Tis I the Fluff

9 monthes!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RcYv5x6gZTA

Today marks the 364th day of my mothers death. According to the old wives tales you need a year and a day to grieve. That way you get all the "first" anniversaries out of the way. Yeaaah.

Truthfully I cannot believe almost a year has past since she left. The time between her getting sick, getting diagnosed and ultimately passing away was four months. A whirlwind of sickness and death. The days after felt so long as my mind caught up with what had happened. There is so so much care involved in someone so sick making sure they are comfortable,clean, that the pill scheduale is adhered to (of utmost importance when its pain relief we are talking about)not to mention entertaining them, knowing when they need company, knowing when to shoo the ever present visitors away, the many many many questions to ask of social workers, hospice nurses, community nurses. We did this for less then a week but it was one of the most exhausting stressful miserable periods in my life. With that comes the guilt. It was my mother not some stranger I should feel blessed that we had the time with her, to look after her. Instead all I feel is a bitterness, that life is so unfair, that hideous cancers still have no cure. Most of all I am incredibly angry at god. Furious. Not because she got sick but because of all the cancers out there she got this one. This one that is hard to diagnose until its too late, this one where the only treatments involved are a huge surgery if it is diagnosed in time or palliative care to preserve quality of life in the remaining time they have left. Which more often then not is less then a year.

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So I read the news about Patrick Swayze and while I feel terrible for him and his family and hope with all my heart there is a happy ending I can't help but feel pancreatic cancer is finally, finally being shown for the agressive, life sucking, terrible disease that it is. The cloth of mystery has been thrown off and due to a high profile actor this cancer is being seen for what it is. I posted an entry last year after my mother had been given her diagnosis. I remember when the doctor broke the news thinking, surely chemotherapy might cure her. I'm grimly chuckling in my head how naive I was. Most times this cancer is not detected early enough because the pancreas are located so deep in the body. Problems only arise when patients complain of secondary illnesses. By then the cancer has usually spread to other organs and treatment is that much harder, more aggressive and ultimately less successful.

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I'm very good at giving decorating advice to my friends. From bathrooms to kitchen floors to how to fill that awkward corner I rock. Decorating my own place (living room)however not so much. Mainly because I actually have to live with it. Which makes me very indesicive about everything from the wall colour to rugs to picking a sofa. Actually I picked my wall colour a lovely yellowy cream (description of colour isn't my strong point shh). I painted it and was admiring my work when my friend said "what about a feature wall"? What I have to pick another colour now?!?! It makes sense though, the room is oddly shaped and a feature wall would make it more uniform. But I'm baffled as to what colour to paint it. Whatever colour I choose I'll have to live with it. For a while I was thinking gold...GOLD! Then I though perhaps that might start to give me a headache after oooooohh about five minutes (the walls are quite tall and large)so something in the neuteral palette? Which means another trip to the paint store and another headache (paint fumes = headache). Joy.

Next up is flooring, picking a sofa and debating wheter or not to get a flat screen tv.

Control yourselves, its about to get WILD.


In other news I have a trip to the doc on Monday. My usual twice yearly visit to get refill prescriptions. I'm debating wheter or not to say anything about the way I've been feeling lately. Sleep is once again a thing of the past. Teariness at the drop of a hat? Check. Inability to watch anything on tv involving death/cancer/funerals/the elderly without shedding tears? Check. Short fuse? Check. Feeling immensely insecure and avoiding dealing with people face to face where possible so I don't have to put my happy face on? Check. Achey jaw from clenching when sad/angry/tired? Check. I'm worried that if I say all this the doctor will just gaze sympathetically and murmur something about it being part of the grieving process. Oooh that'll make me feel better. Worse still it might be the doc who was Mam's doc when she got sick. He's a lovely guy and very thorough and I know her type of cancer is extremely difficult to diagnose in its early stages. I know all this and yet I'd be lying if I said I didn't harbour any resentment towards him. Hopefully it will all pass quickly and it will be a case of hi hows you? Fine! Canyougivememyrefillspleaseandthanksmmkaybye. Sigh. Back to the decorating.

Dear Mam,

Another month gone. I hate the days passing because it take us a little further away from when you were alive. The disbelief is still there, the momentary pause when I open the front door expecting to hear the t.v. or your cd’s and it all comes crashing back what’s happened.

Memories are starting to enter my head. Of when you were well. Just small things. Like that time we were in Maureen’s and it was a gorgeous summer day like today and you were taking her washing off the line. You stayed in the sun a little too long and when you came back inside and looked in the mirror you saw the tip of your nose had burnt and exploded with laughter. You said you looked like a snowman on holidays. Or how you liked to buy cheap slippers because then you could cut the front bits off them so your toes could breath and you could wiggle them. Or how you always had to turn the flashing timer off the stove because it annoyed you so much.

