|
JAYNE WITH A WHY |
|
|
. : Recent Posts : .
L.O.V.E. . : Archives : .
January 2006 . : On My Perch at Night, I'm Reading A Book On My Kindle: .
|
. : motley assortment of blogs from other parts of the multiverse : .
. : MY FAMILY MOTTO: FUCK 'EM ALL EXCEPT US: .
. : Credits : .
Template By Caz . : email: spadgesmum at gmail dot com .
|
|||||
Tuesday, September 17, 2024NEW LIFE Last day of August 2024 (buckle up, get that cuppa & put everything on hold, cos this ain't a short story!) Well, well, well..... I've been away for a few years & so much has happened. I'm in the throes of a new life, which is taking a bit of getting used to. I've had enough pain, drama & anxiety over the past 5yrs to last a lifetime. I reached the lowest point some 6mths ago & had everything in place to finish what I perceived to be my miserable existence. I genuinely felt I wasn't strong enough to carry on. *sigh* It appears The Gawds felt differently & intervened, by means of my son & sisterbylaw. Fast forward & here I am, blessed to have people who love me, a great counsellor/therapist & a sense of humour, which is slowly recovering. A quick synopsis of what's gone off in the past 5yrs or so...... In 2019 a joint decision was made to leave South Africa permanently. It wasn't an easy decision to make, but politics, the steady decline of the infrastructure of the country & corruption were all contributing factors when the decision was eventually made. So we left. And resettled in a village in S. Yorkshire, England. (I'd always said I'd never live in Nigeria or the UK again. I've now proved I can never say "never!" again.) Shortly after arriving, we had the first 'lockdown' due to Covid. Our 2 dogs - Tappit & Batshit - were stuck in SA as all flights had stopped. It took 9 long months to get them to us & I'm forever grateful to their surrogate family for the care & love they were given during the separation. During the initial lockdown, Hubs couldn't travel to work - at the time, Dar-es-Salaam - so he worked on renovating the little house we'd bought. With limited funds, we transformed one room at a time, taking it from the 1970's decor to present day. We started the process of making a 'deceased estate house' into our forever home. In 2021 I noticed my left leg was swollen & no amount of treatment or medication helped. After numerous tests & hospital visits, I was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. There's no denying it came as quite a shock. A programme for chemotherapy was established & it didn't take long for me to feel I'd taken a short cut to hell. In between chemo sessions, I'd be hospitalised for a couple of days at a time, due to a really bad magnesium deficiency. I'd just start to feel like a proper human again & it'd be time for another round of chemo.   It was a shit time & that's actually quite an understatement! The doctors & nursing staff at Doncaster Royal Infirmary - specifically the Chatsfield Suite - truly were awesome in every way. Nothing was ever too much trouble & they always took the time to listen to every patient undergoing chemo, should they want or need to talk. My veins didn't particularly like being punctured & many times, it would take up to 5 attempts in both of my hands & arms to get a line in. Eventually I had a PICC line (peripherally inserted central catheter) which made life much easier. The side effects from the chemo were fucking awful; vomiting, constipation, horrendous mouth ulcers, numbness in my fingers, loss of the senses of taste & smell, to name but a few. I was very lucky as my hair thinned considerably, but didn't fall out. I had several bandanas at the ready, but never really needed them. During the months when I was having chemo, we were lucky enough to get a contractor to pave the whole of the front garden. Christ, just writing about it brings back so many bad memories😧. To cut a long, sordid story short, which ironically still hasn't ended over 2yrs down the line, a neighbour got his knickers in a knot & objected to our paving. This progressed to him trying to intimidate us in various ways & when that failed, he phoned the police, no doubt thinking they would scare us into doing what he wanted. Needless to say, when he was found to be at fault regarding harassment & intimidating tactics, he fell back on his last trick & pulled the racist card. We were from S. Africa, he's black, therefore we're racist. It didn't work. But he won't give up. I'll possibly write more at a later date, but I've said enough for now. I was on my penultimate chemo treatment, when the nagging pain in one of Hubs' shoulders was diagnosed as lung cancer. It came as an almighty shock. He had a PET scan, which showed the cancer had already spread to his bones, liver & lymph nodes. Arrangements were made for him to start chemo & I cancelled my last round, as I needed to be fit enough to look after my partner-in-life of over 45yrs. He thankfully wasn't in too much pain, but the chemo took a lot out of him. He crossed over to immunotherapy after 3 or 4 rounds of chemo & regular blood tests showed he was allegedly doing well. The test results lied. He travelled to Dar-es-Salaam for work, just for one week per month & to this day, I don't know how he had the strength to do it. He lost his beard, which really pissed him off! He wanted to do a couple of things on his Bucket List, so fuck the expense, we fulfilled a few dreams. We went to the USA again, hired a gas guzzling V8 SUV & drove the magnificent Blue Ridge Parkway, from start to finish - all 630 odd miles - in the spectacular fall colours. Our timing was spot on & it genuinely was perfection in every sense. We went to Memphis, saw Graceland (very disappointing), went to Dollywood (so incredibly well organised!) went to Nashville, where I was lucky enough to fulfill my dream of going to the Grand Ole Opry, plus we spent a few days in New Orleans, where we listened to jazz & blues bands & singers whilst sitting in favoured sidewalk cafes & bars. We ate authentic gumbo & both agreed my home cooked version, from the 1955 American Peoples Cookbook was far better than the insipid dish we had in Bourbon Street. Nothing could replace the experience though & that's essentially what we went for. We also did a cruise in Norway, as Hubs wanted to see the Norwegian Fjords. We got to see them, but the chemo