This has been bothering me for a while. Telling a cancer patient to be positive. Be positive that you will get violently sick? Be positive that you will be constantly nauseous? Be positive that you will have a headache that no pill helps for? Be positive that you lose feeling in your fingers, which makes working difficult? Be positive that you will be so tired that waking up and staying awake feels impossible? Be positive that you have had surgery that leaves you feeling less than a woman? Be positive that you will lose your hair? That same hair that YOU spend so much time on washing and styling? The hair that makes you want to hide at home when you have a bad hair day?
All that must make a cancer patient feel positive?
Do you sit back and think how much pressure you put on a cancer patient when you say that? It makes it difficult for a cancer patient to admit that she is having a tough day. That she is not feeling so good. It makes that patient feel she has to smile so that no-one tells her to be positive. Even healthy people feel down some days right?
I can tell you that I appreciate it when someone says I am so positive. I am. I mostly feel this is a page in my book and not even worthy of a chapter. I have days where I feel it is a separate book though. I story on it’s own. Where I’m strong, fearful, thankful, angry … all at the same time.
This “be positive” thing didn’t bother me so much when it was just me. Now it’s my mom though. My mom having to go through what I’m going through. My mom having to get chemo to fight a horrible disease. Not flu. Not bronchitis or a broken leg. Cancer. Cancer where you feel so darn well but then end up making yourself sick by going for chemo. No, I don’t expect her to feel positive.
Yes, I get where everyone is coming from. It is always from a good and caring place. Should I see my mom lying in bed for days on end because emotionally she can’t cope, I will get a professional person to help her. I would not tell her to feel positive. I would tell her to be strong.
Yes, being positive makes it easier to cope. It does! If I had to sit in a corner and cry it would kill my kids. It would hurt my parents and Tommie. It would not be good for our family. It would make working difficult and generally life would suck. I know this is why people tell you to be positive. I get that. Please don’t think that I’m not thankful. Again, I know it comes from such a good and caring place.
Just sit back and think how it affects a cancer patient though. Someone who normally does feel positive and thankful for what they have and how “healthy” they actually are. It makes it so difficult to admit that some days are just really crap. That emotionally it feels too much.
I am thankful. Hugely thankful. It could have been so much worse.
Today though, today feels crap. I didn’t want my mom to go through this. I’m proud of her for choosing to give herself every possible chance there is to fight this. She is one strong woman. It’s okay when she’s not as well.
I’m not a hero. Just a normal person, fighting for my life.
I remember when I went for my mammogram and sonar thereafter. I was waiting in the doctor’s office. Alone. I didn’t have to be alone. My mom badly wanted to go with me but I wanted to face it alone. I remember sending my mom a message “The doctor thinks it is cancer”
I cannot image what she must have thought. She wanted to drive to the doctor’s office but I said that I was fine.
I remember going for the biopsy. Alone. I didn’t want anyone else to worry or go through that.
I went back to the doctor when he got the results. Alone.
Again, not because I had to but because I handle tough situations like that.
I was alone when the doctor said he had bad news. That it was cancer. I was calm. Listened to his thoughts and what we needed to do next.
I walked out of his office and saw my dad in the waiting room. We know that lady who works there and he phoned her to hear what the results were.
All of a sudden I wasn’t alone and I didn’t want to be. My daddy was there.
I’m a proud person and I don’t think that is such a good personality trait to have. I needed to see my dad there.
I have since learned that so many people want to be there. So many people want to love me through this.
Tommie takes time of from work to go to appointments with me. The children go way and beyond. My brothers, sisters (in-law). My friends. People who I hardly knew have fast become close friends. People want to help.
They want to love me through this.
I heard this song and cried. My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer about two weeks ago.
I want to love her through this. I understand now how important it is for me to allow others to love me through this.
Mom, I can’t fix this. I can’t make it better. I can’t take it away but I can love you through this.
I have a sweet but also very honest oncologist. She told me exactly how I will feel during chemo and what will happen. For example that my hair will fall out. 10-14 days and my hair will start falling out. I have had long hair for ages. Last time I had short hair was in matric. The boys only know me with long hair. I always joke that “I may be fat but at least I have great hair”. Well, soon, no more. So I made the decision to cut it short and donate my hair to cancer..ironic I know. So today was the day. A day I thought would be emotional though, turned out special. Our hairdresser (aka friend aka angel) has supported and helped me non-stop throughout this while thing. Finally the day came that I was going to cut my hair. We got there and it turned into such a beautiful, emotional, special morning. My mom and I were treated with gifts, flowers, cupcakes, shampagne. The whole works. A toast to us, our path ahead. I wish I had thought of taking a photo. To all our friends there, this meant so much to us. You have no idea. Thank you for your support and prayers. You are amazing.
I have been wanting and meaning to write this for the longest time but I had to wait until a day that I’m not too emotional about it. If I had to write my absolutely true feelings there would be many a swear word and that is just not proper.
My mom and dad are very involved at the SPCA. They are not employed by the SPCA. They do it out of the love for the animals. Love that most of us (including me) don’t understand. We all love our animals. We all take care of them. (Hopefully. I you don’t you are a podex)
They care more. Do more. Most of us sit on Facebook, saying how horrible animal abusers are but do we do anything? Most of us don’t do anything. We just sit and comment and while we DO get upset, we don’t DO anything.
My mom and dad do. They are amazing. My dad does physical work that most young men won’t. My mom is constantly busy trying to find homes for the animals dropped off there to die. They put their money where their mouths are.