Those memories bring tears to my eyes but they are happy tears. I’m glad you are my Mam. I’m not going to speak in the past tense and say you were my Mam. You always will be my Mam even if you’re not in this world any more. I picked out your memorial card today. I hope you like it. The photo of you is from when you went to Scotland with your sisters. It’s a picture of you sitting on the boat on the top deck. You looked so excited and happy! As much of a home bird as you were you loved your holidays, particularly with your sisters. You could kick back and relax knowing Dad wasn’t looking over your shoulder moaning about how much you had to drink!

I hope your doing that now. I hope with all my heart you’re living the highlife and having a blast. We’ll be fine if we know you are fine.

I love you.
AnneMarie

p.s That prayer I sent you, please look over her. No one deserves to go through what you went through. Thanks Ma..

The death certificate came on Friday. It was an odd feeling looking at it - her life reduced to the most vital statistics. Date of Birth, Date of Death, Occupation, address she was born at, who registered the death, who signed the death notice, what she died of, how long she was sick. The last bit the how long she was sick bit, the cert said four months. Cause of death was pancreatic cancer. What she died of was brain damage due to her heart attack. However I suppose she was so weak from the cancer it put a strain on her heart which it couldn't take. However she was diagnosed with cancer March 15th. She died April 8th. A little less then four months don't you think? Unless it was dated from her first gp visit where she complained of the pain in her side which was in January. That would be four months. Its all a bit confusing and god forbid the bureaucrats make it any easier by sending a FAQ sheet with the cert!

It was a bit of a low day today. My cousins son made his communion and myself and Dad went. We sat through the mass (in irish couldn't understand a word!) took the required photos and went to lunch with the family. Through it, all I could think of was how much she would have enjoyed it. She loved the family shindigs, sitting down and catching up, having a bit too much to drink, oohing and aahing over the kids outfits. Her sisters were there and I noticed one of them has eyes the exact shade of blue that Mam had. Funny I never really noticed Mams eyes til the last day in the hospital when her glasses were off. She was in a coma but due to the brain damage she was twitching and moving around and her eyes would flutter open. Her eyes were the blue colour of the sky before a storm hits. The pale blue tinged with grey colour. Needless to say for the rest of the afternoon I could hardly take my eyes off her sister. We made our way home and I went straight to bed.

I was supposed to go out tonight but just couldn't bring myself to get in the going out frame of mind. I texted P and let her know. It was kinda short notice and I don't think she was very happy. I think she would have been less happy had I of gone with the mood I'm in. I try not to be bitchy I really do but she met a guy last night (as did I but more on that in another entry) that she had hooked up with last week. She texted him but he never replied. So she gave him another chance last night and he texted her today. Here comes the bitchy part. I just don't want to hear her gushing on and on about him. She has been with two of his mates. She wants a boyfriend. I think if any man had of shown her attention last week she probably would have hooked up with them. So excuse me for not wanting to hear that this is the real thing, that you are mad about him. He's thirty and fully admits he hasn't had a proper relationship in ten years. There could be a perfectly good reason but don't you think you should find out what it is before you go making the big declarations? She's going out with him tomorrow so no doubt she will be texting me all day to discuss what she should wear. What jewellery. What hairstyle. You get my drift.

Gah this moving on stuff is hard. Plain and simple I just don't want to hear about other peoples happiness and new relationships when I'm miserable. I looked up Irelands cancer foundation website. Do you know how many references I found to pancreatic cancer? One. One entry came up when I searched and that was for some doctors conference. Look up prostrate or breast cancer and its hard to wade through the many many entries but pancreatic cancer? One. It astounds me that this particular form of cancer, this cancer that has a ninety eight per cent mortality rate should only have one entry. Maybe its just not fashionable to have pancreatic cancer?

To end on a better written note please check out http://snickollet.blogspot.com. She lost her husband to pancreatic cancer a few days after my Mam passed. She writes with eloquence and beauty about stuff that nobody should have to go through.

...from one day to another. Thats what its felt like. I have never felt more exhausted then I have this week. Each day seems to be getting worse. Today was the funeral. Mam was laid to rest in a place about 15 minutes drive from the house. The mass was lovely. The priest was a doll. He had two meetings with us and helped us with the readings and asked for a few memories of Mam to include in his sermon. It was very thoughtful. The whole way through this I have been helped by the well wishes of our neighbours, friends, family etc. People who I don't know have called to the house to express their condolences usually dropping in sandwiches, cake etc. Its sweet but at the same time hard.

