I write this with tears in my eyes, love in my heart and fear in my soul. Dearest Ava, what an amazing impact you've had on our lives, for me you have replaced a glass of wine after a long hard day, you are my happy place, you take me to so many wonderful places when we play and your love for me is unconditional, you look at me through innocent eyes and see things in me that no one else ever would.
Tonight we were talking about scan results and didn't even realise Ava was listening and once again she asked "are you still sick Lisa?", she's been asking this question a lot lately, are you all better Lisa? Such innocence in her voice when she asks me these questions, innocence in her face, innocence in her heart, I sometimes wonder does she know? I mean really know, does she know that one day Aunty Lisa won't be there to play super girl and spider man, one day we won't be able to retreat to our secret hideout together and dance to our own beat in front of the mirror and I won't be there to be her best friend for the day, because as we all know these kids are fickle as fuck, one day I'm her bff and the next day it's Nanna, but one day I won't even be in the running, do you know that Ava?
Ava you will be three on Sunday, a day I never in my wildest dreams thought I would be here for, but had always hoped I would be, I've always said I want to see her go to big school (kindergarten in Australia), I want to be there at her first day of school, watch her get excited weeks before school starts wanting to try on her uniform and model it for me, showing me her new school bag and lunch box, her pencil case filled with pencils that will create amazing stories of monsters and princesses and drawings of mum, dad and her puppy Trixie. Oh I can only imagine what those pencils will create, I want to stick one of her creations on my fridge and show her amazingness off to everyone who graces my kitchen.
Ava you're the closest thing to a cure for cancer that I've come across, you pick us up when we're falling into the cancerous chasm, you have this innate sense that I've never seen in any other child, but I'm probably a little bias, all you have to do is look into my eyes or hear a different tone in my voice and you know I'm not well today, you have a warm and caring heart that reaches far beyond any other human being I've ever known. Ava you are a star that shines that little brighter than all the others, you were brought into this world eight days before I found out my cancer was back and I was dying, you've never known any different, you've only ever known sick Lisa.
I want you to know that sick Lisa has tried her best to be as active an Aunty as possible, even with her limitations. The "healthy" Lisa would have climbed that tree with you, she would have picked you up and flown you around the room with your arms outstretched like the super hero you are, she would have wrestled, boy would she have wrestled, she would have rolled around on the floor for hours putting you in pretend choke holds and letting you beat her, healthy Lisa would have done so many fun things with you, the type of things that Mum and Dads don't want you to do, but for now you have "sick" Lisa and believe me Ava, sick Lisa tries so hard to pretend to be "healthy" Lisa.
Those secret times that I do pick you up, when the pick up patrol aren't watching, they hurt, I try not to let you see that when I'm carrying a pretend injured Ava to a pretend Ambulance, that my tumours are pulling and stretching with every step, I try and hide that from you, it's not just because I don't want you to miss out, it's because I don't want to miss out also. While other people are giving you pretend horsie rides on their back, I'm watching and with every fake gallop and pretend neigh, my heart is breaking inside knowing that I can't just get on the floor and horse around with you also.
Ava we've been given so much more than we ever thought we would get, but we've also had so much stolen from us. This cancer cloud that hangs over us everyday threatening to rain on our parade is so unfair, every night when you give me my kiss and hug goodbye, I can't help but think, "Will this be the last, the last kiss, the last hug, the last time we sing the wrong words to Let it Go together?".
I am sick Ava, I am really sick, but for some reason, some higher power is keeping me around, keeping me in pain, keeping me in fear and keeping me in your arms Ava, all the bad stuff, all the pain and suffering is worth it, if I can continue to be bossed around by you and maybe be the chosen one today, the one you call your best friend.
Stay fabulous rockstars ❤️🤘🏼
Tonight I asked my brother if he would do my eulogy at my funeral, not if he would do a speech at my wedding, not if he'd be Godfather to my child, no, my eulogy. As you can imagine he was somewhat taken aback by this request, you see I forgot that I had already thought about this and let it marinate for a few days, this was the first he was hearing of it. I mentioned to him that neither Mum or Dad particularly wanted to do it, because they didn't know how they would feel on the day and whether emotionally they would be up to it, to which my brother responded "Well I don't know how I'll be on the day". Which to be honest took me aback a bit. You see I just figured Steven being Steven he will front up on the day, chat to a few people, introduce himself to a few randoms, tell them a few awkward or inappropriate funeral jokes and then take his seat at the front of the chapel and be his normal
stoic unemotional self. Then when he has a minute at home by himself he might have a bit of a cry, pull himself together and then be what he thinks he is, the rock of the family, the one who has the answers to all of the hard questions, the one who has the shoulder for everyone else to cry on.
