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Soda Pop

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It was a bit exciting in our home when Gecko Press sent us “Soda Pop”, a ‘chapter book’ to review! We love reviewing picture books, but my eldest two sons have moved on to independently reading chapter books now. They still like picture books, age doesn’t discriminate when it comes to children’s literature, especially when it’s read aloud. I’ve read a picture book to 50 adults before and had them captivated. As much as the big boys will still listen to many of the picture books and enjoy them, but the longer stories are exciting them more at the moment and Soda Pop certainly did not disappoint.

Soda Pop is a classic Swedish children’s novel and an absurd tale in a world where anything can happen. I immediately liked the thought of my children getting to know a classic tale from a different country, not because they would learn anything about Sweden,especially when this story as the setting is very much imaginary, after all, I am sure that most father’s in Sweden do not wear bright orange clothes and tea cosies on their head unlike Soda Pop. A classic from another country simply gives access to another time honoured favourite that might be slightly different in flavour and delivery.

Jonty read the book enthusiastically. It was one of those books when your child begs you to stay up late to keep reading. I for one am a complete sucker and happily gave a bedtime extensions in the interest of promoting literacy, especially when the novel has your child giggling with glee as he flicks the pages. Watching him get such enjoyment from a book warmed the cockles of my heart. It also made him late for school the next morning, which I perhaps was not so happy about. I must note though, when my children are disobedient because they are reading it’s easier for me to extend them grace compared to other misdemeanours. Advantages of having a mother who is a book worm I guess!

I think one of the reasons this story was so appealing was thanks to the pure absurdity of the storyline and characters. The main characters are Soda Pop, a preposterous father raising his son Mazarin on sweet buns and love. There is also the eccentric Greandfayher Dartanyong who emerged every morning from his woodshed with a new identity. So in such a bizarre context, why wouldn’t a Great-grandfather move into a tree, eat birdseed and think he is a cuckoo? And why would such a motley crew not trap a group of tigers in a barn but not be surprised when the tigers escape and hang out at the bottom of a pool in a car? And when all these antics are accompanied by fanciful illustrations, a child’s imagination is truly ignited.

Soda Pop Illustrations

I asked him what I should say about this book in a review. He replied, “You can tell everyone that this book is CRAZY!” He hastily added, “The good type of crazy, that is!”

I must say Astrid Lindgren, the author of Pippi Longstocking, agreed with Jonty’s claim that the story was crazy. Her review says, “There’s a sublime sort of craziness to it that catches me unaware every time. Neither Soda Pop nor Mazarin nor Dartanying speaks a single word of sense, but they will be my friends for life.”

I would highly recommend this book if your child delights in off beat humour and nonsense where usual rules and prejudices don’t exist. This story has withstood the test of time and is so loved in Sweden that it has be turned into a stop-motion animation series, a cartoon, a play, an opera and a comic book. I think a whole new group of children are going to fall in love with the characters in this first English edition.

The post Soda Pop appeared first on Caitlin's Happy Heart.


Hi! I’m Still Alive

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Hi! I thought I should get on and type a blog and let you know that I’m still alive.

Caitlin and kids
Mothers Day 2018 with my precious children.

Which is something we flippantly say when we haven’t been around for awhile.

But when you have cancer, you don’t just flippantly say this. All of a sudden the fact that you are still alive is news. It makes you realise that we shouldn’t be flippant about how fantastic it is to be alive each day. Life is a gift that we receive each day when we open our eyes and we should put our heart and soul into living, especially when we have the privilege of living it with a healthy body.

I’m happy to report that I am living life with a healthy body. I am a cancer survivor. A cancer survivor! Woo Hoo! What a sweet label that is.

Since I discovered cancer last year, I have undergone treatment after having a thymic carcinoma tumour surgically removed. I then had radiation and chemotherapy as an insurance in case any microscopic cancer cells had lingered in my body. Since completing my radiation and chemo regime at the end of October last year, I’ve had 3 CT scans that have shown zero cancer in my body. I’m officially in remission and by the grace of God I am remaining this way.

