This process – the blog. Has been helpful in respect to allowing me to process my thoughts and emotions in a more thorough and structured way (a more thoughtful way, if you will). However, I thought that it would be prudent to also explore and use other avenues available to me, that may help me to process what has been going on over the past few weeks. Work offered me counselling. I accepted said offer.

Thursday 7th March – Session Number 1 and visiting M+D

I attended my first session in early March. 4pm. I ‘checked in’ at reception and took my seat in the waiting room. After a 10 minute wait a lady called my name and introduced herself as Julie. Upon entering the room where the sessions would take place, I couldn’t help but feel it could do with a bit of love. It was sparsely decorated and had a cold feeling to it. A surprise. As I would think that such a place would want to be created in such a way that it exuded warmth and comfort.

The first session was spent setting the scene for the sessions to come. Why I was there. How I was feeling. What the situation potentially entailed moving forward. We spoke about the short term battles that lay ahead – The biopsy and the results that it bared were at present one of the more imminent psychological and emotional battles that lay ahead. The biopsy was tomorrow.

*The biopsy ended up confirming what we had already been told – S4. Liver and Pancreas. Inoperable. There was a positive – Chemotherapy would be on offer and would/should have a positive impact on his condition.

We also touched on the longer term battles. I was not and I am still not comfortable in discussing those areas. At some point I will need to face up to those battles but not yet and hopefully not for a good while yet.

I left the session with a sense of confusion and a little frustration. Confused about whether or not the session had been helpful and would they be helpful/more helpful as they progressed. Frustrated due to the fact that I lead the conversation more times than I believed I should. There were times where I felt that Julie should spark the next part of the session, break the silence as I had clearly discussed my thoughts and emotions fully at that particular juncture. I understand letting the silence sit, to let the individual process thoughts and emotions, potentially allowing them to continue or move on at their own pace and onto their own topic of choice. However, at times it is appropriate for the counselor to take control of the ‘silence’. Upon reflection, I feel it can not be easy to find words in such a situation, especially, when it’s not one that you have had any prep time for. A client walks in and explains that their dad has been diagnosed a week earlier with incurable cancer. Not an easy situation to find yourself in, whoever you are and whatever your job.

I left the session, drove home and picked up Kels. We would be heading over to see mum and dad. They had found suitable accommodation on a campsite that they had previously stayed on with their camper-van. The owner had offered them one of the large static caravans on site for a very reasonable price with all bills included. At present it was the best option as the rental market in the area is sparse and expensive.

We had visited them before at the campsite. Especially last summer (remember THAT summer), they came down whilst the World Cup was on. BBQs were had, alcohol and plenty of food were consumed. As was a staggering amount of sun cream. The summer of 18 will live long in the memory that’s for sure. However, this would be our first evening visit them in their new digs. I was pleasantly surprised, it was warm, homely and welcoming – the opposite to the room I had spent an hour in earlier on in the day.

Mum cooked. We chatted, chilled and enjoyed the evening. We watched MasterChef – a long standing favorite in our family (even though Kels and I prefer the Australian version). We also watched Comic Relief – The Apprentice. Now. I am an Apprentice fan normally, but, my god that was shite. Dad had been in good spirits. We laughed, we joked and we enjoyed what the television had to offer on the whole. We did also discuss the biopsy, as it was tomorrow, dad said that he was apprehensive – understandably so!! I think we all were.

We left and headed home at around 10pm. It had been a nice evening, an enjoyable and relaxing one. We need more of those, they have become too infrequent, as they are instead at times dominated by the stress and pressures of the bigger picture that we currently reside in.

Mum and Dads Day Trip to London

In early to mid March the old pair decided to take a day trip up to London during the week. Get out and enjoy themselves. They were going to come back and spend the evening with me – Football was on the TV (shame that 😏)!!

Dad wanted to visit the Imperial War Museum. So that’s exactly what they did.

When I finished work, I called him, to see what the plan was for the evening. He sounded a bit rattled and not overly happy. When they arrived at mine, he was visibly in discomfort and looked drained.

It transpires that earlier on during the day he came over with bad abdominal pain. To the extent they had to cut the day trip to London short.

He was in a lot of pain during that evening. Lacking in appetite also. They left before the football finished. An uncharacteristic move on their part but obviously an understandable one.

The next day (Thursday) I messaged him in the morning and asked how he was feeling. Not good. Back at the hospital was the response. 🙈😢!!

I left work and headed straight for the hospital. He was in the main emergency section of the A&E department. He had his own bay and bed.

He had been sent for scans earlier on in the day and had his bloods done. The bloods were showing an infection, again. The scans showed no spread in respect to the tumours and the majority had not increased in their size. One of the 🤬 had on the pancreas. Which was more than likely the cause of the pain.

He would be kept in overnight and was waiting for a bed to become available on one of the wards. Mum went home – she had been with him at the hospital since the morning – it was now 7pm. I would stay with him.

We chatted, watched MasterChef on the tablet and waited for the call. The first call was a false alarm, he was simply being moved to a quieter area whilst he waited.

