On their behalf...

When I wrote the last post I said it was Mum's intention to write you all very soon and indeed it was. She has been receiving so many lovely comments, support, cards, gifts and love from so many of you out there that she wanted to write to all you very badly.

However, I have been chatting with Dad/JP this evening and as Mum's condition seems to be declining rather more quickly than any of us expected, he asked me to write and thank you all for supporting her with all your comments and good wishes. This is on behalf of Mum/Moannie as well as from Dad/JP,  as he has been very touched by the effect that you have had on her over the years and more importantly recently. Dad doesn't really understand this technology of the internet and blogging, he doesn't use a mobile phone but has enjoyed hearing the stories and reading some of Mum/s favourite posts etc when she would print them out for him.

I'm sorry to have have to tell you that Mum cannot get to her beloved Paco and is rarely out of bed now.

I'm sure you can all in fill in the blanks.

I will continue to to post here ( as my brother and sister may do so also ) and I will keep you informed as to Moannie's condition. She is still  at home with Dad looking after her, Milou is on guard at the bottom of the stairs; my brother NOAOS visits most days and shores up our Dad; my sister visited this weekend and made some hearty soup that they both relished and sat with Mum throughout the weekend.

Again thank you for always stopping by and being here.

luv Saz xx

Some good news...

I am very pleased to be able to tell you that this afternoon, Mum/Moannie came home.

After two weeks in the Hospice, she has be well looked after, monitored and her symptoms have been relieved. She has begun to sleep better through the night and so has more energy.

So tonight she is very comfortable and happy to be surrounded by the comfort of her own home, and l'm guessing that means JP and Milou as well!

pic taken by my sister a few weeks ago

I will keep you updated on her progress and no doubt when she can get to Paco she may well post to you all very soon. At the moment she is not up to receiving visitors, but in the meantime we will continue to pass your comments and kind thoughts on to her and to JP/Dad who is doing an amazing job of which I am in total awe.

back soon

Sara xx

A big hello to you All!
This is Sara writing on behalf of Mum/Moannie... she asked me to give you all an update as she is unable at this time to get to her beloved Paco and write to you all in her own inimitable fashion.

Yesterday she was in some discomfort with her breathing and it was decided it was best that she be admitted  into the local Hospice for monitoring and  assessment.

Last night NOAOS reported that she was comfortable and feeling safe and cared for.
Today JP/Dad and I visited her; although she is very tired and struggling, l am pleased to say she is not in any pain. As the Doctors and nurses continue to monitor her, the aim appears to be to get her as comfortable as possible with a view to coming home.

She sends you all her love and wants you to know that your comments have moved her very much and help to sustain her. My father, siblings and I are so very touched by your constant visits to her blog and please continue to drop by, as we read them all the comments and emails to her at each visit.

Sara x

Now That Wasn't So Hard, Was It?

As it turned out the decision was not that difficult. When faced with only two choices neither  of which one does not truly want...it became almost an eeny meeny miney mo,  choice, and I came down on the side of 'do nothing' and I'm pleased I did. Now the full might of the NHS and the  Hospice are swinging into action to ease my way and all I have to do is get the most out of the time I have; hopefully I shall feel better than I feel at the moment.

The policy of the Hospice  movement is 'Do not resuscitate' and at first I had some trouble with it. Was assured that if, for example I was choking on a stringy French bean every effort would be made to help me, whereas they would make no effort to resuscitate if I suffered a major heart attack, or coronary    for example when  a life saved would be spent unconscious and hooked up to machines. I have opted for a home delivery [nice touch, l thought for I shall be delivered after a fashion.] But all that is way down the line.
Someone will tell me, I hope, if I stray outside of the boundaries of what is decent and tasteful to discuss on an open Blog...though perhaps it's to late to worry about being 'nice'.

Fact is; it doesn't really matter, does it?

A Rock and a Hard Place

Dear everyone, you must know how happy it makes me to receive your comments. At the moment I am between a rock and a very hard place, hence the title. Last week I went with NOAOS to see my Consultant with regard my recent scan results. It ain't good. The Fecker has come back with a vengeance in the last two months since I have ceased Chemo treatment. The Consulting room was filled with an air of doom and nobody could meet my eyes. Looks to the ground and walls as I tried to take in the news.

A short sharp shock of Radiotherapy has just made me feel worse. There were supposed to be no side effects but it has wiped me out completely.

Two choices my friends: let nature take its course, or undergo more Chemo which I know is going to be difficult if not impossible.