was really taking it's toll on him & he was exhausted. We got (yet more!) fridge magnets & both tucked away memories of a very special time. Hubs was just happy he'd managed to see something on his Bucket List, My partner in life & love started losing the ability to walk. Then he lost the ability to use his left hand. A further scan revealed a brain tumour, which was affecting his mobility. Our son managed to get away from his high-pressure job for a week, but with travelling times, it meant he had just 4 days with us. He came with us to an appointment with the neuro-oncologist & it wasn't good news. In a nutshell, Hubs was told he had anything from a few weeks to a couple of months left to live. My incredible partner in life took it all in without complaint. When our son returned to S. Africa, he knew it would be the last time he'd see his dad. Over the next few weeks, Hubs was hospitalised a couple of times. Further scans revealed the brain tumour had multiplied from 1 to 3, then to an indeterminate cluster. Mobility was becoming a serious issue & overall his health was deteriorating rapidly. He hated being in hospital & once discharged, begged me not to ever let him be admitted again, no matter what the emergency was. I agreed. The real blessing was that Hubs didn't have much pain. When it did hit though, his GP made sure he had an ample supply of morphine at hand. As the end drew closer, I feel so horribly guilty by admitting that I couldn't cope by myself. I did my best, but physically, I just couldn't manage. Myself, my bylaws* & my incredibly brave husband decided the best option would be for him to go into a hospice. I don't think I will ever not feel guilty about that decision, even though we all know it was the right thing to do. Our GP made arrangements & within 48hrs, the transfer from home to hospice was made. I won't go into detail, as I'm typing through tears right now.....but my brave, clever, adventurous, amazing partner in life & love of 46yrs years, died peacefully 3 days later.  Dealing with Hubs' death has left a minefield of mixed emotions with me. One of the biggest psychological hurdles I still haven't fully accepted is why did he have to die? I got cancer. I should have died, not him! Why am I still living & breathing, when in my opinion (of myself, which even with therapy, is still low) I have little to offer the world, yet he could have offered so much? Some 18mths later, on dark days, I give myself a mental hiding for thinking it should have been me who died, but I am working through it & can only assume, one day I will accept that maybe, I'm here for a reason. Logistically, certain things were sorted before Hubs died. We sold the Harleys (devastating!) & the car. I've had to sort out alot of things by myself, which has been emotionally draining, but I think I'm finally winning the battle. I spent the first year in a total fucking dwaal** & it wasn't until I reached absolute rock bottom that I got help. My incredible son had alot of issues with his relationship with his dad & I pleaded with him to please get help, which he did, yet I had blinkers on when it came to me needing help. I was handling everything by myself (no I wasn't!) & I was coping alone (no I wasn't!) so why would I need help? I had enough painkillers to to put an end to my misery & I had everything lined up, ready to take the gap & join my partner. The only thing that stopped me was my dog Tappit. What would happen to him? I wasn't heartless enough to have him put to sleep & the thought of him having to be rehomed just did my head in....I couldn't do it. I took a very long, very hard look at myself & I didn't like what I saw. My wonderful sisterbylaw just 'popped in for a cuppa' one Saturday morning, said "How are you doing sweetheart?" & the floodgates opened. I let my pain, my sadness, my anger, my hopelessness all pour out in a very jumbled mess. I talked & talked, I cried & sobbed, because I felt like a failure for not being able to cope with everything. She hugged me & spoke to me in a way that made me feel worthy & indeed, very loved. I will forever in her debt for that day. My son had secretly got in touch with her, explaining he was getting worried about me & without a second thought, she was at my door, telling me to put the kettle on😀. From that day on, I realised I needed help & I got it. It would take months to get help via the (free) NHS, so I bit the bullet & found a private counsellor/therapist. I honestly don't care how much it costs me & trust me, I have very limited financial resources, but what I do care about, is finding 'me' again & learning coping mechanisms that will make my life easier. In a nutshell, all I can say is I'm getting there, slowly but surely, I'm getting there. Both of our beloved dogs - Batshit & Tappit - have crossed the 'rainbow bridge'. Batshit literally shut down whilst both Hubs & I were in Tanzania for a short holiday. Tappit died very recently & I was absolutely devastated. He was my rock during the past 18mths & I miss him so very much. I've had enough death to deal with & I quite simply couldn't handle getting a new canine companion, so for now, it's just me, myself, I. On a more positive note, my wickedly handsome, brilliantly talented son Spadge was awarded Springbok colours for becoming the South African Schools Rugby Coach. I'm beyond proud!   Chikkin....oh, Grangrat's special Chikkin💝! She will be 19 soon - where have the years gone?! She excelled at school & was made a Prefect in her final year. She's now at Stellenbosch University, studying Industrial Psychology. I last saw the family in October last year, when I took Hubs ashes to be scattered at home. I wish I could afford to go back to SA this year, but sadly it's just way too expensive. I'm blessed that I can still video call or send heaps of messages. So there we have it. I have a new life, minus my partner, minus the bikes & minus the dogs, but all is not lost. I have amazing bylaws & the continuing support of some incredibly special friends. I'm learning to laugh again & I'm learning to love myself. I'm making a determined effort to lose weight & have lost 21kg of the self-imposed 35kg target by the end of the year. Oh.....not forgetting, I'll hopefully be blogging again!  * My bylaws - S & T - Hubs sister S & her hubby ** Dwaal - kind of daydream.  
|
