MY LIFE VS. CANCER | Based on a true story E-Book

B. L. Publishing

• Herausgeber: epubli
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Deutsch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Seitenzahl: 89

Beschreibung

I don't really want to do this, but I feel I should, not sure why, just a feeling. I have to type, to get the thoughts out of my head. They are going through my head so quickly it hurts, I am getting a headache. I am crying as I type, my face is completely wet. I feel strange, cold but slightly sweaty. I feel weak, low in my strength. My face is hot. My hands are shaking, I can't control them, they seem not to be mine. My head is bursting, with tears, with shouts. Two hours ago; "Any chance that you might take out the stitches today?" I asked. "No, not today, you see, the results of the biopsy from the tumour are back." The surgeon had never called it a tumour before, it had always been called a lump. I did not say anything, I just looked at his face and waited for him to speak again. "It is called a sarcoma, it was 7.5cm in diameter, that is very big for a sarcoma. It was poorly differentiated, which means it had begun to split. It is a particularly angry type of sarcoma." Still, I sat there, I had no words. My wife was beside me, she was equally silent. The Book is a wakeup call to couples and families whose lives have been decimated by disease. It seeks to bridge the emotional gap that too often isolates citizens of sickness from their spouses, families, and friends.

Leseprobe

MY LIFE VS. CANCER | Based on a true story

E-BookAbout the AuthorMy Life vs. CancerImpressum

E-Book

MY LIFE VS. CANCER

Based on a true story

All Rights reserved

2021

About the Author

„I have been a self-publisher since 2019 and have specialized in writing for several years. The most important thing if you want to learn new things and get better is to stay tuned. In order for this to work, it takes curiosity and fun. Again, this requires that you dare not be perfect. For me, everything revolves around you, readers. Each of us has a unique story to tell. With self-publishing it was possible to leave a footprint. Only for your own family or for the entire reader market. I hope you enjoy my books.“

I don't really want to do this, but I feel I should, not sure why, just a feeling. I have to type, to get the thoughts out of my head. They are going through my head so quickly it hurts, I am getting a headache. I am crying as I type, my face is completely wet. I feel strange, cold but slightly sweaty. I feel weak, low in my strength. My face is hot. My hands are shaking, I can't control them, they seem not to be mine. My head is bursting, with tears, with shouts.

Two hours ago; “Any chance that you might take out the stitches today?” I asked.

“No, not today, you see, the results of the biopsy from the tumour are back.” The surgeon had never called it a tumour before, it had always been called a lump. I did not say anything, I just looked at his face and waited for him to speak again.

“It is called a sarcoma, it was 7.5cm in diameter, that is very big for a sarcoma. It was poorly differentiated, which means it had begun to split. It is a particularly angry type of sarcoma.”

Still, I sat there, I had no words. My wife was beside me, she was equally silent.

He continued speaking. “With your permission, I would like to operate on you again. We need to get in and take away all surrounding tissue and anything else that we can remove, after that we will be very aggressive with your treatment, we have a chance of beating this”…

He paused, “you are both very quiet, I realise that this is a lot to take in. What I propose is that you both go home, take tomorrow to talk and think together, then come in to see me the following morning and we can go through all of this in more detail.”

My body was there but my mind was about 2 feet above me, it was looking down on the situation. The thoughts of what he had just said were filtering through my head.

• What is a sarcoma?

• How was it angry?

• What does poorly differentiated mean?

I went to speak, but nothing came out, I opened my mouth but it bagan to quiver slightly, I could not say what it was I was trying to say. I tried again,

“Is it cancer?” I had to almost whisper it.

“Yes”

“Will I need chemo and radiation?”

“Lets get over the first part first. I took the liberty of booking you a bed in the hospital. I want to operate on you as soon as possible. When we have done that we will talk about the treatments. But right now, I want the two of you to go home. I am after giving you both the most terrible news and it will take some time for it to sink in.”

So I stood up, said thank you, shook his hand, walked towards the door.

I managed to get through the door before I felt the ground start to pull me towards it. I saw a chair and almost fell into it.

I began breathing in a sobbing cry. The doctor brought us into an office and let us sit there in peace. His secretary brought me in a cup of water.

I drank it and felt a bit better, I got control of my emotions.

Then someone asked me something, but again I could not speak. Every time I went to open my mouth I could feel my voice box close up and breathing became difficult.

The surgeon came back into us after a few minutes.

“You’re very upset, that is completely understandable, but try to understand, we have a good chance of beating this, you need to be positive, you need to stay strong.”

