Mark's mum's nursing side soon kicked in and she was trying to find every known solution to 'fix' me, speaking with all the medical team she had around her for their advice, opinions etc, because "nothing was going to take their Heid's"
I say they were the toughest to tell, but only because I knew it would break them to have one of their children suffering, but honestly telling anyone was bloody hard for me. I used to feel so so sad having to tell anyone, funnily enough, not worried about what I was about to go through but because I knew it would upset them and they would be worried about me (and most friends and family lived oceans away). I didn't want anyone worrying about me!! Probably because A) I had always been the go to girl to help fix problems, a good ear to listen/shoulder to cry on, hence why I am a nurse!! and B) Once a woman becomes a mother they seem to loose all ability to give a shit about themselves above anyone else (especially their babies!)
Bizarre thought process to have right? Maybe to some, but for me it was self preservation, it was holding onto that familiar part of myself which was the carer, in this time of chaotic unknowns!
I think this is something anyone going through a tough time will resonate with, a basic human necessity is comfort, we always feel safest when we feel comfortable, even if sometimes the thing that makes us feel comfortable isn't good for us, we still feel better when its with us. Examples: A mother of a newborn who really needs to have a sleep when her baby has one, but instead wants to feel like she is still in control of her 'normal' life, so runs around cleaning, doing washing or even entertaining friends. This isn't what she needs, nor is it what is best for her, but she does it non the less because it makes her feel comfortable! The problem with this behaviour is that soon enough the energy runs out, she becomes exhausted, she looses all control and life seems in a spin. (Yes, this is something I experienced) I repeat the process again when I am diagnosed (and now in hindsight) all the way through my treatment. I take the process on as if its something that is happening to someone else, I cant deal with all the what if's, I have babies and a husband, the what if's petrify me. So I remain the carer.....worry about others worrying about me! That works.....right?? Well, for a little while at least.
Thinking back when I was telling my sisters and close friends I don't even think I cried, I was just very matter of fact and kept saying, "It's alright, don't cry, I'm going to be fine, I've got this". I didn't feel sad as such, just in self preservation mode, a mode where I held everything at arms length so as to not get too overwhelmed. I then started making Mark tell people, or I would email people as I couldn't bear hearing anyone else's sorrow over the phone. I even got all my football family to come over for morning tea so I could tell them all at once, because I couldn't bear doing it individually.
I did cry then.....that was tough, all their beautiful faces looking up at me with dis belief and all wanting to fix me! They were some of the strongest support that got me through that time and they may not know it, so now they can realise, that the little gestures or hugs, food and books all helped.
When your overwhelmed sometimes the gestures that seem the smallest to you, may just be the most important to the one struggling. This was probably one of the only times I cried, that was before I actually started treatment.
It was about time to put my game face on....... Heidi takes a metaphorical seat and nurse Heidi jumps up! Right Biatch going by the name of Cancer, throw what you got at me I'm about to start swinging....HARD!
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