UP, UP AND AWAY

Ok Dad I apologise in advance for swearing, but 2014 has been a shit year. And while it's true you need to focus on the good and the positive, no matter what angle I look at it from, it's also true that this has been a positively shit year.

 To add to the general shittiness of it all, today is the 8th December, my 6th cancer anniversary. While the hurt is no longer as great as it once was and a general acceptance of what happened has settled in, the date always brings out the " what ifs".

What if that had been a normal day?

What if I never had a breast cancer diagnosis ?

What if I still had both breasts instead of these uncomfortable lumps of saline rubber?

What if...?

What if...?

What if...?

I swore back on the 8th December 2008 that on my anniversaries I would always do something special to reclaim that date. I've never failed and in the four anniversaries to date have celebrated with friends, had special dinners with family and one year I even had a luxurious spa treatment.

And today in keeping with the promise, I am writing this, kilometres up in the sky en route to the island of Bali. Just me and the husband ... no kids...for the first time in an eternity...22 years to be exact.

I'm out of practice. I don't know how to travel without the girls and I may or may not have shed a tear as we took off. Don't laugh. It's anxiety at its best.

What if something goes wrong?

What if someone gets sick?

What if someone has an accident?

What if our house gets broken into?

" Then we come back" says the husband. " Its only three and a half hours away".

So, Bali it is.

And because men know EVERYTHING, someone now has no deodorant and sunscreen.

And because I'm married to someone who sincerely believes that nothing can get done without a cup of tea and food first, we were running late.

And we argued at duty free.

And there was a queue for the toilets.

But nothing matters, because we're finally on the bloody plane where for the record tea, coffee and toasted sandwiches can be bought....cheaper! Oh the surprise of it all! 

And it doesn't matter because in a few hours I'll be lying by the pool sipping a cocktail. I'll be the one next to the sunburnt, deodorant less man so come say hello.

Till next time...xxx

*** MISS CIARA***

Being a Mum is the best gift I have ever received. For those of you only getting to know me recently, I am a Mum to two beautiful young women, whom I lovingly call the favourite eldest daughter (FED) and the favourite youngest daughter ( FYD). Yes they have names, but this way they always get to be my favourite!

Much has been written about the FED. Her story has spread to all parts of the world. But it's been a while ( probably a whole year since she finished school), since I've written about my other gal.

Introducing Miss Ciara, my little bundle of joy.  My talented, determined, headstrong, comical, loud bundle of joy. My favourite youngest daughter ( FYD).

This week the FYD reaches a milestone when she graduates from her year long intensive acting course. It's a huge achievement and one that has been completed against a backdrop of the most gut wrenching situations ever. In fact this backdrop has been going on for a while now. Agents, if you're looking for a determined, hardworking girl who soldiers on regardless, she's the one!

Let's back track.

She started high school with her Mum fighting breast cancer and finished high school five years later with her sister fighting for her life. In between the start and end of high school, family drama continued. I had four major surgeries and countless minor ones. Despite her Mum being frequently away ( which is hard for a young girl), she just kept plodding on, excelling in so many areas. Here are some of my favourite memories.

• She and her friend Nadene formed a singing duo that became well known in the Midwest, performing at various functions. They even performed as the support act for a band called Dragon, which if you're Australian you will know are music royalty.
• She is not only a talented singer/ actor but a talented dancer. I have spent hours driving her to and from lessons, sewing on sequins and sitting through rehearsals. But it was always worth it to see her on stage having a ball!
• She was Calamity Jane in the school musical in her last year of high school. This performance left everyone in no doubt that she was ACTUALLY Calamity herself in a previous life.

Thank God for the memories!

This week she graduates from the Actors Hub, Gap course which has taught her to push through barriers and continue to be the best possible actor she can be. There have been some spine tingling performances this year and also ones which have made me laugh out loud and wonder who this super talented woman on stage is.

And then I remember...and pinch the husband's hand to remind him...it's our daughter! There up on stage is the kid who:

• Ran away from home ( for half an hour) and lived near her Dads ute. She had a change of underwear and her teddy in a small bag.
• Would not do swimming lessons because she didn't like boy teachers.
• Would not wear dresses because they were too girly! 
• Cooked marshmallows in the inside potbelly stove with another naughty friend...cos they could.
• Tied the dog leash to a small table and then wondered why the aquarium on top came flying off.
• Sent a hotel staff into disarray looking for a lost teddy.
• Travelled around Europe at the age of 17

I could go on for ever!

This year has been the hardest, but amidst all the tragedy of a sick sister and the loss of a much loved cousin, she has managed to stay true to herself and push forward. She continues to aim high and ( I know it sounds corny) reach for the stars.

Congratulations sweetheart. 

May God bless you always and guide you to whatever is next.

