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Showing posts with label Cancer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cancer. Show all posts

Tuesday, 8 March 2016

Just-a-Quote #7... (grief)

I hate this feeling... Like you're here, but you're not. Like you could hold me, but you don't. Like you're somewhere close... faraway, and there is no in-between. Grief. Quote. via mentalillnessgodandme.blogspot.co.uk

"I hate this feeling... Like you're here, but you're not. Like you could hold me, but you don't. Like you're somewhere close... faraway, and there is no in-between." ~ Kimmie

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Thank you for allowing me to share 

God bless you and all those you love

Kimmie x

Related post:
It's not something I'll ever be done with. Grief. Quote. Dad. mentalillnessgodandme.blogspot.co.uk

Thursday, 8 October 2015

A few of my poems (for National Poetry Day)

ON MENTAL ILLNESS...


Feigning Control. mental health. mental illness. poetry. Micro poetry.

Cloaked in Sunny. poetry. Mental health. Mental Illness.


ON SPECIAL NEEDS... 
This Child. Special Needs. Poem

MATTERS OF THE HEART...
Forget me not. Poem. Poetry. Micro Poetry. National Poetry Day.

Whispers of Longing. Poetry. Micro Poetry.

Say it slow. Poetry. Micro Poetry.

Poem. Micro Poetry. 'Stitches'

GRIEF... 
How can you be Gone, Dad

The future is Dadless, I'm not ready for that. ... Grief.

CHILDHOOD MEMORIES... 
From the inside. A few of my poems (for National Poetry Day.)

Echoes in the dark. A few of my poems for National poetry Day.

Thank you for allowing me to share 

God bless you, and all those you love 

Kimmie x
Creative Writing. Poetry. A few of my poems (for National Poetry Day)



Friday, 19 June 2015

A love Letter... A Thank you... & some recycling. (a #1000speak post)

I wanted to (tried to) write something new for #1000speak this month, it's a stunning movement, and one I feel incredibly proud to be a part of; but (as some of you already know) my Dad passed away a few weeks ago, and with Fathers Day just around the corner and my head still so full of missing/wanting/needing Dad; I'm finding it hard to think about (or write about) much else.

However, I did find (whilst surfing 'compassion' on the net, hoping for inspiration) a beautiful 'Love Letter to the World, so beautiful, that I thought (rather than cop out altogether this month) I'd share it with you, dear reader...along with a 'Thank you' (I'll get to that in a bit), and a couple of *Compassion I wrote earlier* links... in case you missed them...:o)

'Love Letter to the World' was originally written by Kate Swoboda and is free to download Here

Enjoy :o)

Love Letter to the World

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Before I get on to the recycling... I'd like to take a moment to say a huge, and heartfelt *Thank you* to all the gorgeous souls who supported me through Dads illness (Cancer), and who've continued to support me over the past few weeks since he passed away.
Losing Dad has been the hardest thing (to date) Iv'e ever had to bear, and you (you all know who you are), have been a Godsend...your kindness, friendship and *compassion*.has helped me (is helping me) to muddle through it.
..  


Thank you X

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The Recycling... 

{Excerpt}... Across the street, now sleeping 
somebody's son dreams hungers dream
Of Yorkshire pud, fish and chips
and mint choc chip ice-cream

somebody's son. 1000 speak for compassion

{Excerpt}... There were no toys in the pram room for the little girl to play with, no cushions for her to snuggle into when she napped fell into an exhausted (scream worn) sleep - no padding to protect her, when out of fear, abandonment, desperation, she smashed her head against the floor... over and over again!

There were no hearers of responders to her screams, no wipes for her tear stained (often blood stained) cheeks, no cuddles for calm.... no attention, no love ...no compassion.
Marie's Voice. 1000 speak for compassion.
I sit down next to her, and imagining that she can see me/hear me, as I can her; I say, "It's okay darling... everything's gonna be okay... Compassion is on her way."
"She'll be here soon - she'll be your voice, and one day (though she doesn't yet know it herself) she'll be your mum.
She will fight for you, care for you, love you....and she'll be with you - always."