What I wanted to say to him was that I clearly remembered my Mum going through the operations, the chemo, the radiotherapy, and within 18 months I finally watched her die. But when I opened my mouth what came out was more like “blubber blubber”…

Myself and my wife walked out of the hospital. Got into the car. Began the drive home. I am now home, sitting at my laptop, my wife has gone to collect our girls from her sisters. I am 41 and I have a wonderful wife and two amazing daughters (10 & 13). I am at a loss. I have no control. I have potentially no future. I might die much sooner than I thought. But it is not like being hit by a train, it is much slower than that. I don't feel ill. I don't feel any different. Nothing has changed. Only the words of my doctor…

I had a lump growing in my leg for about 5 months. It got bigger and bigger and I had it removed 2 weeks ago. Today I was to go and get my stitches removed, but I saw the surgeon first and he gave me the bad news. So, I sit here typing these words about 2 hours after receiving the news that I have cancer… I have cancer… I have cancer...

If I say it enough it does not sound so strange. My wife and I are the best of friends. I feel so sorry for her, because it is as if she has cancer too. We are like two peas in a pod and what one has the other suffers from. So I feel really bad for her, she does not have cancer but her husband does and she is only 39. My Mum died from cancer about 15 years ago, so my automatic thought of cancer was of death. But as the day passed I thought of my Aunt in Canada, she has been winning the cancer battle for nearly 30 years. I always think of this particular Aunt in a very special way, she is a genuine, kind and truly wonderful lady, but now I also understand that the word brave needs to be added to my thoughts when I think of her. I am crying too much to type properly, the tears are stinging my eyes, my kids will be home from school soon and I do not want them to see that I have been crying, so I have to stop this and come back to it later tonight.

The girls are in bed now. We could not tell them. There is a show that my eldest is performing in, we don't want to ruin it on her by telling her I have cancer. So we decide to wait until after the last show which is only 4 days away. To be honest, I physically could not use the words… “I have cancer” …to either of my little ladies. It would be too much, I know I would break down crying.

When my girls arrived home I had just washed my face to try and remove some of the red puffiness from crying. I smiled when I saw them, not a forced smile to cover up my true feelings, but a smile from the heart as I was emotionally thrilled to see them. Having them there made it so much easier to believe that things were the way they were that morning when they went off to school.

“Did you get your stitches taken out?” asked one of my girls.

It had not dawned on me that they might ask that. It was the only reason I was at the hospital that day was to get the stitches out.

“No, not yet” I said.

“Why not?” was the reply, “because the doctor wants to look into the leg again in the next few days, he said there was no point taking out the stitches today as he will have to do it again in a few days” I said. “OK, whats for dinner?”

The thought of telling my family that I had cancer was just too much for me. My wife kindly told my sister and my father. It was not easy for her to do it, I know I should have been ‘more of a man’ and done it myself, but I just could not do it, physically I was unable. I don’t remember anything about the rest of that evening. I have no recollection of us all sitting down together for dinner, although I know we did. I have no memory of watching tv that evening, although I know I did. I don’t remember going to bed, but I know I did. Two weeks ago I had a 'lump' removed from my leg, everyone had said 'it is nothing to worry about', my GP said it when I saw him, my surgeon said it when he saw the lump. But by the time the lump was removed it had grown to 7.5 cm and it is my fault that I did not have it removed sooner, I delayed, I put off going to the doctors, I put off going to the specialist, I put off the operation to have it removed. Today I was to have the stitches removed after 2 weeks, I was not expecting to get any results of the biopsy, I was oblivious to the turmoil that the meeting would have. It is no longer called a lump, it is called a tumour.

First morning with cancer…

I did not have a great nights sleep, it took me a while to fall asleep. I woke several times during the night, but it has been like that for the past two weeks due to the operation to remove the lump… So, I woke quite early, my wife was in the middle of getting dressed, my first thought was to ask her if she was alright, she looked sad. Then I began to remember yesterday. I can’t believe it was not my first thought. When everyone had left the house I did not know what to do. I stood in the kitchen for a while. What to do, what to do, what to do. Then I remembered I had ordered a new oven to be delivered this morning. Work to do, so off I went doing the things that needed to be done.

Since then, my wife came home early. Collected girls from school. Finished wiring in the new oven. My head is all over the place. I am going to be fine. I have cancer. I could die real soon. I could leave a wonderful wife and daughters behind. The thought of telling them I have cancer is awful, but we are going to have to tell them, soon. But the thought of seeing them loose their Dad really scares me. I have to keep brave, I have to stay strong, but I don’t feel brave or strong, in fact I feel weak. Sometimes I feel like I am going to faint because the thoughts going through my head are so fast that I cannot keep up with them.

As I sit here, it is late, everyone is in bed. I need to get some of the thoughts out. I am finding it difficult to keep focused right now. I keep thinking how my girls will be when I die. I am worried about my wife when I die. I have been so selfish in my thinking, I must not think of me, my cancer, I must think of my wife and two girls. The need me, I must fight this cancer…

Today I was thinking of my Mum.