I thank God for the medical and scientific brains that have discovered and refined radiation and chemotherapy and the healing powers it has brought so many lives. Even if the treatment itself can be brutal. I am grateful that for much of my treatment I had low side effects. Thank you to everyone who has been praying for my family and I. I have valued every prayer that I knew was prayed and those I didn’t even realise that were being sent up to Heaven on my behalf. To be prayed for by those who love you, even if they have never met you, is like a big warm comforting hug.

When I started the second treatment with the higher dose of chemo, I was told that I would need help for the duration of the treatment and beyond as I would be far too sick to function. I am so grateful this was not the case. We had lined someone up to help us in the home and with the children, an even though she did work a few times at first, which did help, even if things weren’t quite the way I had asked. Before long though the little millennial we enlisted soon signed out without a word and stopped answering phone calls. So, we were on our own for the most part. We were very grateful for every meal that was delivered,it was particularly a relief to have meals on chemo days and a couple of days afterwards when I was particularly tired. Our volunteer ironing lady who had helped out so much when the triplets were young quietly reappeared in our lives. We have family that stepped in and help out to fill in the gaps which made all the difference on those days when Alex and I couldn’t quite do everything. They also helped proved the emotional stability that our kids needed.

I was tired, I had an aching body quite often, ran temperatures, but thankfully never so high that it put me in hospital, and became quite a grumpy Mummy and wife quite regularly. I really wish I wasn’t so snappy, it was the hardest part of being sick last year, trying to regulate my unstable emotions, often just due to being so tired, while running a household with five young children. But at the end of the day, I’m so grateful that we made it through. I was able to pick children up from school most days, Alex did many of the drop offs because often I was just too tired to get out of bed, and would just get up to pack five lunch boxes before they scampered out to the car. Homework might have been a bit hit and miss, and we strategically dropped some of the after school activities (but even still, me and my covered bald head was often standing on the sidelines during soccer season last year!) but they arrived at school dressed and fed and able to function, and you realise that sometimes that alone is enough. In fact, it’s a triumph!

I am so grateful beyond measure of my amazing husband. He was such a rock of support throughout it all. It’s so good when you have a husband who can just get in and help out without making a huge issue about it. Alex is truly amazing and kept us all afloat last year.

The last round of chemotherapy really hit me for six. I was felt so sick and so tired that I could barely function. The four weeks after that treatment was the hardest of all, but all the more exhausting as it was November so we were doing all the things necessary for the end of school year. The children were tired from the end of school year and on edge due to all the testing at school. Then it was the blur of end of year activities and before we knew it, holidays had started and then Christmas was upon us. The holidays were tiring, but thankfully I was regaining strength, even enough to host Christmas, which I planned to do the year prior, and was very grateful that we managed to pull it off!

Christmas Dessert
Dessert on Christmas day

I was so relieved when school resumed though. I don’t know if I could have kept going even another week! But maybe that’s because I was hanging out for a particular day. Getting five kids ready for school with all the book covering, pencil naming etc. etc. is always exhausting, but even more so when your body is still recovering from a tumultuous year. In any case I was so grateful to be able to rest for a little bit during the day when I needed to and finally I stopped feeling exhausted all the time.

Early in February Alex and I made a long weekend for ourselves, sent the children out to stay on the farm with the grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins (one of their favourite places in the world) and we flew to Melbourne for a romantic interlude to celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary that had passed in January. It felt like a reward for surviving last year and I lapped up the luxury of the whole mini-holiday. Maybe because I was feeling so relaxed, and also because the Australian summer was heating up, I decided to ditch the turban and start going out in public with my super short hair.

Alex and Caitlin Melbourne

Since then it has been the usual round of family life. We’ve been doing a lot of catch up appointments of all the things that were missed last year as well as regaining our regular routine and stepping up the children’s responsibilities. (Why is making children do jobs such hard work for ourselves?) I’ve begun working again with a contract job I’ve had with our local university for quite some time, and I’ve updated my teacher’s registration and dipped my toes in the relief teaching waters.

Since I’ve got over the effects of the cancer treatments, I’ve been able to focus on helping my back to recover also after my scoliosis surgery (which is when everything began). I’ve been seeing a wonderful physio and trying to be faithful at doing my exercises to regain back strength. I’ve been trying to increase my exercise in general to help with strengthening my back but it also helps improve your chance of long term cancer survival. My chest still hurts on occasion thanks to the sternoctomy last year, but everything has healed correctly and I’ve been warned I might always have a niggly feeling that will remind me that my breastbone was sliced in half.

