When The Blogging Ends

A sudden loss of optimism came over me the other day. The glass that was always half full had a little leak in it. You get a phone call, and all of a sudden logic leaves you. Your cancer brain takes over as you imagine the worst case scenario. I slept on it, thought it through, and although I still came up with the same conclusions, this time I put things into perspective. There are a host of reasons as to why these extra tests had been requested, and at this moment in time I don’t have a clue as to what these reasons are. By the time I had finished rubbing the sleep out of my eyes on Tuesday morning, the hospital had phoned again, MRI scan booked, next Monday. Despite the concern over the urgency, it’s good that it’s happening so quick. No long wait for the scan. Just a few days, and it will be done. Letter of confirmation in the post. I hate having to wait for the postman, it involves watching This Morning and Bargain Hunt, and I can’t concentrate on anything until I know the postman has either been or passed. I suppose it keeps me fit, bobbing up and down, peering out the window to see if I can see him further up the hill.

The letter duly arrived on Wednesday, a bit more detail. MRI Liver with hepatobiliary contrast – Gulp ! I didn’t realise it was going to be that specific, thought it was just another look at my colon. Well I guess the ‘lesions’ on my liver have turned out to be something more than just lesions, or at least raised enough suspicion for more investigation. Out of all the things that went through my head on Monday, liver was not one of them. It’s going to be a while before I get the results from this new scan, and so I’ll keep the newly mended glass topped up, and make sure those cracks are holding.

Thursday was a day I will cherish for a long time, despite my protestations and attempts at postponing such a meeting, my baby sister made the flight across the Irish sea to meet me. She had flown into Birmingham, stayed at my eldest sister Pat’s house Wednesday night, and they both made the journey up to Manchester on Thursday. We hugged, we laughed, we took the piss out of each other, we looked at old photographs, and I tried to stop her pilfering things from my house. Spare a though for the ever suffering Clive who, as usual made this possible by acting as chauffeur. As we were leaving the house for lunch, I spotted the postman turning the corner, I saw the brown envelope in his hand, I could almost see ‘The Christie’ postmark. Pat jumped out of the car, collected my post, and I opened the letter confirming my date with my surgeon on Thursday next week. I’ll be getting some answers to the ever lengthening list of questions I have.  We continued to lunch, The Church Inn, Uppermill. There are few more scenic settings for a pub lunch, although sadly on this occasion we were nestled in the clouds, denied the spectacular views downwards towards the village, or upwards towards the local landmark, Pots & Pans, high above the Dovestones reservoirs. Lunch was gigantic, conversation was hilarious, and for a couple of hours there was no time to worry about anything other than who was getting the next round.

We returned home, I’m sure far later than Clive would have wished, bearing in mind the impending journey down the M6 to Birmingham, especially with my little sister nagging and moaning in the back seat. Silly photographs, more pilfering and more hugs and it was over. It was great to see little sister looking so well just 18 months after her own cancer nightmare. If I can stay as positive as her, half my battle is won. Lovely to see you Lizzy, and thanks for the lighter 😉 .

It really couldn’t have been a happier day, not even concerned at the lack of internet access whilst we were at lunch. When everyone had left, and the laughter was over, I logged on. The message I received was unexpected, my reaction to the message was equally unexpected. There is an anonymous, yet close, online community of bowel cancer victims. We exchange messages, swap experiences and support each other where we can. There is no better advice than from someone who has already been through the experience you are facing. None of us really know each other, yet we share experiences that no-one else could ever understand. We can talk about things that even the closest of friends wouldn’t dream of. Thoughts and fears that are embedded deep in your head, can be read, comfort and advice is returned with such sincerity that its only found in the closest of relationships. Lisa was one of those anonymous people. Despite being in the final stages of terminal bowel cancer, it was rare that you heard of her ordeal, but she would be the first to offer support to those of us trying to find our way through the early stages of the disease. She was always thinking of others, and if you did hear of her personal life, it was her concern for her two teenage children. The message I received when I logged on, was to advise me of Lisa’s passing away the night before. I couldn’t believe it, it had been a happy day. Lisa had been tweeting just a few nights before. I logged onto her blog, the blog I had read from start to finish, the blog that I had gained so much strength from. She had sent me messages when I had appeared down. Encouraged me when treatment was rough. Inspired me when I was seeking direction. The final entry on Lisa’s blog confirmed what I had been told in the earlier message. I cried for someone I didn’t know, yet I cried for someone who knew me so well. You know the fight is over when the blogging ends. RIP Lisa xxx

Below is the final entry in Lisa’s blog.


Thursday, 9 February 2012

To all friends and family

Sadly, Mum passed away last night. She was at peace and we were with her. Thank you all for supporting her,

Karys & Phoenix



If you have any concerns about bowel cancer, or just want more information or check cancer rates in your area you can find all the information advice and help you need here. www.beatingbowelcancer.org


This entry was posted in Be Clear On Cancer, Be Loud Be Clear, Beating Bowel Cancer, Bowel Cancer, Bowel Cancer UK, Cancer, chemotherapy, Church Inn, Health, Manchester, MRI SCAN, Oldham, radiotherapy, Saddleworth, Uncategorized, Uppermill and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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