Till next time...xxx ( have a look at the link below!)

https://www.facebook.com/actressciarataylor?pnref=storyCIARA

ABOUT TIME WE HAD SOME FUN!!!

This weekend my family will be guests at the Midwest Charity begins at Home ball. To say that we are all excited is an understatement. Actually its the women in this family who are excited. I'm not sure the husband will give it much thought till half an hour before he needs to throw on his suit! Men are so lucky!

I haven't been to a ball since 1985 - 29 years ago! It was a Science Union ball at university and I remember it clearly because my mother made me a beautiful ball dress, which she was still sewing while my friends were waiting for me outside! It was such a stunning  blue colour but I paired it (ruined it?) with black wrist gloves...why did I do that ???? What was I thinking!!!!

The dress, the gloves and an old friend who WILL forgive me for posting this...I hope !

Anyway, its now 2014 and as my mother no longer makes me clothes, I had to have someone else make something for me. It is so beautiful that I would actually be happy to just look at it rather than wear it.I'm seriously out of practice at this sort of stuff. You don't need to look too special while you're at home or wandering around a hospital. But the girls and I have been talking shoes, hair and makeup and the excitement is contagious. Its been a while since anything got us excited and its nice to know that for a while we're going to have fun and not think of doctors, hospitals and brain surgeries!

 The Midwest Charity begins at Home team fundraise continuously to support people like my daughter who are going through serious medical stuff. Last year when we had gone from two incomes to one, times were tough! It costs a serious amount of money to continually travel up and down the coast and those petrol costs never get cheaper!

Then there are medical costs, living in the city costs, hospital parking and bills, bills, bills!

When the girls at Midwest Charity begins at Home heard about our girl's plight they came through with some money to help her and us. Apart from everything I just mentioned, it also meant our daughter could take a short holiday when things were getting her down and to catch up with friends when she was well enough. Remember, she has been unable to work for most of the last 16 months and having no income limited what she could do. The sponsorship helped her a great deal to feel a bit normal...so important!
.
Thank you to everyone who works so hard in this charity. You are just fabulous and we are all so grateful!


 SATURDAY - BALL DAY

SUNDAY

 What a great night surrounded by some of the most generous people I have ever met. A whole load of money was raised for people who need it in our community. And as if they hadn't done enough. the FED ( favourite eldest daughter) was given a huge hamper of goodies and gifts. Plus she got a photo with a man who inspires her, Peter Fitzsimons, the compere of the night!

She is overwhelmed!
As are we all.

Lots of love and till next time...xxx

WE'RE NOT WAITING FOR ANYONE!

I simply refuse to believe that Christmas is four weeks away! But no amount of burying my head in the sand will change the fact that the need to feel festive is once again upon us. At the risk of sounding like Scrooge, grumble, grumble...haven't we just had one?

Obviously not, if the shops are anything to go by.

But let's backtrack a wee bit before getting too immersed in all things Christmas. You may remember in my daughter's last procedure we had a hiccup. We had thyroidgate! Honestly there we were happy in the misguided notion that we were getting somewhere, when suddenly we got a left hook out of nowhere.

Nodules on the thyroid.
Nodules on the thyroid which need investigating.
Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Do not complete destruction of fistula and head directly to endocrinology instead.
You are allowed to swear - I did.

A week later this was followed by a biopsy and a few days later a phone call from Dr HS to tell us the biopsy was benign. He actually emailed us at 8.30pm with the news. I'm presuming that's when he got it himself and I'm polishing his doctor of the year badge as we speak, because he didn't leave us waiting till the endocrinology consult another week later.

Of course we still had to go to a meeting with the thyroid doctor and work out if she was going to require  surgery or not.

The land of endocrinology lies in the previously unchartered E block of the hospital. It took a full five minutes to walk there from the neurology unit, down a dowdy, dark corridor that erupted into a giant waiting room. Luckily we weren't kept waiting for long today. Not that I minded. The nurse on duty was most entertaining bellowing from one side of the room to the other.

And the verdict is....no surgery for now and more monitoring in twelve months. The young doctor finished by saying it would take roughly two weeks for the report to reach Dr HS. Remember...it took us five minutes to walk here from the neuro unit but it would take two weeks for the report to electronically walk back! Am I the only one who has a problem with this?

So, my ever sensible daughter has made a decision. She's not hanging about waiting for doctors. She's going back to work and she has ordered her father and me to take the holiday we had planned to take. When the paper work has trekked down the corridor, we will regroup and recommence. At this rate we're guessing it could be in the New Year!

No other option really but it is so hard to go on holidays and Christmas shop while this is all unresolved. It's not a little problem, it's a big problem and the impatient part of me ( most of me) does not deal well with waiting under these circumstances.

And don't tell me it's character building because I will hunt you down and go all Scrooge and nasty on you!

Bring on the Christmas shopping!