I love my brother more than life itself and I would honestly throw myself in front of a car to save his life, yes even before I was dying I would have done this. I always wanted to be besties with my bro. We moved to Australia at the ages of 8 and 5, Steven being the youngest. I loved holding Steven's hand, he hated it, especially in public. You see I was never an outgoing kid, I didn't make friends easily, so for me, Steven was like a built-in friend, he couldn't reject me because he was family, but no, that didn't stop him from rejecting me either.
I was always in awe of Steven's ability to make friends when he was a kid. It didn't matter where we would go, whether it be the McDonald's playground or in a Dental surgery waiting room, Steven always managed to make a friend and I just didn't have that skill.
As we got older, I finally got some social skills and started to make friends and even scored myself a boyfriend at 14, yep he was my first, my first kiss, my first love, my first everything really and my brother had his friends and left school in year 10 to work, so we just grew further apart I suppose. Then there was the bombshell my Mum and Dad threw at us when I was 19, they'd decided to move back to Ireland as my granddad wasn't too well (yep he's still alive today) and my brother had to go with them. You see we didn't have any family in Australia, we moved out here in the 90's to no-one except my dad's mate and his dodgy wife (they're divorced now, so I can call her dodgy) we had no aunts or uncles, no blood at all, so Steven was under 18 and Mum and Dad made him go back with them, whereas I was 19 and could make the decision to stay or go.
Now you remember that amazing boyfriend that I had when I was 14, the my first's guy, yeah him, well he was still around and I decided to stay in a country where I had no family or real support all because I figured the first's guy, let's just call him.......umm......Liam, well I figured Liam and I would make a life together, we both had jobs, we'd rent a little flat, get married and have babies, well all was going to plan, well he was still around anyway and then 6 months out of Mum and Dad moving back to Ireland, "Liam" and I were at a concert in the city and we were meant to stay two nights. On the second day "Liam" started to act strange and said he didn't want to stay the second night for some stupid lame reason, so we ended up catching the train back and he wouldn't even get off at my stop with me to see me home safely. When I finally got home I rang his house and his sister informed me that he had gone out somewhere. Sorry? Excuse me? He couldn't stay in the city with me, but he could go out somewhere. Anyway the next day I phoned him and I still remember he was sitting on the toilet, yep classy and he simply said its over, it's you and blew raspberries in my ear and hung up. Yep, you heard it right, I was dumped by a guy blowing raspberries whilst he was taking a shit over the phone. Oh by the way, he was cheating on me and had been for weeks, that relationship also ended eventually, although they did get engaged and lived together in between, so she was way ahead of me in the relationships stakes.
So my brother went back to Ireland with the parentals and by the time they moved back, he had his long-term girlfriend and he was a man, so we had grown even further apart. We still lived in a different state and would see each other a couple of times a year.
Then the big C came and Steven being Steven put his Mr Fix it hat on and googled every treatment, every surgeon, every hospital, every statistic, it made him feel like he had some control over something that in fact was out of all of our control, his mantra became 'plan for the worst, hope for the best', I heard that saying more times than I've had enema's and as we all know, many an enema I have had. I think it was as much of a wake up call for him as it was for everyone else.
Steven and I have always had an up and down relationship, we to and fro and ebb and flow, it's been that way our whole lives. We know we both love each other and I often feel that for some reason he just won't let me love him as much as I want to, that may sound strange, but it's like there's this invisible wall there that he builds every second conversation we have, all I want is for him to love me as I love him, for our relationship not to feel like a constant tug of war. I want him to realise that I think he is one of the smartest people I know, I want him to know that we don't need to compete for our parents like we did when we were kids and most of all I wish that he knew that my love for him although it seems conditional it's in actual fact unconditional and remember Steven if I do come back as a ghost, your house will be my first visit and Marianne I promise to call ahead x
Stay fabulous rockstars and cuddle your brother or sister when you get a chance ❤️🤘🏼
Lies, we tell them everyday, little white ones, great big fat ones and the ones we don't even realise we are telling, Man at register "How are you today?", your response "great" which is usually accompanied with a huge smile, number one lie you haven't even realised you've told for the day. In reality your heart is breaking, as you've just put your dog down and had to lie to your children about the fact that Mitzy, has gone to live with a lovely family on a great big farm, because she's gotten too big and you don't have the room for her to play, even though Mitzy is a Maltese terrier, all because you can't explain the reality of death to your 4 and 6 year old and see their little faces and world crumble at their feet and there you have number one great big fat lie of the day, you're now at a total of two lies and it isn't even 9am yet.