Life has been trundling away keeping us all busy, and I never have got back into the pattern of blogging again. I contacted a blogging friend recently and made an off hand comment that I wished I had seen her more often since she had moved to a city closer to where I live. She tentatively asked how my health was as she had been worried this comment might have been linked to a final farewell. It made me realise that I need to apologise to all of you who have prayed and sent well wishes our way and have been wondering how we have been progressing.

I can’t believe it is the middle of the year already. Life really does fly when you are having fun! And what a delight that there has been so much fun in this year. It’s crazy how you can cherish life so much, while still being caught in the whirlwind of busyness and the frustrations of parenthood. I’m just grateful I’m healthy enough to be there for my kids, whether it’s listening to them chatter, giving them kisses and cuddles, making them groan as I wake them in the morning or annoying them with job requests and homework and piano practice reminders/ultimatums. Of course, the cuddles and the chattering is my favourite things to do as a healthy Mummy.

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The post Hi! I’m Still Alive appeared first on Caitlin's Happy Heart.

Why 2017 was not a Crap Year

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2017 was a big year for me. I had two major surgeries and a 3rd minor surgery. I was diagnosed with cancer and received radiation and chemotherapy. As the year concluded lots of people made comments to me about how I must be glad to kick 2017 goodbye after such a crap year.

I refuse to label last year as a crap year. I’m not going to pretend that it was easy. But… How can I possibly label it as crappy when during that year I saw so many bright moments during the darkness or witnessed and experienced some of the kindest, selfless and skilled actions of our world’s amazing humankind?

Caitlin's Happy Heart
Mummy and Imogen celebrating her 6th birthday.

How could I possibly call 2017 a crap year when I witnessed so much beauty from people, events, resources, moments?

A husband who stays by your side no matter what.
The life changing transformative power of skilled surgeons and their supporting medical teams.
The dedication and care of amazing nurses.
The privilege of exemplary medical facilities and services.
The stupendous power of painkillers.
The excited faces of children each time they are reunited with their Mummy.
Family and friends who visit to cheer you up or just to be present.
A GP who is an amazing support during post-op care.
A church who cheers you on, lifts you up in prayer and helps out in practical ways.
A husband who doesn’t complain with all the extra jobs he needs to do because you can’t do much at all.
People who arrive at your house to scrub your toilet, wash your floors, do your ironing, clean the mould from your bathroom roof, etc. etc. etc.
School teachers who send emails to update you of your child’s progress during your absence and send you a get well card from a class and flowers from the school.
The kindness in the tone of a surgeon who tells you for the first time that there is cancer in your body.
Friends who decipher your gobblededook texts when you are high on meds asking for prayer.
Friends and family who pray.
People who pray for you even though they don’t know you.
Answered prayers.
A GP who will return your call within 2 minutes after hearing you have been diagnosed with cancer and give you all the advice you need.
People who send little gifts to cheer you up.
People who watch out for your kids and make sure they are OK when you can’t do it.
People who deliver a meal or baked goods that keep you and your family sustained.
Parents, Siblings and In-Laws who pause their lives to be there for myself, the kids and hubby.
People who offer grace when you are being unreasonable or short tempered.
A husband who loves you through the good, bad and the ugly.
Children who are resilient and strong.

The Triplet's 6th Birthday
The Triplet’s 6th Birthday

 

2017 proved to me that I am strong. It’s a powerful thing to have your strength proven.