We saw Mam at the funeral home on Tuesday. It was just my Dad and I at that viewing. We couldn't get over how well she looked. They had dressed her in the clothes I provided, the same clothes I bought her for mothers day, the same clothes she wore last monday when she came home from the hospital. They had put her jewllery on. Her earrings, even her watch. I had included her glasses and her cigarettes in the bag and they were clasped in her hands. She looked more at peace then the day she died. Her hair had been blow dried and they even gave her her cheeky grin back. Her colour was back. Towards the end she had gone very grey and her ears had turned blue. She had her usual pinky glow back. She looked like she was sleeping. As if she was about to wake up and ask what we were staring at. It was lovely to see her looking well again. Like she wasn't sick anymore. The only difference was when I went to give her a kiss she was icy cold. She hated the cold.

Wednesday was the removal. Dad and I got up to the funeral home and her sisters and nieces were waiting there. The were amazed at how well she looked too. The priest came and said a few short prayers. After that we said goodbye to her for the last time. It was so so hard as they put the lid on. I am never going to see her again. That was the last time ever. We got to the church and all the well wishers were there waiting for us. As they brought Mam in to the church the bells were ringing welcoming her. This was the closest she got to being home. Some more prayers and the sermon ended. A line formed to shake myself and Dads hands. So many people had turned out to pay their respects. I was touched. People who I haven't seen in years, people who I work with, people who I used to work with, friends, family, neighbours etc. It was very overwhelming. A small amount of family came back to the house for tea and Dad took down the wedding albumn plus Mams albumn from her younger days. I hadn't seen it in quite a while and it was great to look at her in her younger days, when she hadn't a care in the world.

Today was the funeral. It was a lovely sunny day like the day she died. Seeing them lower the coffin into the ground was very tough. I hate to think of her by herself in a box in a damp field surrounded by strangers. That she's not going to come home ever again. Her chair is empty. The calender in her room is set to the 8th the day she passed. There are reminders of her all over the house. I found a picture this morning taken last year at a family party. It was before she got sick. Mam always was a little overweight but she looked so happy in this picture. Full of life. To see her at the end...well its hard to reconcile the two images. Her notes are scattered all over the house in her distinctive writing. Nothing meaningful just shopping lists, phone numbers etc. but still..Just when I think the wound is healing, like maybe a thin veneer is forming something comes along and rips it away. Today it came in the form of her sister saying she would help me with mums clothes next week. I hadn't even thought about that. I know it makes no sense to have them around. That constant reminders probably aren't a good thing but itjust felt like she was trying to wipe her from our memories. I got angry but remembered she's only offering this because she wants to help. She wants to ease our pain. Her baby sister is dead and she wants to keep the family together.

I thought we would have longer with her then 6 days.

Apologies for the slight delay but this entry is now brought to you courtesy of my new home broadband! Wooooooooooooooooooooooo! I don't know how I ever coped with dial up. Plus thanks to Ireland still being a god fearing country I'm off until Tuesday. Four. Whole. Days. To sleep. Bliss.

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It was a tough day today. We had a meeting with the palliative care nurse and a social worker. Both were wonderful and able to answer all our questions. Dad is going back tommorow to meet with them again. So far it's been the subordinates, the people who have to go check with their bosses who have been the most helpful. The bosses on the other hand...not so much. When Dad had taken Mam down to have her cigarette I spoke to the social worker and when I had finished up with her I was a little upset. Not at her rather what we were discussing like how when Mam deteriorates more she might need someone to help her wash and dress etc. Its brings home just how little time she might have left y'know.

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Thank you, I wish you all were here to hug me too.

I went to work yesterday and told my boss. Being a cancer survivor* himself he understood a bit of whats been going on. He told me to take as much time off as I needed and gave me his cell number if I'm not going to be in so I don't have to go through the switch. He also offered to let me go home then and there if I wanted. I decided not to. I have a feeling that work is going to become a bit of a refuge for me. I was able to concentrate on the job and it helped shut my thoughts up. I told one other person in work who suspected but thats it. I don't think I want to tell everyone in work. They would be lovely about it of course but I couldn't handle people asking me how my Mam is every day. I told my four closest girlfriends and a neighbour who is friendly with Mam. It's harder telling people - it brings it all back plus you almost have to console them. Everyone but my boss has said stuff along the lines of "well they come up with new treatments everyday" etc etc. I then have to gently point out that yes they do however the cancer has spread quite a bit and because my Mam is so weak an aggressive treatment like chemo is probably not going to happen, thats its about making her happy and keeping her pain free for as long as possible. Thats when they realise that we aren't looking for a cure and the consoling part comes in. A part of me feels really guilty about that. The not looking for a cure. I know, its silly.

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