I mean could you imagine if I replied honestly to every person in a shop that asked me how I am? "Oh you know, the usual, I haven't crapped for a week because my scar tissue and tumours are causing blockages which in turn is giving me massive pain in my pelvis, my bladder, my anus, my entire abdomen, basically I feel like shit, because I'm full of shit, literally". Could you imagine the poor sales persons face and what would they say, "ummm, I hope tomorrow is better, have a nice day".
You see lying is second nature to us, but to someone like me it is almost a key to survival and a form of protection for my loved ones. I not only lie to my family, my friends, strangers on the street, I lie to myself everyday., because if I didn't I would probably just lay down and let my cancer take me.
I like to think all in all I'm pretty honest when it comes to my disease, but there are just some days that you don't want to go into detail about the pain or depression that you are suffering, so like you tell the cashier you're fine, I tell those concerned about me that I am fine, even though my organs may be strangling my tumours on the inside, causing me difficulty to breathe, walk or talk, but do I really want to go into that shit every single time a person asks how I am out of concern? No, it's too much bitching, it's too much nagging and quite frankly it's a reminder to me that I am that person, the one who is asked every day "How was your pain today?", because really there is nothing else to talk about, I am the cancer and the cancer is me.
Little white lies, these are the ones we tell knowing that if we get caught, what was once little can become a much bigger problem. Husband: "Did you buy a new bed head today?", Wife "No, I bought that ages ago, it was sitting in the garage, you just didn't notice it". Wife thinks she's smart because she used cash instead of credit, Husband: "Then what's this receipt I found on the floor of the back seat of the car dated today for $900.00? $900.00 that we could have used for the electricity bill that is through the roof because you insist on having the air conditioning heating the house 24/7 even though it's 22 degrees outside and you leave every light and "decorative" lamp on in the house, even though we aren't even in the room". What you once thought was just a little white lie has now blown out to a full on budget argument and it's all because you just had to have that bed head and thought lying about it was easier than telling the truth. Hey we've all been there, those little white lies are little bastards, for some reason they always come back and bite us in the ass, it's as if they want us to get caught.
A study done in 2002 at the University of Massachusetts found that people told an average of 2-3 lies in a 10 minute conversation, I can totally see this being right and not an over exaggeration at all. Eg. Friend; "hi, how are you?" Response: "Great, how are you?" (Lie number one, you feel like shit because you just found out your boyfriend Lee cheated on you, so you've just dumped his ass and you're not ready to tell your judgey mcjudgey friend who said he was no good for you in the first place and you just couldn't face the I told you so right now and who knows, you might get back together, right?). Friends response "I'm fantastic, how's Lee?", (lie number one, she was on the toilet last night with the runs and doesn't want to admit it to her friend, because she told her not to eat that piece of sushi at sushi train last night, because it didn't look fresh and she doesn't want her "knows everything all the time" friend to tell her I told you so). Response "Lee's great, he's just really busy with work right now", (lie number 2, yep he's busy with work right now, busy "working out" with Sarah from sales in the copy room). Friends reply: "That's crap, we should go see a movie then if Lees so busy at work" (lie number 2, friend saw Lee and Sarah on her way to the carpark "working" late outside of Nobu last night, Sarah must have needed mouth to mouth, because Lee looked like he was giving it to her pretty intensely). Response: "Nah, I don't think I'm really in the mood for a movie, I think I might just spend the night cuddled up on the lounge with Lee", (lie number 3, in reality you're going to be ringing, texting, emailing, snap chatting, what's apping, facebook stalking, Instagram stalking, facetiming and any other technological way of contacting or monitoring your now "ex", whilst swigging wine from the bottle and watching Bridget Jones' Diary". Friends response " That's cool, I was busy tonight anyway, I just thought you'd like the company, I'll call you tomorrow", (lie number 3, friend has no plans whatsoever and will now be swiping left or right if the mood takes her, whilst she too swigs wine from the bottle and watches Bridget Jones 2, the edge of reason). Response: "Great, talk tomorrow". This conversation would probably take all of 2 minutes and each person lied with every word that came out of their mouth, yes I know I made the whole thing up, but I bet there are conversations like this going on all over the world right now as we speak. I really feel sorry for Lee's girlfriend, I mean she's eating at Sushi Train whilst Lee and his secret girlfriend Sarah are eating at Nobu, it's bad enough he's schtooping (the act of having sex) some other woman, but to take her to Nobu, c'mon, where's the justice in that?