Marie's Voice. 1000speak for compassion

If you'd like to read the above Compassion posts in full just click on the titles and whoosh, you'll be gone...................................no wait, come back, there's more... ;o)

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This post is my (I've a muddled mind, but my hearts in the right place) contribution to June's 'One Thousand Voices for compassion' movement - a monthly event to promote and encourage good in the world.

On the 20th of each month bloggers and video-makers from all over the world come together to speak for compassion, in the hope of making a difference. 

#1000speak is a beautiful movement and one I'm proud to be a part of.  :o)

1000 speak for compassion.

"Let ourselves care about strangers, act on behalf of those who are helpless, and encourage everyone we know to do the same." ~ Lizzi Rogers

There are so many #1000speak contributions, from bloggers all over the World... I encourage you to check them out if you get a chance, I'm sure you'll find some that resonate with you. 

You can do that by following @1000speak on Twitter or by checking out the '1000 Voices for Compassion' Face book page Here

#1000SPEAK FOR COMPASSION 
Speaking for GOOD on the 20th of every month

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Thank you as always for allowing me to share 

God bless you, and all those you love 

Kimmie x 

P.S Check this one out... not one of my rambles, but definitely worth a read... because, well... *sugar-mousiness*... what's not to like :o) Sometimes the village needs a little sugar

 

Wednesday, 9 July 2014

The whole truth and nothing but the truth


Early yesterday morning 'body, mind & heart sore' my fingers were itching to do that thing that I do - that thing that has seen me through many mental melt downs, despairing days and sleepless nights.
More often than not when I'm feeling particularly negative I sit on my itchy fingers (I hate dragging others down) but yesterday morning sat in my kitchen (In a borrowed wheelchair) overwhelmed by pain and grief I gave in to the itch and knocked out the following tweet.

I'm going frigging bonkers with sciatica, crying lots, sleeping little, dreaming the weirdest s*** Iv'e ever dreamed and my Dad's gonna die

Almost immediately embarrassment (followed closely by paranoia) set in and if it hadn't been for the kind responses that hit my notifications box within minutes I probably would have deleted *negative&needy* then (as I often do) I would have either stayed away from tweeting altogether or (in response to numerous "how are you"'s) I'd have dressed 'I'M REALLY NOT OKAY' up a bit with something along the lines of  "Been better but muddling through" and then switched the attention back to sender with "How about you?"

Misery condensed into 140 characters can often come across as negative, slightly pathetic or 'just attention seeking' and it's for this reason I usually try and tweet as positive as I can and if I really can't do that refrain from tweeting altogether for a while, It's also the reason I'm so grateful for this *The whole truth and nothing but the truth* blog space I'm rambling away in now.

The truth is that yesterday morning on this side of the screen my bad really did feel as bad as bad can be!
I was incredibly tired - writhing in pain, (and I mean writhing) - and though it's true my Dads not dead yet (he has 6 - 12 months to live according to his oncologist) I was drowning in grief!

Condensed into those 140 characters was (I could write a bloody book on the past week so in diary form to control rambling) the following....

Monday 30th June - I was up at the usual 'stupid O'clock' that allows me enough time for 'Coffee-cig-Twitter' before I'm required to do 'The mum thing' - Aside from the usual aches, pains and fatigue I felt relatively okay.

We had a house check at 10.30am (a yearly requirement if you're a private tenant) so after 'Little' had left for school (and after a tad more 'coffee-cig-Twitter' time) I went up stairs to make beds and run a duster round.

I'm not quite sure what part of 'It's just a bit of dusting' my back didn't understand but by the time the house check (intrusion) commenced I was bent in half when standing, unable to sit pain free and struggling to walk!

By lunch time (during an essential food shop trip) my mobility was so poor I could really have done with a wheelchair - as it was I hobbled slowly around Sainsbury's hanging onto the shopping trolley for dear life, my hips gave way every few steps and how I never passed out (the pain was unbearable) is beyond me!

Tuesday - I was in an incredible amount of pain all day, my mobility was very poor and I was worried sick about my dad!

Wednesday - Awake at the usual 'stupid O'clock I edged tentatively to the edge of the bed, braced myself and (expecting to crumple) stood up to find that other than the usual aches & pains, fatigue I was okay....Phew!

