I know - talking about last Christmas in September, it’s taken a while to write ... but this year will be different. Happier and less tears all round!
Really wish this was a happier post, but truthfully, this was the worst Christmas we’ve ever experienced. And I pretty much ruined it for everyone else too, even though they would never admit that to me! All through the 3 weeks in Sheffield, after the sciatic pain, cancer diagnosis and everything else, we had dreamed of me being home to enjoy a family Christmas. I may not have been able to move about much but that wasn’t going to stop me! We had it all planned. My brother and sister in law were making a gorgeous roast, Wesley was going to get spoilt, and Averly was going to be cuddled by everyone. And I intended on stuffing my chubby little face. Christmas Eve came, we did our tradition of McDonald’s and looking at Christmas lights around the area. And because we have a 2 year old (our excuse!), we planned on watching the CBeebies panto in our new jarmies from the Christmas fairy with hot chocolates. Perfect. Other than the mouth thrush and ulcers as a side effect from treatment (meaning the only thing I could really have from McDonald’s was a milkshake, which went down a treat!) everything went great. Wesley was super excited, once he went to bed, out came the flat pack kitchen and drum kit. I lay on the sofa with Averly, doing the hardest part ... encouraging and motivating Luke to build ... when I just felt super cold. I was next to the radiator and had our big thick blanket over me. Luke knew something wasn’t right and got the thermometer out (which you have to do regularly during treatment) which showed it had a 40•c temp. Whilst I was on chemotherapy I was told to go to A&E if I had a temp any higher than 37.5•c. My sister in law works in the cancer centre in our local hospital so we called her up, hoping she’d say I’d be fine to not go to A&E. She didn’t say anything of the sort, so off we headed to hospital. I just took my notes from Sheffield and had Levi, Amy and Luke’s Mum come to watch the kids whilst we went. I presumed I’d be back in a few hours. I called my Dad rather confident I’d be home and said I’d phone him when I was home. So that was just before 11pm, we were put in a bay in A&E. We saw a triage nurse who advised I had some bloods done. I hate looking as the needle goes in so I was looking away, then sensed he’d been faffing for a bit longer than just taking bloods - only to glance and see a cannula in my arm. I knew at that point I wasn’t going home. Luke didn’t believe me! He was adamant we’d be home to see Wesley’s face Christmas morning. It was at this point that Levi had finished building everything and was on standby to put all the presents under the stairs incase I didn’t come home and Wesley was up before we got back. Cannula in, now we waited to see a doctor. We waited. And waited. And waited. Until about 5am when a very arrogant doctor, came swaggering in. He was wearing jeans and a scrubs top. He looked so unprofessional. I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be judgemental but after no sleep when you’re on chemotherapy it makes things ten times worse, throw in the fact it’s Christmas then I was even grumpier. We were both ratty, tired, upset and felt very deflated at this point. He had no clue about my condition, or any of my health background for that matter, he said something about an infection, didn’t say where or anything, just said I’d be going on IV antibiotics and wouldn’t be going home. I could feel the tears building up inside. Luke propped up and begged if we could go home just for an hour to see Wesley open his presents. The doctor says he’d see what he could do, but we heard him tell the other nurses (who were so sympathetic as they too had children and understood how much it meant to us) “there’s no way she’s going home!” in a very cocky way. That was it, I bawled like a baby. And Luke shed a few tears too. Broken. I sent Luke home to at least get an hour in if he could before Wesley woke up. It must have been horrible for him to wake up with the kids and not act like it was Christmas. Luke loves Christmas so much and we were so excited about this year, Wesley doesn’t fully understand but he knew we were excited about something which made him excited! Turns out he was awake already when he got home. Poor Uncle Levi had to ignore that it was Christmas (and his birthday!!) too! I think it was only at this point that we felt a little defeated. I couldn’t believe it could have gotten any worse. The nice nurses wheeled a bed into the bay, I was hooked up to anti biotics straight away. The most frustrating thing was that I felt fine. Minus the mouth thrush and ulcers and general chemotherapy side effects and pain ... ok I wasn’t fine, but I didn’t feel unwell if that makes sense. I pretty much cried on and off from the moment I was told until about midday. The staff said they couldn’t come in because they wanted to cry too. And the poor doctor that was on in the morning tried to come and do my obs so many times but couldn’t catch me at a time I wasn’t hysterical. Wesley came early morning with Luke, he brought a couple of little presents we got him, some cars and animals. I was so exhausted at this point. Still in a side bay in the A&E department, I couldn’t even speak. Bless him, Wesley was so excited