Lying, some of us do it to protect the ones we love, some of us do it for survival and others just do it because they like to fuck with people's heads and exaggerate their lives, no matter what the reason for lying, all I know is that If I do lie, it's usually to stop a friend from worrying about me or a loved one from stressing themselves into a mental institute. This life I live is filled with lies, lies I tell, lies my doctors tell, lies my nurses tell and lies that my family and friends tell, we are all lying to each other a lot of the time, because if we didn't, we wouldn't be able to face reality, even if our reality is a little unrealistic.
Stay fabulous rockstars and how many lies have you told today? ❤️🤘🏼
You gave me moments in time that I shall not forget, memories that are engraved in my mind and the minds of my family and friends for eternity, the gifts of joy and love that you have given are plentiful and infinite and for that reason I am grateful for the life I have had. Sure it might not be the easiest of lives ever lived, we've certainly had our ups and downs, but I hope when my time comes that my loved ones will remember the good times you gave us, rather than the bad times.
Life, you are a fickle friend, one day we are besties and the next we are mortal enemies, I never know what to expect from you. Will today be a pain free, fight free, fun filled day or will it be a pain filled, bed ridden, emotional roller coaster of a day? Life why can't you just be predictable? I know there are people out there who would say a predictable life is a boring life, a life unfulfilled, but for me and for many others out there suffering like myself, one thing we would love in life would be predictability.
Just imagine going to bed and setting an alarm Monday to Friday for the same time, then getting up in the morning, getting ready, eating breaky, hopping in the car, sit in horrendous traffic whilst listening to your favourite music, bitching and moaning about traffic in between singing the chorus like you're a real life fucking rockstar and not giving a shit that the person in the car next to you is looking at you as if you're Bert Newton without his wig on (if you're Aussie, you know that look), getting to work 10 minutes late, sitting at your desk typing monotonously, constantly glancing at your phone counting down the hours until home time, that time comes and you get back in your car and sit in the same traffic in the opposite direction, get home, make dinner, watch the news and have a glass of wine, go to bed and do it all again. Oh how sweet predictability would taste.
For those of you who hate predictability I totally get it, there's even a saying dedicated to it, familiarity breeds contempt, but if you lived our life of unpredictability, then you'd probably beg for your predictable life back.
Life, the days you give me extreme pain, the days that my body become so contorted and cramped that my carer has to massage my limbs back into normality, why do you like to gift me these days on days that I'm meant to be going out with a friend or when I'm on holiday and you think it's fun to give me a tumour bleed, so I spend more time in the hospital than I do in the hotel? Oh you are a fickle friend.
Life, how do you choose who is to live and who is to die? What pre-requisites must one have to escape the prematurely dying group? Why do some live to 90, whilst others live to 9? Where is the fairness in that? Do you do these things so that we "learn" from them? Are these things meant to make us better, stronger people? Quite frankly I'd rather be a weaker person and not experience these things in life that are meant to make us stronger. Life, are you and God friends? Is there a connection between what happens to us in life and what God wants for us to happen in life? Whose the boss God or you life?
Like good old Forrest Gump said "Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're gonna get", well sorry Forrest, any box of chocolates you buy have a fucking list of exactly what each chocolate contains, why can't life have a list of exactly what it's going to contain, so we know what to expect.
Life, you've had me dying for years, why couldn't you just tell me an exact date, so I can stop living you in limbo, not knowing day from day if it will be my last.
Life, you are the greatest gift of all, but Jesus Christ, there are some days you feel more like a pair of socks at Christmas rather than a piece of Jewellery.
