Don’t make me laugh

So it’s my first evening back at home and we decide it would be a great idea to watch an episode of Faulty Towers. Richard is home with his new girlfriend and she has never seen Faulty Towers (oh the youth of today they haven’t lived) so as a family we sit around the TV my Mom, Steve, Richard, Rebecca Louise and I. We are watching the German episode and I can’t laugh, the more I can’t laugh cos it hurts the more Steve laughs at me which makes me laugh and around we go. I never did watch the end of the episode as I couldn’t cope, tears of laughter albeit at my expense were heard again in the house.

Richard was home for the weekend to look after his mom, bless him. So what did he do? yes he stayed away from me in his bedroom with Louise. Now I don’t blame him at all wanting to be with his new love but oh how it hurt.
They stayed upstairs for hours only coming down for meals, they said they were watching films but never asked if I wanted to watch them with me downstairs.
We are all used to Richard coming and going in and out of our lives with his job in the Army. He is larger than life itself, he comes and goes bringing laughter, joy and trauma and then goes away again and we just play the waiting game until he returns.
My boy, my boy and I need him to sit with me, talk to me, just to be with me but no I’m a sleeping thing on the sofa with no interest to a young man full of energy, oh how that weekend hurt. Why can your kids hurt you the most when they don’t really see you or was that the problem that no one wanted to see what was left of me and what was to come.

The weekend past with my mom cooking, Rebecca in her bedroom and Steve turning into my showering partner where I had to sit on a stool to wash, I can’t lift or squeeze bottles and just getting in and out of the shower took effort. Walking up the stairs I was out of breath and drying my hair could only be achieved by sitting down. A cripple, relying on my loved ones for everything. I was the strong one, I was the worker, I was the cook, I was the cleaner, I was the domestic organiser and the words I was echo and echo and echo. When would I be strong again, when would my life resume, when would I be myself again?

Steve seemed to want me to face everything full on and didn’t seem to like anything that reminded him of the operation. I was given a cough pillow to use to support my stomach but he said I didn’t need it, he wanted me to take off my plasters and face the scars but I didn’t want to face them. He was doing this out of love and was focused on getting me strong again physically and mentally but I just wasn’t ready.
I had to inject myself everyday after my evening meal and Rebecca took on the job of making sure I was stabbing myself on time, bless her as she must have felt all of the roles in the house were taken.
As Richard left that weekend he said that he didn’t know how we would cope without him, we have laughed about that many a time since and of course we did cope, we had to, no choice as normal.

Published by

Wend

Married to Steve, I have two children - Rebecca and Richard. Steve has two children, Lauren and Chris. Rebecca lives with us (nurse Rebecca) and my mom Judy also has become nurse and housekeeper but lives in the West Midlands. My son is in the Army and comes home when he can. I am 47, born in 1967 and I was told I had bowel cancer on 22nd Feb 2015 and this blog is my journey through it. I hope it helps you as you were the reason I started it.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>