Hey guys, I know it’s been a while but I’m back again and I’m here to talk about the ‘C’ word. No, not that one, I mean cancer. I know it’s not particularly cheerful but it’s important and I have a point so hang on in there.
I remember when my Dad was diagnosed with cancer. He told me over dinner, not my choice of dinnertime conversation but these things never really have a suitable occasion to be announced. As you would expect, I kinda freaked. Cancer is one of those things that terrifies even the ballsiest of people. Like the monster under the bed, you can’t see it but the mere knowledge of its presence can have you lying awake at night with a severe case of the heeby-jeebies. Suddenly a life without my Dad felt like a possibility. In my adolescent, confused and frankly naïve mind, cancer just meant death. You can understand why, as MacMillan reports that 164,000 people die from cancer every year according to 2015 figures. But the amount I understood about my Dad’s illness was actually very small.
Dad had prostate cancer, which in the grand scheme of undesirable lumps isn’t that bad. 80% of those diagnosed with prostate cancer survive over 10 years, and as he was booked in to have an operation to remove the tumour, his chances were pretty good. Yet, as I said, I was unaware of this. Cancer is one of those taboo subjects. My Gran always said that you shouldn’t discuss religion, politics or chess…she meant sex apparently…but she could have added cancer to that list. People seem to have the impression that if you don’t talk about things then they don’t become real. If you don’t get tested then you don’t have it. This is why charities, like MacMillan, are important. I, luckily, had a family that, whilst sometimes irritating, were pretty stand-up when it came to support. For others, to have someone to talk to that isn’t personally involved and actually knows a whole bunch of stuff about it, is vital. Some things can’t be answered, but to have someone who can take the time to talk, listen, and not cut you off is so needed in times like these. 1.4 million people looked to MacMillan for support in 2016. The majority of those people were those dealing with diagnoses, but carers, family and other affected were also involved. Cancer doesn’t just spread physically, it spreads emotionally as well.
Luckily my dad is alright now, as you may have picked up on in my other blogs, he’s got a habit of scaring us. My uncle, however, was a different story. He got diagnosed with Hodgkin Lymphoma real young when you think you have your whole life ahead of you and everything seems so tantalisingly close and exciting. He couldn’t have kids due to the treatment and I don’t know if you noticed, but to a lot of people, kids are the dream. Well, part of it…until they start pooing and crying and all that. This affected so many relationships for him, as it has and will do for people all over the world.
The second time was worse. I don’t know if you’ve ever been to a hospice but I can safely say that I won’t ever forget it. To sit with someone that you care deeply about, knowing that you can’t make them better, you can’t stop it from happening …just sort of waiting … if someone asks what it’s like you’re left ‘chewing air’. That thing where you try and talk, try to put it into words but every time you open your mouth to say it, you just shut it again. Dads a practical person. When I’m sad or angry or confused, he’s always come up with a solution. He’s a fixer. Sitting in a room that’s inappropriately and yet appropriately deathly silent, with a fixer-man and his brother who can’t be fixed… that can’t be made better. You can put all the bright flowers, gaudy cards and grapes in the world into that quiet, clean room but it doesn’t stop the future being dark. You could put the nurse in a hula skirt, with big clown shoes and an afro…but when she comes and explains that the only thing keeping your loved one alive is the bags of blood dripping into his body, it doesn’t stop the plummet of your heart to your stomach. When that loved one says to stop the drip, and you have to count down the days to say goodbye….that’s when you realise how important charities like MacMillan are. They don’t only help with healthcare and support and finances, they make everyone aware. Because when you were scared of the monster under your bed, you got someone to come check.
Now, I’m sorry if that hit you in the feels but there was a point. A couple of my girls and I have decided to undertake a bit of a charity fundraiser being run by my university. We’re representing three charities, Student Minds, The National Autistic Charity and MacMillan. All of these charities are important and could use your help. So please, please, please, use my GoFundMe page and donate, even if it’s just a pound.
As in need of your support as it gets and as appreciative as it comes.
Over and out.
X
https://www.macmillan.org.uk
https://www.gofundme.com/thn8b-jailbreak
(p.s The picture is of my Dad and Uncle trying to be skater boys back in the day)
AS WHITE GIRL AS IT GETS 