Till next time...xxx

REALLY MR LATHAM? SIGH

Its really true isn't it that some people only open their mouth to change feet.

I'm convinced its true after reading what an ex (thank goodness) Australian politician has been spouting today. Not to give the dropkick any oxygen I am posting a link to a response from journalist Mia Freedman, from website Mamamia.

Please read what she has to say first. Round of applause to Ms Freedman.

http://www.mamamia.com.au/wellbeing/mark-latham-column/

Disgusted? Read on. If you're not disgusted, then I'm sorry for you, because in 2014 nobody should have to defend his or herself against such misinformed dribble.

If you asked ME, Mr Latham, how I got through the last few years, my answer would be almost exactly the same as Ms Pryor. The only difference is I would have said, caffeine, antidepressants, chocolate and the odd bourbon. I would probably have added that staying away from comments like yours, which are only designed to humiliate and embarrass would have been occurring simultaneously. I have long learned to encircle myself with people who raise me up not those whose mission it is to bring myself and others down.

Yes, like Ms Pryor, I too have children. Why do people like me have children in the first place? Let me answer that with another question. Why do sufferers of foot in mouth disease like yourself have them? I'm sure the anger and hurt that this article will generate will harm your children more than mine ever have been in their lives. So, why do YOU have children when its so flipping obvious you suffer from chronic foot in mouth disease? How will your children fare when they find out the trouble Dad has stirred up...just because he can!

Here's the bit that gets me the most!  Occurring to Mr Latham, people who take antidepressants are copping out on their responsibilities and that staying home with my children should have been my antidepressant. He also says that popping pills is cowardly and being used as an easy way out, instead of facing up to the responsibilities of adulthood.

Mr Latham, I am 48 and have faced more drama and trauma than you ever will in your life. And Im glad for you because I don't want anyone to go through what Ive been through.

Rather than copping out on my resposibilities, I actually faced them by seeking help when I knew there was a problem. Thats called being responsible not irresponsible. It means that I can function better on this earth and yes...if we're talking about being a better parent, it means that too. Without help from people who understand my condition, I would have simply retreated into my shell, not given my kids the attention they got and probably never attended assemblies, rosters, dance displays and the myriad of other things parents face daily. Sorry to disappoint you Mr Latham but women who seek help are acknowledging they have resposibilities and doing whatever they can to meet them.

Next...please take your head out of the fairytale you are reading and look me in my eyes and tell me with sincerity, that staying home with my children ALL THE TIME should be my antidepressant. Are you for real???

All humans need to be social . Read up on Maslow's hierarchy of needs if you dont know what I mean. They need to mix with their own people. They need to feel useful, use their brains, solve problems etc etc etc. It can't always be with their children. My experience of this is that mothers groups drove me batty. I needed stimulation that did not involve nappies and formula and sleep, all the time. I went back to work part time and bingo in just a couple of days, I felt better about myself.

But you know what I mean...cos you stayed home with your kids.Right? Or was it your wife?

I met a man in the school staff room one day who reprimanded me for doing relief teaching and leaving my kids with a babysitter. He told me that my first duty was to be with my children not the children of others. He essentially told me what you are saying today; that I am a disgrace of a parent and copping out on my responsibilities. He also ( bless him) told me the best part of his day was when he got home and he could smell the cake his wife had baked for him. (Are you feeling guilty yet?)! He could no doubt also hear the joyous, excited voices of his angelic children as they rushed to bring him his slippers and mop his hard worked brow.

Give me a break!

Thumbs down to the Australian Financial Review for printing such a hurtful, innaccurate load of cock a doodle doo. What the hell?

Thumbs down to anyone who thinks that seeking help for mental health issues is a cop out.Quit judging if you're one of these people and seek help immediately for your ego.

Thumbs up for parents who are responsible enough to seek help which enables them to do a better job raising their children. Hopefully if we do a good enough job ( while on medication of course), our children will never disrespect women in the manner they have been today.

Till next time...xxx

GIVE A GIRL AN ICECREAM!!!

There are so many things that could have flattened me in the last 12 months but all it actually took was the common cold.

Now, I could tell you about the sniffles and dribbles, the coughing up of lungs, the cracked nose and lips and the mountain of tissues. But I'll spare you the details and fill you in about the week instead. 

You may recall that one of my daughter's fistula procedures was cut short because the doctor found nodules on her thyroid which needed investigating. Well, that's been done and we expect some results in the next week or so. Nothing more can be done on fistula number 2 till the agenda of the thyroid is determined. Really, really frustrating stuff I can tell you, especially since fistula number 2 is in need of the demolition it's big brother got.

So once again we wait.

I should be an expert at this by now, but yesterday it all finally got to me. What got to me? Take your pick...