I was strong enough to plan for my temporary absence from family life and set up strategies for my family to carry on in my absence and reduced capacity.
I was strong enough to walk into a hospital and submit my body to painful experiences knowing it would result in greater good.
I was strong enough to lay in ICU and allow myself to be completely cared for knowing that weakness leads to strength.
I was strong enough to be a nice patient.
I was strong enough to sit, stand and start walking (and go to the toilet) only days after a 6 hour operation where two titanium rods were screwed into my spine.
I was strong enough to be genuinely interested in others even when everything was hurting.
I was strong enough to know that laughter is a good medicine.
I was strong enough to know that tears are sometimes necessary for healing.
I was strong enough to have determination to do all I physically could to heal.
I was strong enough to pause and do nothing so I could heal.
I was strong enough to imagine my children without a mother even though I pray it will never happen.
I was strong enough to discuss with my husband what life would be like without me in it.
I was strong enough to accept help.
I was strong enough to gracefully reject offers to help when I knew it wasn’t going to be helpful for my family or I.
I was strong enough to celebrate my children’s birthdays even when I was physically exhausted to the max.
I was strong enough to make super dooper birthday cakes and presentable costumes for school despite being in the midst of tiring chemo and radiation regimes.
I was strong enough to apologise for the times I did things the wrong way.
I was strong enough to laugh.
I was strong enough to never stop loving fiercely.
I was strong enough to never stop believing and find strength in my faith.

Mummy and Trent
Mummy and Trent

There were multitudes of challenges throughout that year. Not only myself, but also for my family to walk through. Cancer and major health issues don’t affect just an individual, especially when you’re a Mum. We muddled through them together. The name on this blog rings true. My heart is happy. (But I am grateful that 2018 hasn’t been as challenging as last year!)

If you are walking alongside a loved one who is having a hard time right now or watching someone from afar. Be assured that there is so much you can do to help. Don’t underestimate the power of  kindness. Be encouraged that sometimes all you need to do is turn up listen, help or do your job well and it will make all the difference in somebody’s life. Go the extra mile to show kindness even when it’s inconvenient.

If you are going through a rough time, be reassured. Suffering can be a gift. It makes you realise all the blessings in your life. It can increase your faith or give you faith. It makes you stronger. It can give you hope in Eternity. It can give you confidence in the existence and reality of God.

We are half way through 2018. What can you do to make the world a better place for those around you? Whether 2018 is a remarkable year or a tough year for you, pause. Appreciate the beauty. It is easily found when you stop and look. All around us, every day, there is always enough joy to create some happiness in your heart.

 

 

The post Why 2017 was not a Crap Year appeared first on Caitlin's Happy Heart.

A hacker stole my blog and my mojo

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This year is not turning out anything like expected.

I had goals, I had high ambitions! I had fantasised about this year and looked forward to this year! Oh the things I could do with the extra time I gained while the triplets were at Kindy!!! And one of the things I most looked forward to was blogging more. Those posts, constantly being written in my head would finally be there on the screen. Words dancing and being read by thousands! (I did tell you I fantasised about this year.)

But this has not been. And I am sad about this.

The little tale of woe starts with a fiend. Let’s tell this tale the old fashioned theatrical way. Every time you read the word, hacker I want you to yell “Boo”. You may hiss also if you wish.

I had been struggling to get back into the groove. Finally, I thought I had a plan and I re-entered the blogosphere triumphantly declaring to myself that I was back and you would hear from me at least weekly. I wrote a second blog. Yeah baby, starting is always good.

Then it appeared I dropped off the side of planet blog. Into dark, dark, oblivion.

Appearances aren’t always what they seem. The scandal is, I did not drop off the planet. I was pushed. By a hacker. (BOO, HISS!)

Why? Seriously, why? It’s not like I had credit cards to steal on my site. It’s not like my site was a major intersection for internet traffic. No, it was just a tiny little cottage that I hung out with and a few people would come around and read and drink cups of tea with me on occasion. A pretty little place, but not terribly important. But the hacker (BOO, HISS) thought, “Oh, I am going to throw rocks at the window of the little cottage and see if they break.” They broke.
The hacker (BOO, HISS) thought, “I am going to spray paint the wall of this little cottage and pull up all the flowers.” And then the hacker changed the locks, barricaded the door, threw landmines inside the broken windows and all over what was once a pretty little garden and ran away.

Basically hacking is online vandalism. Pointless. A moments thrill for the hacker (BOO, HISS) and plenty of pain for the owner.