Yes, that’s why some people drop them off. The dog is old and they want the dog to be put to sleep. REALLY! Do you really think your 10-year-old dog will be better off in a cage, hoping that you will come back to fetch it and then be put down without you? Really? You must be some kind of special stupid.
Yet, my mom and dad spends time with those dogs. Take them out into the husky run so that they can stretch their legs, feel the sun and get some love.
They are not alone in what they do. You do get others who are angels and help as well but they are extremely few and far between.
I’m thankful that in a small way my children are a part of it as well. They will help over weekends. The homeschoolers go to give them treats of take them out to play. They know each and every dog and it breaks them to pieces when after months and months that dog has to be put to sleep. PTS because a puppy was chosen, instead of him. PTS because his owner didn’t want him anymore. PTS and not knowing what he did wrong. PTS and my children’s hearts break just a little bit more.
But yes, please continue breeding. That R6 000 you make out of your dog every six months must make you feel good. Oh you love your dog so much. You take such good care of your dog. Well, I’m happy for you. Also for your dog but do the maths. In a year’s time there will be 48 dogs. 48 dogs from just one mom in one year. That is IF every bitch has only 3 puppies. Will all of them be loved or will they end up in the shelter because wake up call, they DO end up in the shelter. Pure bred Yorkies, Pekinese, Jack Russel, Labrador, Boerboel….all of them. They end up in a shelter. So YOUR dog may be loved but I can tell you now that along the way one of them will end up at a shelter. Yes, you choose the perfect homes for the puppies of YOUR dog but do those new owners do the same? Or the owners of their dog’s puppies? Stop being so idiotic. Go to the SPCA. Get involved. Have your heart broken and that of those poor innocent dogs and then decided to breed.
I actually wanted to say thanks. Thank you Mom and Dad. Thank you for being the amazing people who you are. Thank you for teaching my children to love just that little bit more than most people do. Thank you for being there for those animals. Thank you for trying so hard to find them new homes.
Just thank you.
You are amazing.
Sorry if you were on the road and saw two white vehicles way over the speed limit. It was us.
After getting a heart-stopping call from my mom with her crying and screaming that she was in, we didn’t know if she was being attacked or fell or cut herself or bleeding to death. We did not know.
We had to get there immediately. That’s all we knew. (I beat Tommie BTW)
It took us two minutes.
My poor mom fell in the bathroom and hit her head against the corner of the wall. Fell on her elbow as well. Stitches in her head and elbow and sore all over.
I’m just glad it wasn’t too serious.
Glad she is okay.
I have often mentioned how lucky my boys are to have my parents as their grandparents.
It is clear from the photos that they are always there. Be it for rugby, cricket, hockey, tennis, choir or awards evenings. They miss nothing.
On Wednesday Jason and I were driving to his cricket game when we spoke about Oupa who is on his way to join us and poor Ouma who can’t due to her excruciating neck pain. We were talking about their support, when Jason said :
You know Mom. They will support anything we do…. Even if our sport was to count grass. Oupa would be “No Jason, that’s a weed! Don’t count it” and Ouma will say “Go Jay, only two thousand to go!”
Is true. They will be there regardless of what they do.
This is an amazing story that should have been told a long long time ago. Now it is with sadness that I do it.
Someone found a little Indian Myna in the street. Probably hit by a car (or so it seems). He/she was still very much just a baby. This person took the little bird under their wing, so to speak.
In time though the little one flew over the wall and just “adopted” my mom. He was free to go where he wanted but preferred to sleep inside the house. Eventually he made a little nest for himself in my mom’s bathroom.
The relationship was so special. He would come and go as he wishes but once every hour of half an hour, he would fly through the house, looking for my mom. He would sit on her arm like a bracelet. She could move her arm and he would just hold on. His food was here, he knew when my mom called Sophie to give him bread. He would fly straight to the kitchen.
My mom loved him and the feeling seemed very much mutual. My mom is such a caring person and he was a part of the family for almost a year. He didn’t like me though and would constantly tell me to “stop it”.
Unfortunately three weeks ago, he went missing. He was still in my mom’s house at 4 pm and just never came back. We don’t know if he was killed or if he is now being kept in a cage.
My mom would be okay with him being dead, since he really did have the perfect life for a year. However if he has to be in a cage, it would kill her (and him) He is used to being free and was petrified of even just being closed in the room.
My mom put flyers up and even advertised in the newspaper. We had some people offering their Indian Myna’s for her to take care of. People worried about Myna’s being kept in cages.
However, my mom got one sms yesterday from Tonie Meiring that was so upsetting. He basically told her that they are pests and he hopes that Piet went back to India with his whole family. That if she had any knowledge of birds, she would now that they kill our own birds.
Well, he just doesn’t get it. It’s not about the fact that it’s an Indian Myna. It’s about the fact that the bird that she loves is now missing. Her knowledge about birds (especially since my dad is involved in bird atlassing) is probably more than his anyway. Still , her ad in the newspaper was not about saving the Myna race but the fact that she was looking for her bird. Regardless of what type.
I sent him an sms (cause no-one will upset my mother like that) and in the end he call me trash. Lovely. For someone who is a DA counsellor that’s pretty sweet.
No-one calls me trash, Tonie. I don’t care how involved you are in the community. You have no regard for someone else’s feeling. She is already upset, no need for you to make it worse.
I was raised with “if you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything.” Maybe you should look into that.