P.M - Dad called - his results are back - he has an appointment tomorrow - tomorrow we will know if his Cancer is operable or (please God NO!) terminal.

Thursday - I tried to get up at the usual 'Stupid O'clock' but  was initially unable to move the lower part of my body! Twenty minutes later (after much heaving, crying and 'ow ow owing') I eventually made it to the edge of the bed and stood up, using the wall for support I managed a few incredibly painful steps before collapsing into a heap on the floor!
Almost passing out with nausea & pain I had no choice but to stay there - I was (quite literally) temporarily unable to move from the hips down.

I couldn't call 'The body guard' (that's hubs to the newbies) as he was already downstairs with 'Littlie' (who is disabled and unsafe if left unattended)  

After a while (I'm not sure how long but I missed 'Coffee-cig-Twitter' time) temporary lower body paralysis subsided and I managed to crawl to the dressing table, pull myself up and make my way (painfully & carefully) down the stairs.

'The body guard' padded & dressed 'Littlie' (usually my job) - I managed (with great difficulty and in unimaginable pain) to brush and plait her hair.

I remained seated but at least upright long enough to see her into her wheelchair and onto the school bus then hobbled (unwashed & undressed) to a lounge chair in the garden and there in a state of agony only marginally less than that which walking would have caused I stayed.

P.M - Dad called.
I was expecting the call, I'd planned my reaction, I'd talked myself through it....

("I won't cry while he's on the phone.. unless the news is good."
"Relief tears he can cope with.. tears of joy are okay"
"Blubbing uncontrollably while he's still on the line if the news is bad.... No! - I won't do that")

"I'm sorry babe" he said " It's spread, it's in my stomach, liver and lymph nodes - There's nothing they can do - It's terminal".....
....I cried! (Breathless, snotty, mournful sobbing would be more accurate)  - I knew the sound of  my grief would break his heart and I went and did it anyway!

Thankfully he was not aware when he hung up the phone that I would have a severe panic attack a little while later - that my tears would continue relentlessly for hours and then off and on for days, or that in addition to my broken heart my body was (and had been for days) broken too.

Friday - I struggled from bed to family in much the same way as I had done the day before.
Once with them I was next to useless and on a scale of 1-10 pain scored an easy 9 while mobility struggled to get much past zero. I was temporarily at least (now physically as well as mentally) disabled!

I probably should have gone to A&E as soon as 'Littlie' left for school but agoraphobia prevents me being able to go anywhere without hubs - the wait to be seen is usually 4+ hours and despite having shopped on Monday Littlies specific dietary needs meant we needed to shop again (we don't own a car so we 'small shop' twice a week as much as we can carry)

Anyway, I could make it to the loo and back hanging onto hubs, walls, furniture but effectively I couldn't walk so after dressing which was agony we jumped (he jumped I crawled) into a cab and headed (hitting every frigging road bump there was to be had) over to my mums to pick up her spare wheelchair.
(My wheelchair experience is a blog on its own so I'll save that for another day)

A text message from my Dad came through while we were out, It read....
"Kimmie, I'm so sorry, I will always be your Dad, it was so hard for me to tell you yesterday that nothing can be done, I love you so much"

With a head full of all the right words but eyes too blurred by tears to type them - in reply I managed only "I love you"

Saturday & best part of Sunday were much the same as Friday had been except thankfully we didn't need to go anywhere.
With back & heart breaking I was no use to anyone and 'The body guard' was run ragged taking care of 'Littlies' needs and my own.
'Littlie', though usually prone to meltdown was thankfully (aside for one incident) a dream all weekend.

Around 4pm on Sunday afternoon,  my mobility quite suddenly improved and by the time I went to bed pain (aside from when initially getting up out of a chair) was manageable.
There are no words that adequately describe how relieved I felt.

Monday again, 7th July -  Awake at the usual 'stupid O'clock I edged tentatively to the edge of the bed - braced myself - stood up and.... no pain, Yah!
I headed (practically skipped) down the stairs in plenty of time to indulge in *coffee-fag-Twitter* before doing 'The mum Thing'.