Tech is not my thing. Writing is my thing. The tech side of blogging. Not my favourite. I’m kind of clueless. So when I was shut out of my blog. I didn’t know how to get back in. When I got some help to open the door, we kept standing on landmines and the blog would shut down again. It happened so often that my web host disowned me. I got a phone call on Easter Saturday evening from my web host saying they didn’t like me and they weren’t going to host me anymore. Just like that. After two months of phone calls where they would “accidentally” hang up, I finally got a refund at least.

Luckily I had recognised my host was useless and was already in the process of moving hosts, so I had everything backed up and ready to go. I can’t believe I didn’t get to walk out in a huff.

Also, very luckily my little brother, who these days is in fact my big, very tall brother, had come to my rescue. He was my gallant knight in shinging armour (HOORAY!) coming to the rescue in this tale, and thanks to him and one of his skilled sidekicks, my little blog was restored and ready to proceed.

Except that darn hacker (BOO, HISS) had stolen my mojo. It is very difficult to locate stolen mojos.

We are now hitting the half way mark of the year. Can you believe it?

Here’s hoping my mojo is back and here to stay. (WILD APPLAUSE, CHEERS OF ENCOURAGEMENT.)

 

Postscript: As it turns out, by writing this post I’ve discovered another landmine. The hackers has taken away my ability to post photos on my blog. I’m emailing my brother immediately so he can gallop to my rescue. But in the meantime, I’m posting anyway, because it’s good for the mojo to post. Take that dastardly hacker.
Postscript of the Postscript: You can see one photo on the front page of my blog as it turns out. This one needed a caption – it’s the only one I could find before the kids wake up with my brother and I in the one frame. While I’ve been mojo-less we went to the zoo! That’s my immediate family. I’ve only got one brother, you can see why I’m the little sister now. 

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Excuses

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I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. This year has not been anything like I expected. It has not been a bad year. There’s been low points, but there has been many high points also. Busyness has simply been the main culprit for this year’s departure from my expectations. I have read online articles attacking our seeming addiction to being busy and that make me feel guilty. Truthfully, I’d love to be less busy, but do you know what? I think it’s impossible for me to do anything less right now. Honestly, I’ve searched for things to remove from my plate. Blogging, you may have noticed, to be one thing that has (hopefully temporarily) disappeared from the real life dining experience.

For the most part, there’s not much I can take away. Having young children, and a lot of them at that, just has certain responsibilities that need to be met. Those little mouths keep begging for food no matter how hard I try to avoid making dinner.  Although the little bodies certainly don’t demand to be dressed, (due to the childish delight in a good nudie run), eventually the little bodies need to be clothed, and therefore clothing that is required to be washed (and possibly ironed).

Apart from housework, I do have other reasons excuses that are keeping me busy. I’m going to list them for the record, since there is not too much here detailing the happenings of 2016.