Fabulous Rockstars, I hope that your Life is the gift you asked Santa for and not a pair of socks.
Stay fabulous rockstars ❤️🤘🏼
Photo one, courtesy of Ava Magill photography 👧🏻
So as you know we just had our two year anniversary family weekend, this was our third mini break on the coast since being told in 2014 I would be lucky to make it to Christmas that year and here we are a couple of weeks off celebrating my third bonus Christmas.
I was really looking forward to our little family mini break, I was especially excited to see my brother's reaction to staying at the hotel we were staying at. I bought six bottles of champagne that were on sale and I thought I was going to have the hangover of all hangovers, but what I had imagined and the reality of the weekend were two completely different things.
From Ava being obsessed with the bidet in the master bathroom and me catching her sneaking a sip of water directly from it and washing her hands in it to the air conditioning not working all weekend and all of us sweating like a whore in church, it was a very different weekend to what it would have been BC (Before Cancer) , BC I would have been singing and dancing on a table before Beyoncé even got to the second verse of Single Ladies and 3 bottles of champagne down before she got to the 3rd verse, but things are different now. Sometimes I wonder is it actually a Cancer thing that has caused this rapid decline in party animal or is it an age thing? It's a really confusing age 34, ten years ago at 34 you were more likely to be married, popping your third kid out and mortgaged to the hilt, but now I see so many of my female friends on Facebook, single and partying it up. Are they actually enjoying themselves or is it just a facade they put on for Facebook? God, I could think of nothing worse than dancing at some nightclub until the ugly lights come on and then moving onto the Sunday sessions after a few hours sleep, give me a Christmas movie and a take away any day.
I still wouldn't change our low-key weekend for the world. Alcohol does not make the weekend, it's the people who do, we made memories that will last a life time and that's what matters, the love and the laughter we shared this weekend will remain in the corners of our hearts and minds forever. You don't have to go to some fancy hotel to make lasting memories either, the hotel is just a little added bonus.
I was in bed by 9.30pm every night, didn't open one bottle of the 6 champagnes I bought, I probably only drank 5 glasses of champagne over the four days and my pain and tiredness was overwhelming, but just knowing that all of your family are in the same place is a really comforting thought.
Ava loved the whole three days, I thought she'd get there, run around excited for a minute and then start to complain about being bored, but she LOVED her "holiday house", she eagerly ran around the hotel room showing her Grando and Nanna the pool, the big bath and the TV that was hidden in the Wooden cabinet. It was like Christmas for her and anytime we left the room, she'd ask to go back to our holiday house. I thought we'd have the hardest time getting her to go home, but she said good-bye to the pool, literally and asked can we come back to our holiday house again? Of course we can sweetie......of course we can......another one of those promises I've made to her that I really can't promise to keep.
Anyone out there who has like myself been gifted the worst Christmas present ever, I'm talking worse than the ugliest Christmas sweater ever made, the gift of Terminal Cancer, I highly recommend making the effort and spending some special time with your immediate family, they will appreciate those memories more than any other gift you could possibly give.
So here we are back home, back to reality, I was hoping I accidentally had left my lethargy and nausea in the hotel room along with my phone charger, but it unfortunately seems to have followed me home, sneaky little bastard, it's as hard to shake as a black van full of martial arts experts following you in a Jacki Chan movie.
It's so clichè, but life is exactly what you make of it, I could have easily cancelled our weekend away and believe me the thought had crossed my mind more than once, but I figured a bed is a bed and if I have to spend the weekend in one, it may as well be in the hotel and that way I was not letting my family down by cancelling, Ava would have been heart-broken and I couldn't be the cause of that, the sadness on that little girls face would have killed me. So I put my big girl pants on and made myself go and although I'm as tired as The Geordie Shores fake tan application assistant I would do it all again tomorrow, just to see my nieces face at the sight of the pool, my brother and Dad's excitement at the free sparkling wine in the foyer (they don't even drink the stuff, but free alcohol is free alcohol and they certainly made the most of it), my Mum actually taking a minute to herself relaxing by the pool and my Sister in Law not answering phone calls from work every hour. It's amazing that a hotel an hours drive away can feel like a whole other world, it gave us all a break from cancer for a few days, it's as if it didn't exist and that's a wonderful gift you can give a family that faces the thought of death every day, a break from reality.
