16. The ties that bind

I’ve been worried about I ever since we got back from holiday. She didn’t really try to discuss the cancer with me and I tried not to worry her. It concerns me that she’s so far away and that she may have no one to talk to about things.


So. I’ve been texting her. Tried to phone her yesterday but she said she was napping. Up to her if she doesn’t want to talk I guess. I thought it was best to stay in touch though, just in case.

Called S (aka the surrogate) to get his opinion, which was to call. Had a really nice chat. Who’dve thought, he’d turn out to be such as great friend? He made me laugh so hard I started to wet myself. Good friend indeed, Tena Lady notwithstanding.

So again, I phoned. 40 mins of stressy nagging. She thinks I’m downplaying the cancer, which I suppose I am. Not that I’ve withheld any details. I’ve just tried to spare her my 4am fears. I think though, this has sent her in the opposite direction. She’s been searching online and seems to have picked up random incorrect information. Such as I can’t have sex while having chemo and radio therapy. Which MAY be a problem for women having treatment for cancer somewhere in the lower abdomen, but which the sites say isn’t an issue for women with breast cancer. She also thinks I’m being stupid, not asking the doctor the right questions. Maybe. But I’ve asked MY questions.

ANYWAY, I’d had enough of our high stress conversation so called time on it. 2 minutes later (I found it 30 mins later) on Facebook, a long rambling status update, which included a statement about her mother having cancer. Talk about a slap in the face. It’s MY cancer. Yes it affects her and yes I’m happy for her to talk to others about it but not a blanket announcement.

So what I need to do now I think is distance myself from her a little bit. It is REALLY FUCKING hard keeping myself bobbing along on the surface, making sure my mood doesn’t slip too low, without being dragged under the waves by others, even if the other is my child. Harsh maybe, but also a survival necessity I think.



UPDATE

Didn’t mention this to R because frankly I didn’t want to hear about it. Went into work this morning, had a fairly productive day AFTER I’d got IT to unblock my access, borrowed a key to get through doors I no longer have a key to (given it to the supply teacher), found a working printer and waded my way through the mess in my room.

On the way home I was actually feeling quite good. I stopped off, posted ALL the kids coursework back to them (£12 of postage!) AND returned some of the dresses I’d ordered from mail order (don’t know why people do it. So much hassle returning them).

I stopped and got a drink and drove home the rest of the way, loud music on, speeding (come on, I’ve got cancer, surely fate isn’t going to toss a car crash in too?) and feeling that lovely buoyant mood brought on by productiveness, independence and clement weather. R was in when I got back, which was nice UNTIL he mentioned the Facebook thing. And went on. And on. My mood was slipping; I could feel it leaving the room. So I did too. Anti-social? Yes. Do I care? Do I fuck. 30 minutes reading started it on the upward slope again, thank goodness. God, is it really too much to ask that people consider what they say, just temporarily?