The room was not so quiet. There was a gentleman in the bed next to dads. This gentleman was loud, a touch rude and obnoxious. It transpired that he was an alcoholic who had Cirrohsis of the Liver and an infection around his heart. Said individual was loud and rude to the nurses. He also consistently complained about the situation that he found himself in. That was particularly had to hear and to take. He had a potentially life threatening condition that was completely and utterly self inflicted. My dad had his own Liver related condition that was not. Yet said gentleman was cursing his misfortune and luck. 🤯!!

The world, as we know, does not always seem a fair and just place. This situation simply exacerbated that feeling and outlook.

It got to 11pm and he told me to go. I had work in the morning. As normal, I was reluctant, he hadn’t been sorted on a ward. However, I had been given my orders and I followed them.

He was in the hospital Friday as well through until early afternoon on the Saturday. His morphine had been increased and he had also been given liquid morphine to take if his pain got considerably worse during the day. The main thing was that he was out of hospital and feeling better.

Morphines A Bitch – March 25th

Ah. The wonderful world of morphine.🤨!!

The old boys pain had been particularly bad again. So, for the first time, he took some of the liquid morphine that he had been prescribed. The results of the morphine were, from my perspective, undesirable on the whole.

It helped his pain at the time. However, he lost his lucidity almost entirely. He was consistently in an incoherent haze state. Mentally and physically unable to function effectively. Whether it be having a conversation or simply eating dinner. He was not himself. He had become a shell of the person that he was 3 or 4 days ago. On top of the liquid morphine they had also upped his tablet dosage. We were sat around the dinner table and I asked him how his pain was. He said, ok, much better. I suggested that maybe he decrease the daily morphine tablet intake if his pain was ok. See if that still managed the pain and hopefully would have a knock on affect of increasing his lucidity and clarity of thought.

Thankfully after a day or two. It did! His pain was still under control and he was back to his normal self. Conversing, joking, being up and about and eating more. All of which were important, especially the eating part. Seeing as he had been losing weight at rate of knots.

The Scooter

I arrived at Mum and Dads after work and unprepared for what followed.

They had spent the day looking for a motorised scooter, as dad was having trouble with his mobility. Walking even a short distance resulted in a fairly significant increase in pain. We were due to go to the 2nd of two test events being held at Tottenhams new stadium in two days time. A Legends Match 🆚 Inter Milan. A big deal for us. As it was unlikely he would make it to the opening game, a premier league game 🆚 Crystal Palace next Wednesday night. So it would be our first visit and at the present time we were unsure when he would be well enough to attend again.

I struggled with the scooter idea. It may seem trivial and unimportant to some but it was a big deal to me. The fact they had been looking at a scooter came as a bit of a shock to me. There had been no mention of the need for one previously. At the time I was a little ambivalent towards the idea.

The reasons for this were two fold.

One – if he relied on the scooter it would further reduce his strength and ability to maintain his mobility and independence moving forward. All of which were very important for him to maintain for and during the fight that lay ahead.

Two – it further brought home the seriousness of the situation, the extent that it was affecting my dad and unveiled his mortality and current vulnerability to an even greater extent.

But.

If it enabled him to get around and do things at the present time then really that is just a positive thing. Hopefully once treatment starts and he gets a bit stronger he will not have to rely on a scooter.

The next day Mum and Dad managed to get hold of one. A rental. No point in buying one as he may not need it 3 months down the line!!

The Legends Match

The previous day the old pair had acquired the scooter and today it would be put to the test.

They swung by my place and picked me up at around 12.30pm. It was a 4.30pm kick off.

Dad looked tired and hadn’t had the best night. However, he drove us from Gillingham in Kent round to Tottenham. We found a parking space in the area that we had parked for over 10 years whilst we were season ticket holders as I grew up. It was a wonderful feeling to be back there. Together.

I helped dad get the different components of the scooter out of the boot and assemble them. He then sat in the scooter and off he went. It brought a smile to my face. A sense of pride. He may be in a scooter, but at present, he needed that scooter. What it really said to me was that he wasn’t going to let things get in his way. He would find a way to overcome the obstacles that lay ahead. 🙌!!

We took the oh so familiar route past Northumberland Park train station down towards the new stadium. We had followed the build of the stadium over the past few years. Seen videos, photographs and heard wonderful things about the sheer size of the stadium and its architectural magnificence. Even with all that prior information. It still blew us away. My dads jaw dropped and he just said.. ‘Wow’!!

Wow indeed!! It is stunning and no photo or video does it justice!!

We journeyed around the stadium to take it all in before heading inside. We were told by the club that we would be able to store dads scooter in gate 13 (even though we were supposed to enter via gate 10) and go up the lift to level 5 where our seats were. The staff were excellent. Very accommodating and very helpful.

The game itself was slow and a tad laborious. Not totally unexpected as the youngest player on the pitch was 39 and the majority were well over 45. Still, the occasion itself was fantastic. Being in the stadium, seeing the legends from the past, a fair few of which dad and I used to watch grace the pitch of the old stadium together back in the day. We loved it!!

March was a month of ups and downs. No doubt that will be the pattern that shapes our lives for the foreseeable future. As April holds further unknowns. Chemo. And it’s infamous side effects.

🤞 he will be able to cope with it. After all, you’ve gotta have faith 🙂!!