  • Work. It finally occurred to me the other day that I really am a working mother. I hadn’t been giving myself credit for this because the majority of  my work is from home. I asked for an increased amount of work this year, and they certainly supplied me with it. It’s chewed up all the time I had planned to do more exciting stuff. But in return I got money. Money is good.
  • Toastmasters. Have you heard of Toastmasters? It’s an international group that develops communication and leadership skills. Primarily through developing public speaking skills. I joined two years ago, and have been loving it. (If anyone has a speaking gig, I’m your gal!) This year I’ve become the President of our club, which has taken a little bit more time, although thankfully we have a really experienced and committed executive which makes my job easier. It also takes a bit of time to write speeches and present them. But it’s paying dividends. Recently I won first place in our local area conference for a humorous speech. Yay!
  • Husband. The Accountant has set up his own firm. Free plug here. Here’s really busy working looooong hours. We are so proud of him and the clients keep trickling in, and he bends over backwards to give the best possible service. It does change the dynamics on the home front sometimes though.
  • Grandfather. My grandfather passed away in August. He had been suffering with dementia for years, but the finality of death is another issue to walk through. It also takes a bit of time helping prepare for a funeral, but it’s also an honour to remember and commemorate a man who was important to me as well.
  • Bushwalking. I’m proud to report from my New Year’s Resolutions the one that I’ve kept is monthly walks with our family. Alex and I are loving it. The kids not quite as much because they don’t deem it as playtime and they are jealous about Saturday playtime. Never mind, we drag them along nonetheless and once they are out in the great outdoors, they mostly forget to complain. (Until the final few hundred metres anyway.)
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Our September bushwalk was climbing Mt. Coolum. So proud of the kids efforts. Little champions!
  • Health. I’ve been terribly sick throughout the year. (And years prior to this as it turns out.) I started having regular (monthly that became almost weekly) labour-like abdominal pain and violent vomiting episodes we and finally discovered that I had been making a rock garden in my gall bladder. Within two days of seeing a surgeon these rocks were removed and became the talk of the hospital ward for their dazzling size. I was blessed that we got them just prior to bursting. In addition to that I have ongoing issues with scoliosis. The deterioration of my spine is becoming significant as I get older and is causing me quite a bit of pain. We’ve planned surgery early next year to prevent the curve from continuing to worsen in the future. That will be major. Gulp.
  • Reading. This one is purely recreational and enjoyable. But since I’ve got out of the routine of blogging, (and when I just can’t move because of my back) I’ve been picking up my beloved books a lot more. Not that I’ve ever stopped reading because of blogging, I just have read more this year. I think my favourite so far has been “The Golden Prince” by Rebecca Dean just for being a good enjoyable light read in a genre that I enjoy. (Historical Fiction) I also really enjoyed “The Dressmaker” by Rosalie Ham.
  • Dog. Our beloved labrador got sick in April. It was so emotionally draining watching him struggle and we thought we would have to put him down. In the end, he was able to have a simple surgical procedure that he responded to. But he may have had an underlying issue such as cancer. He wasn’t in huge amounts of pain, but he wasn’t completely OK. He died peacefully in his sleep about two weeks ago. The kids showed their remarkable resilience as we worked through the issues dealing with death and grief.
    bronco
  • School and Kindy. I’ve helped out at school and kindy a little bit. Not as much as I might have expected. (See all of the above.) But a bit of reading here, literacy there and an excursion thrown in here and there and your days tend to disappear!

Well that’s my excuses. Of course I could fill you in with school holiday activities, mini getaways and all the other types of things that fills our days, like making a birthday and a wedding cake last week, but I think this has been a good little catch up. What have you been doing in 2016?

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2016 Christmas Books

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I love the Christmas season, and reading Christmas books is always a feature during our December celebrations. During the past two years I have wrapped books and labelled a child’s name to open each day during the advent. (See reports from 2014 and 2015 about how we did this.) I had every intention of doing this again this year. But do you know what, some years, (particularly this year!) you just can’t do everything. I think I wrapped up five days worth of books on about day 3 for a late start, and then we stalled again until this morning when Elvey, our Elf on the Shelf, brought another five wrapped books, and that will be all this Christmas. Most of this mornings books were new which also made it special since we haven’t been doing it everyday. Scholastic has gifted us with some delightful Christmas books for review, and I also couldn’t resist making a few bookclub purchases to add to our collection. For instance, every Christmas collection should include The Grinch!

Pig the Elf

Can I tell you how excited I was when I saw that Pig the Pug had joined in the Christmas festivities? VERY! I think the Pig the Pug books are just great. They had me from “Well, pigs just don’t fly” on the first book, and I haven’t been disappointed during subsequent stories. It turns out Pig is a huuuuuge fan of Christmas. I don’t know why that came as a surprise for me, after all he’s a greddy Pig, and Christmas can be associated with greed, you know all those chances to write lists and get presents as such. Anyway, as usual, Pig’s greed got him into a hilarious predicament which I’m sure would make any child laugh. The kids at my local playgroup certainly thought it was a winner when I read it to them. (At my final playgroup after 8 years of playgrouping before the kids start school next year. Yikes!) It’s a perfect book for a springboard for talking to your child about Christmas spirit, and manners! A lovely fun way to encourage thankfulness and the true spirit behind gift giving.

Pig the Elf

 

Sleigh Ride

A classic Christmas song sung by Human Nature plus featuring Jessica Mauboy, you can’t beat a kids book with a song that’s easy listening for Mummy’s ears too! This book has wonderful Australian illustrations to accompany the song. Of course being Aussie the scene is at the beach and the sleigh is a trailer. Perfect! Not to mention the tune itself is one of the most played Christmas carols of all time, an age old favourite. I loved it that when we first listened to the CD Imogen was waltzing around the room with the cat. It’s the kind of music you simply want to dance or sing along with.