to get those little presents. It made his day, I was just devastated he had to open them in a bay. The two incredible nurses on shift that morning who knew how important it was for me, carried in a Christmas tree and tried to make it really special, I think it was so Wesley could have his presents under a tree on Christmas Day. This just made me cry more. Even though it was Christmas Day it was so lovely to see some of my family and friends, they took time out of their busy day to come and see me. I’ll forever be grateful of that - I don’t think they’ll know how much it meant. I didn’t move onto a ward until around 2pm. So Christmas dinner was served in the bay. For a hospital Christmas dinner looked quite nice, but I couldn’t eat any of it. Which set me off crying again!! Honestly, I don’t know how much I saw Averly that day. It didn’t feel like very much at all. I hate that. It makes me feel like I let them down. I had all these plans prepared for Averly's first Christmas, the outfits, the gifts, the plans - but none of it happened. Later that night, I was in my own room on AMU, I don’t think it was late. I was on my own but exhausted still so I had the lights off and was trying to sleep. A doctor came in, stood at the door and said “we can’t deal with you here, we’re sending you back to Sheffield tomorrow.” And walked out. I was stunned. Barely had time to sit myself up let alone process the information. I was due to go back on 27th anyway, but had barely been home since the last stint in Sheffield so I was heartbroken, and a little confused. Then I felt angry - how dare he come in and tell me something like that so bluntly. Surely looking at my notes he’d have a little compassion that I’m a new mother with a serious illness, I was a mess. Any new mums 3 weeks post partum are fragile! I climbed out of bed and thought, I’m not having that, tears had turned to rage at this point so I swung my door open and he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Probably for the best because I wouldn’t have known what to say after all!! I clearly remember Boxing Day night, my sister in law combing the knots out of my hair as it had started to fall out. She was trying to hide the fact it was coming out but I wanted to see. I needed to know if it was real. It took until 27th to finally be discharged and allowed to make my own way to Sheffield to get there on time for my treatment. Ironically no paramedics were available to get rid of me to Sheffield on Boxing Day. My Dad dropped everything to drive me up. I still feel so guilty for ruining everyone’s Christmas. And overwhelmed that everyone bent over backwards again to make sure Wesley and Averly had a lovely Christmas. I can’t even type this without crying and having a lump in my stomach. But God is good. For that brief moment of heartache He’s blessed me with a lifetime of happiness. This has shown me that I’m richer that my wildest dreams could ever imagine. So to the core of my world, I need to share this; Wesley, you are the most amazing son. You make me smile constantly. Your energy and enthusiasm is admirable. Don’t ever stop being you. Stand out of the crowds, play your guitar wherever you go and never forget that I love you with everything I have. You need to know that I’m so proud of you, seeing how strong you are becoming, just like your Dad. Carry on being kind to everyone because your joy is contagious. Averly, you are my precious, little girl. I can’t even describe my love for you. You came into a world of chaos yet you were so calm and peaceful. Your smile melts me and you’re laugh makes everything right. Don’t stop being your feisty self. And know that your brother loves you just as much as we do and will always look after. You’re my princess and I’ll forever polish your crown, but stay your kind natured, beautiful hearted self. I love watching you grow and learn, you’re incredible. You stop and dance at any moment possible, I need to be more like you. And Luke, where to start. You make me a better person. I’ll never stop admiring you and how you can love everyone no matter who they are. You make me feel better than any medication ever could. I hate being apart from you. Thank you for constantly looking after me, Wesley and Averly with the humblest of hearts. I struggle to put into words how incredibly blessed I am to have you. I love you so much. And I’m so proud to call you my husband. If this situation has shown me anything, it’s be thankful for all you have. See what’s around you and what are blessings. You’ll be surprised how many blessings there really are. I’ll forever be grateful of the friends and family who took time out of their Christmas to make sure that me and my family were ok. Money isn’t anywhere near as valuable as that. This year will be different without a doubt. I’ll appreciate it a whole lot more. And nothing will come close to the priceless friends and family I have.
*edit* This photo was taken in the Weston Park Museum, when one of the GTD specialists managed to get us squeezed in to see Father Christmas During the 3 weeks I was in hospital at the beginning of December. It was so magical. Christmas Day was a bust but that moment was incredible! If anyone is ever in Sheffield around Christmas time you must go through their Christmas wonderland and meet Father Christmas. Link below.
https://www.museums-sheffield.org.uk