The day began yesterday having had a decent sleep. Enjoyed seeing the Geordie branch of the family. Children beautiful and growing fast. Little Max nearly 11 months but he’s so big! Emily put on a concert for us with four dress changes. What a star she is! And Cass face-timed after his team won a Futsal tournament in which he scored eight goals and played brilliantly his Mum said.
But then – I don’t know what happened. Things went into a downward spiral. Though I feel good, did some baking, prepared dinner, I couldn’t stop thinking about death, my death, and it’s doing my head in. Not such a brave lady. All smoke and no fire. What a hypocrite I feel.
How do others deal with situations like this? Where do they get their strength, their peace? Is it in acceptance? In resignation? In fight? In contemplation? Stephen gave me some sound advice recently which I keep returning to. Poor Max. He keeps getting it in the ear.
I’ve decided to stay up late with the IPad and distract with drama – as if there wasn’t enough in my life at the moment.
11 March 2018
And so morning comes. A few hours of Lethe and then we’re off. A quiet early cup of tea with birds twittering in the garden. Many can’t hear birds, many have no garden – so be quiet Pauline. Seek out only the positives.
Stop measuring the worth of your life in human measurements of time. It’s mere jealousy of others that’s motivating your anger.
Dylan Thomas says in his poetry:
While I feel well, I must rage. I must do. I must be. Live for the moment.
“Christ be with me. Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ on my right, Christ on my left…”
Momma B's blog of hope 
No-one can tell you how to feel. All these emotions are yours and are real. But please remember that we haven’t even started this journey. It isn’t over. It’s the waiting. I know you’ll feel better once you’ve seen a professional who can answer your questions and then we can focus on treatment together. At the moment there’s no focus – just time to think. I know I take after you and have a good imagination, but one thing my good friend Nic (who I worked with in Leeds and understands what you’re going through) said was: “Taking things day by day, here and now, helped me.” Easier said than done but I’m trying to do that too to deal with this situation myself. It’s the only way we all can get through. Happy Mother’s Day beautiful Mum. See you soon x
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Thank you for today’s blog. It really made an impression on me x
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Happy Mother’s Day Mum we love you 💚💚💚
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Pauline you’re not a hypocrite you’re human and what you’re feeling is quite normal. Take each day as it comes and enjoy the moments particularly when it’s Momma B’s day! I’m busy preparing Sunday lunch for four mums, there’s room at the table to join us. My yorkshires are the best…
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Pauline certainly not a hypocrite – you ! don’t think so – but human like us all.
I know how the imagination can take us places we don’t really want to go and actually often does not turn out to be the reality. Great advice from Rachel about taking one day at a time because that’s the only way. So, have a beautiful Mother’s Day with your beautiful family . remember they’re beautiful because of beautiful Pauline and Max .
Enjoy today … love sue
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Not a hypocrite Pauline just being honest, your blogs are very thought provoking and are having a profound effect on me, have a lovely Mother’s Day you deserve it.xx
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Ah Pauline, I wish I was there to give you a big hug. As has been said, once you get going on the treatment you will feel more positive. Lots of love. xxx
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Hello, Pauline – I’m Rachel’s friend, Nic. Hope you don’t mind me gatecrashing your blog. I had breast cancer treatment a few years ago and I really identify with how you’re feeling. You’re dealing with a huge shock (particularly with the lack of prior symptoms), uncertainty, and your mind is trying to process it all. Waiting for information and a treatment plan is so very difficult, and I’ve met many other people who’ve said the same. I remember feeling quite detached from ‘normal’ life just after my diagnosis – like I was observing people getting on with their everyday lives. It felt quite surreal.
It’s completely natural to experience such a mixture of emotions, as you so eloquently describe here. I remember a nurse saying to me that it’s not compulsory to be ‘positive’ and ‘brave’ all the time – it helps to express how you’re feeling, rather than bottling it up inside. That said, I see lots of positive moments in your post – your lovely grandchildren; baking; the birds in the garden. I remember finding renewed appreciation of the simple pleasures in life.
I really hope that this week brings some constructive information and a plan of action from your medical team. This will help to give you a focus and more control of the situation. Thinking of you – take care xxx
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