I went to see mum earlier.
My brave, beautiful, strong mum. The lady who doesn’t deserve what the past 5 years have thrown at her.
We looked at each other, hugged, then both burst out crying. I hung on to her frail little body like my life depended on it.
Most days I’m strong. Strong for mum.
I put ‘it’ (mums ill-health) to the back of my mind. I carry on regardless. People think I’m happy go-lucky. Basically I’m coping the only way I know how.
Today however I’m feeling vulnerable.
It’s hard putting a brave face on things all the time.
That said, I refuse this to be a ‘woe is me’ piece.
This is not going to be a tale of misery this is a tale about a lady who refuses to give up and a long running love story .
If there’s one thing I’ve learnt over the past 5 years it is that life is precious.
Positivity breeds positivity .
That we are stronger than we think.
That (cheesy as it might sound) love really does concur all.
My mum was diagnosed with cancer of the womb, like I said 5 years ago.
The treatment has savaged her body. It’s resulted in her having to wear an Urostomy bag and with only 1 kidney. This kidney isn’t upto much, to be honest it’s hardly working. It’s a dud.
3 months ago she started on her next milestone.
Dialysis ( a process that cleans your blood and removes toxins from your body when your kidney is no longer able to do it.)
Things looked a lot brighter. Ok so she was having to visit hospital 3 times a week for her four-hour dialysis sessions but it was worth it.
Boring but essential.
On Friday last week the nurse ‘bumped’ her Fistula (a surgically enlarged vein that provides access to the bloodstream) , her arm swelled to the size of a melon and they couldn’t perform dialysis.
This sent mum into a state of panic. She cried on the nurses.
She was sent home and they reassured her everything would be ok.
On Monday they turned her away again . The fistula had stopped working altogether. It was clotting and beyond repair.
Today she goes back to hospital for emergency surgery .
The thing is once you start dialysis you have to keep it up. Your kidney is no longer strong enough to do its job; the dialysis has taken over.
There is talk of them going through her neck. Basically taking the blood and cleaning it from there. This would mean her having 3 little wires hanging out of the neck permanently.
Yep think about it ladies. Even the least vain of us must shudder at the thought.
We’ve all got our fingers crossed that they can sort it by other means and that this is a last resort . But like I told mum earlier, I’d rather have her here with bloody wires hanging from her neck than not here at all.
She cried… again.
Then there’s my dad.
I think people forget he’s 72, that it’s as hard for him to sit and watch; as helpless as the rest of us.
Mum was the life and soul of the party , always up for a laugh. Always smiling and getting into mischief.
She still is but she’s more cautious. Little things become big things. She’s lost all her confidence. Basically she’s scared.
Dad often confides in me. He like me smiles but his eyes say it all. His eyes are sad.
He tells me he doesn’t understand why she is being put-through all this. I tell him I don’t either.
He says she doesn’t deserve it. I nod in agreement.
He questions how much more she can endure? I shrug my shoulders.
He loves her with all his heart. That’s plain for anybody to see. They’ve got a special bond. They complete each other.
Peggy and Pete.
Mum and dad.
He loves her with all her scars, her wee bag , her dodgy kidney; with wires hanging from her neck.
If there’s one thing I know for certain it is that he loves her unconditionally, through thick and thin, sickness and health… till death do them part.
He would honestly move heaven and earth for her, and then some more. She’s so very unlucky … but at the same time so very lucky. That’s a rare thing.
This man , my dad, has her back no matter what .
He recently said to me “they can chop her and change her all they want but that’s still my Peggy…”
And that …
Well that’s enough for us all to get up and fight another day
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