• Waiting  (has never been my forte).
• The possibility of something else being wrong.
•  The wasted time when the doctors could be working in fistula 2.
• The fact that my husband has to return to work and I am dealing with this essentially alone.
• The distance to my home and my bed, which is all I want at the moment with this bloody cold.
• The possibility of having to cancel a much needed week away that the husband and I have planned and paid for.
• Icecream

Yes, icecream! Feeling down in the dumps I decided to treat myself to an icecream and to drive the necessary distance to purchase the type I wanted. On arrival, the machine was out of order and no icecream was available for sale. Of course!!!

And of course that was the final straw - not the fistula, not the thyroid, not the lumps, not the head cold from hell but THE ICECREAM.

I may have shed a few tears...or a few litres of tears...down the phone to the husband. Enough is enough God. Give a girl an icecream!!!

Laughs aside for a minute.

I love sharing our story with you all and you will never fully understand how this blog and your comments have kept my head continuously above water. Without this blog in the last 15 months I would quite literally have gone insane.

If you read this blog through Twitter or Google plus there is no problem. However, if you read it through the CHRONICLES OF A LUMPY PERSON page on facebook (as most of you do), there is a problem. Unless you like and/ or share a post every so often , I am unlikely to remain in your news feed. To give you an example- I have 551 followers on my facebook page but only 40 % at the MOST are being shown the posts. It's very frustrating!

 Please help me get my story out without having to pay the money Facebook requires.

The girls and I have just been to see a movie together. It's the first time in ages that the three of us have been able to do something together socially and it felt good being with my girls. One has finished uni for the year. The other is almost done with her acting course. In what continues to be an annus horribilis, it is good to do something " normal" together. It's been a while!

Till next time...xxx

PS: Remember - those on the facebook page need to like and/ or share.

THE POWER OF BACON

It's been a while since I wrote a story. This is mostly factual and yes...I'm Emma. I just wanted to be someone other than myself for a moment.

THE POWER OF BACON

Emma reached for her latte and sipped the hot, milky liquid as she gazed over the sparkling Indian Ocean. It was a beautiful day despite a little chill still in the air. It obviously wasn't quite summer yet unless of course you owned a wetsuit, in which case it was summer all year long.

The arrival of food stopped her rambling thoughts. Luckily for her it was still breakfast time and she could get a bacon and egg sandwich.As usual in times of stress she reverted to the " bacon fixes everything" notion, held by everyone in her family from nanna downwards. Broke up with someone?Smashed your car? Lost your job? Bacon was her family's version of a Maccas run...a piggy bandaid that fixed all.

But bacon wasn't going to fix the problems Emma had and she knew it. No amount of yummy piggy was going to help find out what was wrong with her daughter or make her feel better about what was going on. Tomorrow would come whether she ate bacon or not.

Tomorrow was a test. Another test on top of the hundreds of tests her daughter had already had...in a new area...in her thyroid gland. Emma choked back the sobs. She hated seeing what her daughter was going through and hated feeling that in some way this was her fault. Her fault because unbeknown to her at the time, she had passed on a faulty gene.

The bacon was delicious, not too salty and not too crunchy. If only her life would take a leaf out of bacon's book and be not too complicated, she thought to herself.

Below the cafe window, the wetsuit wearing few had ventured into the water with their boards. It was quite the sight and one she never tired of. She wondered how her daughter was feeling and if she really understood what a biopsy entailed. Memories of her own two biopsies long forgotten were suddenly crystal clear once more, as was the surgery which followed.

" You don't have thyroid cancer" said the doctor gruffly, two weeks later. " You look disappointed", he continued.

Instant relief merged quickly with a type of anger she had never experienced before. Her husband felt it too and held onto her hand tightly.

Even now years later Emma felt her shackles rise. What sort of a doctor tells a patient she looks disappointed not to have cancer? What sort of a doctor confuses a bewildered look with a disappointed look. She had convinced herself it was cancer like her sister had. She certainly wasn't disappointed to be wrong...just bewildered why she had been let off and her sister hadn't.

But she hadn't really been let off had she , because seven years later the word thyroid had resurfaced. Just like the word nodule had resurfaced. Just like the statistics had resurfaced. Except this time...it was her daughter's turn and she could do nothing but look bewildered once more and experience emotional pain far greater than her own situation had ever given her.

The bacon was finished and the latte dregs had turned cold. Emma reached to her neck and followed the large incision that told the world she was thyroid less. She remembered how ignorant people had said she tried to take her own life. She remembered how they laughed when they found out they were wrong and how they told the story anyway.

The surfers returned to shore as Emma paid for her late breakfast and walked to her car. She willed the nodule on her young daughters neck to be benign, to be not important, to be much ado about nothing, to be a storm in a teacup. She willed the experience to be over and done with and for her daughter's doctor to be kind in soul and spirit.

There was only one other thing she could do. She would make her daughter bacon and eggs for breakfast. Nanna would have approved.

THE END