The fragility of life
I don’t usually write when I’m struggling with my emotions, as I don’t feel inspired to be creative, but today I am using my blog as a way to share my feelings and express my sadness, as I am hoping it might help to tap it all out on my iPad as I sit here on the flight back to Istanbul.
It’s been a very very tough few weeks – starting with Mum being so ill, and being carted off to hospital in an ambulance – she was crying as the ambulance took her away, and I tried to hold back my tears, as I didn’t want her to see them and be more frightened than she already was. But I was terrified, and as soon as the ambulance had gone, I sobbed, along with Emma and Daisy, as I thought I had lost my Mother; that I might not see her again.
The funny thing was that I had this very strong feeling that I needed to come back between Easter and our flight booked at the end of June. When we returned to Istanbul after Easter, I was worried that both Mum and Thomas looked so much more frail and tired than when we had seen them at Christmas, and so when we got an email, suggesting Daisy came to a pre-assessment day at Bedales, I knew that was the excuse I needed to book a flight home.
Thank goodness for that, because as the weeks in April progressed, Mum became more ill and Thomas more wobbly, so that by the time Daisy and I arrived two weeks ago, Mum had been diagnosed with Giant Cell Arteritis, and prescribed huge douses of steroids. Unfortunately the massive impact of those steroids on Mums immune system resulted in shingles, making her very ill, and hence off to hospital.
However, with the help of the intravenous antiviral medicine for the shingles, Mum started to make good progress – she is still not well, though, and has terrible headaches, and has been left rather confused from the weeks of illness.
But all the time, as Mum was recovering in hospital, we had Thomas’ hospital appointment hanging over us. He had been experiencing increased right side weakness since Christmas, but in his infinite wisdom(!), had chosen not to share this information, as he didn’t want to worry Mum, what with her being so unwell most of the time. By the time he started losing his balance after Easter, he made a doctors appointment, who of course referred him to the hospital. However, during the time that I was there, Thomas became less steady on his feet, and so it was not a surprise to find his aesophageal cancer had spread to his brain – in fact, as I went to the hospital appointment with him, and therefore saw the brain scan, there are two tumours on the left side of his brain which have caused significant swelling, and hence the right-sided weakness.
Maybe not a surprise, but nonetheless a massive shock, a terrible shock – the unimaginable happening – we are going to lose our beloved Thomas to the cancer. We are not sure what the prognosis is until he has his oncology appointment, but our minds all rushed ahead with terrible thoughts – would he be around for Christmas this year? Where would we have his funeral? What about his ashes? How will Mum survive without him?
He of course is being his most amazing self – stoical, pragmatic, realistic and taking it in stride – after all, as he said, he is 78, he’s had a good innings, in fact a fantastic life. He and Mum have had 35 wonderful years together – how many people find true love for 35 years?
Thomas has been such an important and integral part of my life, coming into it when I was 15 so with me for most of my life – always there, always Thomas.
Mum came home from hospital on Friday – they wanted to keep her in another few days for the IV treatment, but having broken the most terrible news to her, we couldn’t leave her in the hospital on her own so brought her home, so that she and Thomas could at least be together, in their sadness and worry, interspersed with wonderful moments of reminiscing about the beautiful life they have had together.
I feel terrible leaving everybody today, as I know I am needed to help them get through the next days, but I am going back to Istanbul for a short time to regroup with my little family and hopefully to gather the strength I am going to need to get through the coming weeks and months.
As I sad my final goodbyes before leaving last night, Thomas took me aside, and pointed out a good spot he had earmarked for the marquee for the party he will not be at – you have to smile!