With every Christmas that goes by, I wonder how and when will I die? This year has been full of ups and downs, Emergency Department visits, ICU admissions, palliative ward admissions, lots of pain and extreme tiredness, pain relief, radiation, immunotherapy trials, nausea, regurgitation, I've spent lots of time with those I love, friends and family from near and far, was in a friend's reality show, started my blog, made lots of new friends in you fabulous rockstars, visited Broome with my parents, swanned through the birdcage like an actual swan and although the year has been harder than easier, I go to bed every night thanking God that I'm still alive and when I wake in the morning I thank him again for keeping me going through the night, I honestly feel so lucky when I open my eyes that I get this feeling of excitement akin to a kid on Christmas morning, my heart literally skips a beat.
Another family trip notch on our belt and here's to us celebrating the same anniversary next year.
Stay Fabulous Rockstars ❤️🤘🏼🎄
So I met this lovely woman just over a month ago called Hayley and she asked to interview me for a local magazine. I of course was all excited and felt all special that I was doing my first legitimate, meet in a coffee shop, be asked questions, maybe get a photo, proper interview.
Hayley arrived and we began to chat back and forth and all the while I was thinking "is she ever going to ask me a question? This isn't going how I pictured it, it's more like a chat than an interview". As we exchanged stories and I talked all things terminal cancer, Hayley dropped a bomb, that she too may have cancer and would be finding out after a biopsy in the following days exactly what she was dealing with. Excuse me while I choke on my English Breakfast Tea, black with two raw sugars, what the actual fuck? You reach out to me to do an interview on cancer and then find out you have some sort of breast cancer, cue my anthem Alanis Morissette's Ironic, because this shit doesn't happen in real life, sort of like a real life meet cute, only we're not going to become lovers, we're going to become kind of cancer buddies.
Hayley went in for a biopsy a few days later, fast forward to today and she is one boob short, bald and I've just returned home from visiting her whilst she was getting her second cycle of chemo, celebrating her 29th birthday with a home made cake that her Mum lovingly made for her, her chemo nurses and her chemo buddy for the day her sister Lauren.
For any of you out there that have had chemo before you'll understand exactly what I am about to say. The car trip into the hospital to visit her, I started to feel terribly nauseated at the thought of going into that room again with pale, bald, sickly looking people with the stench of chemo floating through the air. You're probably thinking this sounds terribly selfish of me
thinking of myself while she's going through this horrible ordeal, but people who have had chemo, remembering I've had numerous different types, often get "Chemo Anxiety", they get it when they see needles, have to be cannulated or give blood, I've even been told of a woman projectile vomiting in the street when she came face to face with her oncologist from 20 years prior. I used to get it every time I had to return to my oncology ward to be scanned every 3 months, I haven't had it since, so I was surprised when I started to get those horrible chemo nausea like symptoms in the car.
As I sat next to Hayley and Lauren as Hayley was being cannulated and that vile poison started to pulse through her veins, I had to push down the vomit in my throat, I was back in the chair on my first day of chemo, when I had no idea what lay ahead of me and thought in the first few hours, this shits easy, what does everyone complain about? I got this, Chemo's my bitch! Six hours later, with my head in a sick bag, feeling like I'd just been hit by a bus, I realised I was Chemo's bitch.
I left Hayley this afternoon and all that's been going through my head since are thoughts like the horrible pain and headaches I got when I started to lose my hair, YES IT HURTS!!!!! I couldn't lay my head on a pillow because my head was so sensitive, I could feel the weight of every strand of hair, it felt like I had weights tied into my hair, pulling and dragging on my scalp. I shaved it within days of that feeling, I couldn't deal with it on top of the horrendous sickness, tiredness and feeling of death that hung over me.
As soon as I got home I had to get Mum to inject me with a sickness Med and as I sit here and type, I am feeling as sick as a dog again, so whilst I bitch and moan about the way I feel at the thought of chemo, lets spare a thought for Hayley and the thousands of other men and women who at this exact moment have their heads in the toilet and know that in a couple of weeks they have to face up to it again. I salute you!
Stay fabulous rockstars ❤️🤘🏼
Ps. Hayley did in actual fact interview me, it was also published and Hayley also has a blog, hit it up when you get the chance, I'm sure you won't regret it!