My Consultant says that if I do nothing I have between 3-6 months, to quote her "it's very difficult to say for sure, as everyone is different". That's the Rock, as for the Hard Place it's a case of Chemo again only this time it will be less effective than before and more devastating for me physically with a view to extending my days. I honestly don't know what to do but I have to make a decision by the weekend or further treatment will be ineffective. Whatever I decide I will keep writing or dictating my Blog until the end. You have been warned!

At the same time as this going on, JP went into Hospital yesterday for a triple A; Abdominal Aortic Aneurysm. I am very relieved to say that the operation seems to have gone well. A Stent was inserted into place to relieve the pressure. They reckon it would have ruptured within six months. Talk about fate, it was only discovered by accident when he passed some blood. Turned out it was a Kidney Stone (which didn't cause any pain) and was sent for a routine Ultrasound check-up, whereupon they saw the 'bubble'. He is due to come home in a few days but remains to be seen how he will be going forward.

As someone who 'manages' me and has been my Primary Carer for the last year, we will have to lean on each other from now on. Not the way I wanted or believed it would turn out but there's still time to pull out the Million to 1 shot and take the Fecker down!

Thank you my friends for your continued thoughts, prayers and love. It has made a huge difference over this last year and of course since we met in Blogland.

It ain't over 'til it's over.

Marking Tme

For the purpose of reassuring those who are still interested in this old bird, I am happy to report that I am still walking around, upright and with increasing strength.  I had thought, hoped, that I had seen the worst of what treatment could throw at me and that I would be able to draw a line under the whole sorry business and could go back to writing stuff that was all about fun and normality-but 'twas not to be-Radiotherapy was and continues to tire me out I have an itchy rash over most of my head and sleep comes only through the auspices of Zopiclone.


I personally am  bored rigid with the whole wretched business so heaven only knows why any of you stay with me.


Doesn't help matters when each day is grey wet and or windy.


  

I decided to re-publish a post that made you laugh once...giving me time to shake off the lethargy bought on by radiotherapy.


It happened a few days ago and at first I was so agitated that I said nothing, knowing that if I started on him I might do major damage, and spousal abuse is frowned upon.

Milou has slept under my bed since he was a puppy, when he was less weighty and could jump up to and from the bed easily. He would spend an hour or so snuggled up to me and then, irritated with my restlessness would jump down and crawl under. At first he did not have to duck his head or bend his legs even though there was only eight inches of clearance from the floor to the solid oak frame. But as he has grown older he is obliged to duck and slither underneath and JP, for whom Milou is, well 'special' on a par with the French Rugby team, ripe Camembert, and Napoleon and well ahead of Moi-has become concerned that it is getting too difficult for him.

JP. 'e 'as to do ze limbo to get under zair.
Me. I think it keeps him limber. Limber/limbo-hehe, geddit?
JP. No...I 'ave to do something.

The next day I see him taking some bricks upstairs but it doesn't really register until later. My lovely bed is now on four bricks and I am incandescent.

Me. No, I hate them. Please, take them out of my room.
JP. But you can't see zem.
Me. No, but I caught my foot on one and I hate them. Take them out, now, please.

And this is where I shot myself in the foot.

Me. Anyway, you've made a gigantic booboo because there are four supports underneath that were holding up the centre and are now in mid-air and now I'll break our thirty year old bed that you paid a thousand pounds for and which was supposed to last us till our final breaths.
He went to have a look and came down again with the bricks and I breathed a sigh of relief.

The next day I spent a couple of hours with NOAO son who had taken me to the Supermarket for a big shop. On my return we unpacked and put away the goodies and he made me a cuppa.

JP. I've fixed ze bed.
Me. [wailing] Oh noooooo! What have you done?
JP. [looking very pleased with himself] You won't see any sing. No bricks exposed and Milou will be 'appy.

I rush upstairs and don't know whether to laugh or cry because it's true there is nothing to see because my bloody bed is LEVITATING!

IT ISN'T FUNNY!!!!!!

The thing is that now I'm stuck with it. What he did was to crawl underneath and somehow, Lord knows how because the bed is extremely heavy; and  managed to wedge wooden blocks under each of the four middle legs, thus rendering the four outer legs obsolete. I certainly could not remove them. JP refuses to now that Milou can simply walk in and out. NOAO son can hardly walk never mind shimmy under my bed and the only other male candidate is youngest daughter's beau who said that he would not dare undo JP's sterling work.

If you read one day, that an elderly Frenchman, who had led a presumably happy life with his darling wife, is found dead with a Camembert stuffed in his mouth, you will know that I had nothing to do with his demise.

Since writing this the bricks have been removed and Milou now sleeps downstairs.