I managed to dress 'Littlie' without 'The Body Guards' assistance and for the first time in days got myself dressed without having to chase knicker holes round the floor with my toes in order to get my draws on.

I then walked into town with hubs and all the way round Sainsbury's relatively pain free - A miraculous recovery!

Once home 'The body guard' unpacked the shopping and I sat down to *coffee-fag-Twitter*, no sooner had I done so and my bum began to beat ( I kid you not!) within minutes of bum beat commencement the whole of my right leg, from hip to toes excluding (weirdly) my big toe was a nauseating combination of numbness akin to pins and needles and pain excruciatingly similar to 'Funny bone' pain.

The only relief from said combination (exhausted though I was) was to walk....and walk and walk and walk o_O

Sitting down even for a moment increased both pain and nausea and I spent the next few hours humming bonkers style (screaming would have upset Littlie) and pacing floor space like my life depended on it,
Dad called in the midst of all this to tell me that his life expectancy (if chemo is successful) is 12 months - if it fails we're looking at 4-6.

Eventually after 'Littlie went to bed I crashed exhausted onto the settee and spent the evening squirming - doing my best not to throw up - sobbing every time my thoughts turned to 'Dad' and battling the ever present and recently exacerbated OCD (intrusive thoughts)

....It was a similar state to the one just described that I was in yesterday morning when I gave in to itchy fingers and tweeted my despair and today (though writing has been cathartic) things have been much the same.  

So Thank you kind friends (You know who you are) who responded to my '140 characters' yesterday morning because truth is - I WAS feeling negative & needy - I did make for a pathetic sight sat in a borrowed wheelchair typing through tears and if I'm honest (in the sense that I needed sympathy, kind words, a friend, a distraction) I WAS attention seeking.

Thank you also to all the others (You also know who you are :O) who have (over the past few weeks especially) responded to my various other *characters*.
Your friendship/kindness/support means an awful lot to me.

POSITIVE THOUGHT

PRAYER
Lord Thank you for leading me to a whole bunch of *lovelies* who are willing despite their own struggles to support me through mine. Amen

Thank You as always for allowing me to share

God bless you and all those you love

Kimmie X

Links to related posts>>>>  'The man' has Cancer.       Me to You

Saturday, 21 June 2014

'The man' has Cancer.

My sister phoned this evening - she phoned and she said - "Dad has Cancer".

"Cancer of the esophagus" - "a malignant tumour" - "it will be two weeks before we know if it's operable/possible to treat with radio/chemo therapy or if it's terminal" - "This is bad but try and stay positive, it may be treatable".

Positive! - I've never felt this far from positive in my life!

My Dad - My *always there and if he's not there he's getting there* Dad - has Cancer.

The Dad above all dads - The only person in my life I trust completely - the only person who (aside from my Nan who died when I was eleven) has never hurt me - has Cancer.

CANCER - CANCER - CANCER - CANCER!

I don't know how to deal with that!

I'm scared.

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Thank you for allowing me to share

God bless you and all those you love  

Kimmie x 


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UPDATE 4/7/14 - Dad had a scan this week, in addition to the oesophagus the Cancer has spread to his liver, stomach and Lymph nodes - there is nothing they can do - I'm going to lose my Dad! I don't think I need to explain how heartbroken I am.

Please bear with me friends, I'll update the blog when I can and do my best to keep up with as many of you as possible via Twitter & Facebook. 
If you need me DM on Twitter, PM on facebook or leave a message on the blog. I'm still lurking if not always active online - I'll hear you :o) 

Bless you all who have supported me over the past few weeks - It's meant more than you could possibly know! 

God bless 

Kimmie X 

UPDATE 4/2/15 - After months of chemo..an attempt to slow down the Cancer, (buy more time) Dad had another scan this week....the chemo has failed..existing growths have grown, and the Cancer has spread to Dads lungs....Nothing more can be done....except, pain relief and palliative care - It's just a matter of time now. 

I don't know how to be in a Dadless world....I'm going to miss him so much....my hearts breaking. 


PRAYER... Lord, I pray that despite the distance between us, and symptoms of mental illness that prevent me from travelling, when the time comes, somehow...you'll get me there. Amen