Here's the link ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️
So last night I had pain in the sight that my pain medication driver is inserted, so my Dad, not unlike my mum has become a part-time nurse/doctor and he has learnt how to insert the line into my stomach. I turn my medication driver off whilst he inserts the new line and then usually turn the machine back on.........well last night I forgot to turn it back on and I had to wake up a couple of times to have break through medicine because of pain, not even realising the whole time my machine was still off. Morning came and I woke up in a lot of unusual pain........ding on goes the light bulb in my head, you dickhead you forgot to turn the driver back on.
Here comes the kicker, so I am not feeling fabulous, very tired and in more pain than usual, but I have my good friend Mel and her Mum coming over to see me and go out for lunch. I feel like I've just sat through a 24 hour interview with Donald Trump, so I have a headache of epic proportions, I feel like I've just played a marathon match with Andy Murray and like I've just read War and Peace from start to finish, so I could sleep for Australia. I have to make the call, do I still do lunch feeling like death warmed up or do I make the "actual" call and cancel and feel like an absolute shit friend for cancelling at the last minute. Faaaark I hate this, alright a few deep breaths and hiiiiiiiit call, bla bla bla bla bla, hang up, feel like the worst friend ever, proceed to text her about said guilt and worst friend ever status, text a couple of I hate myself messages back and forth and then spend the rest of the day in pain, tired and feeling guilty.
Cancelling is something I try not to do, unless I am in hospital and there is no possible way that I can go out. I will try and push myself to go out, especially considering Mel was up from Sydney and I don't get to see her as often as I'd like too, but there comes a point in your illness where you have to put yourself first and everything else second, but it's a lot harder than you would think.
People say it's alright your friend will understand, they get it, but even if they do understand, that doesn't mean they don't get hurt by it. Of course they do, it's still rejection and rejection is not pleasant no matter what the reason.
So please for all the friends and family of people who are ill, whether it be cancer or some other type of chronic illness like chronic fatigue syndrome or rheumatoid arthritis, if they cancel at the last minute, pleeeeeease understand they have most likely agonised over the decision to do so for hours, picking the phone up, putting it back down, looking in the mirror giving themselves cancellation pep talks,
re-running how the conversation will go in their head. I just had a micro sleep as I type, so I would have been no good to anyone in this state.
Cancer cancellation anxiety, CCA as I like to call it. People in our position find it hard to make plans for anything, we can book that trip down to Melbourne in 3 weeks time, but there is no guarantee we'll be well enough to go, we are unable to make plans like other people can. There comes a point in our illness where we have to realise we aren't the same person we were prior to diagnosis, we can't always keep plans, we can't drink like we used to, exercise like we used to, root like we used to (sorry family), we have to come to terms with that and it's bloody hard, so my advice for friends of a "sick" person is please allow for these cancellation's without question or suggestion. If your friend has rung you saying they're just not up to it, if they thought they were up to something else they'd suggest it, so please don't do the "well how about I just come around with a boxset and bottle of Wine and chocolates, let me be your nurse, you don't have to get dressed, bla bla bla, if we wanted to do that, we'd suggest it, all that does is put us in a position where we feel we have to say yes and then feel like shit the whole time you're here, while we count the hours away until season 3 of Mad Men's over. We get it and we appreciate it, you think you're doing the right thing, the honourable thing, but sometimes we just have to say no because our bodies and our minds just aren't up to it, we love you for wanting to be with us, but it's not always doable.
To those of you who are in the unenviable position of being the ill person having to cancel, I think we all have to give ourselves a good kick up the ass and just get over it, you're not frigging Super Woman/Man, you are a human being who happens to have a terminal or chronic illness that has restraints and its limits. If your friends can't understand that, well maybe it's time you get new friends or something a little less drastic and perhaps have a chat with them, to keep them up to speed with where you are in your health status. Friends aren't mind readers, you can't just expect them to know that you've deteriorated, especially, like so many of us do, if you keep your deterioration from them.
So to the person cancelling Man the F up and to the person being cancelled on Man the F up. The End!
Stay fabulous rockstars ❤️🤘🏼
Ps. I love you and I'm sorry Mel, Marg and Alex ❤️❤️❤️
My name is Lisa Magill and I have been navigating the minefield that is cancer since just months after turning 30, people have been saying to me for years that I should put my thoughts into writing and as time has progressed I thought I had left it too late, well here we are nearly 4 years in and for some unknown reason I've decided to start to write today.