Sleigh Ride

I want a Hippopotamus for Christmas

I’m told this is a well known song. I have never heard of it! Should I admit that? Considering the song was released in 1953 (the year my Dad was born) I don’t know how I’ve missed it!
I want a Hippopotamus for ChristmasIn any case Miranda Tapsell (I do love her in the TV series, “Love Child”) has recorded a lovely rendition of the tune. Not that I’ve heard other renditions, but I’m confident it would have to be right up there! We’ve recently had a little kitten join our family. Our kids are totally smitten with the kitten, so the fact that this story features a kitten writing a letter to Santa is going to be a winner. The kids are pretty focussed on all things kitten right now thanks a new little kitty in our household.

How The Grinch Stole Christmas

When I saw this title in the Scholastic bookclub catalogue I couldn’t resist buying what has become a Christmas children’s classic. Plus, once again there is a lovely lesson encouraging generosity and taking the focus off the things we get at Christmas and focussing on what the true spirit of Christmas is.

The Grinch Who Stole Christmas

Rosie the Ruby Fairy.

We have so many male oriented book on our shelves, that I thought it would be nice to have one that is slightly more girly for Immy, so picked this up from the Scholastic catalogue. Plus, thanks to a delightful fairy garden at Kindy Imogen is completely in love with fairies this year. Rosie the Ruby Fairy is a delightful little story. She’s a manager of the post office at Sparkle town and uses her special ruby want to prepare all the town’s post, including the very important letters to Santa Claus. Except this year she accidentally sends the letters to the wrong place so has to hand deliver the letters to the North Pole itself. I know that even though my girl is going to be charmed by the fairies efforts, the boys will also enjoy the story also. I love that there is also a theme about being patient and persistant to do the right thing and it shows that even if we make mistakes we can fix them and move on.

Rosie the Ruby Fairy

I highly recommend any of these books, particularly if you would like to pick up a special book to read on Christmas Eve or even tuck in a Santa sack for Christmas morning. We have also read copious amounts of Christmas library books though, so there’s always a cheap option with your pre-Christmas reading. Christmas is such a joyous way of encouraging literacy.

Merry Christmas!

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Adult Scoliosis – Prior to Surgery

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I can’t remember how or when we found out I had scoliosis. It was sometime when I was 16. A long time ago after living with adult scoliosis for many years now. I can remember the horrifying first x-ray that confirmed my young body housed a spine that was bent and twisted like an ancient olive tree. I have what is referred to as a “S shaped curve.” (Some scoliosis patients alternatively have spines shaped like a “C”.) That teenage X-ray became a defining moment in my life. The beginning of visits to doctor’s and surgeons, chiropractors and physios. In the initial days, there were merely hints of the pain I would become all to familiar with in the future and recognition that there were certain physical limitations creating boundaries for the life I lived.

Scoliosis curve
A more X ray of my spine. You can see the top curve is 46 degrees and the bottom curve is 64 degrees.

Boundaries can create barriers but they need not limit achievement. It has been over 25 years since my scoliosis was diagnosed, and I have lived a productive life despite the limitations my bent spine has created. But the time has come to take action. As an adult in my early 40’s this is the eve before I have surgery to correct the curve in my spine. It was a surgery that was recommended during those teenage years, and the decision not to proceed with receiving Harrington rods was made with a great deal of thought and consideration by my parents. In the end, they were not prepared to accept the risks associated with surgery.

At the time I was relieved I would not miss large chunks of school and risk not graduating with my class. I was also a little fearful of living with scoliosis, I had been listening to the doctor’s descriptions of life with uncorrected scoliosis certainly did not sound entirely appetising for youth’s insatiable appetite for unbridled freedom. I accepted my parent’s decision, knowing they had made it in love and then got on with living.

Pain was a given, but didn’t hinder me at first. As the years marched onwards the pain weaned me to its ever increasing presence. Like all things gradual there was mute acceptance of the ever present presence of pain, just as there was acceptance of my increasing limitations due to the recurrent existence of pain, my travel companion in life. As a Christian I prayed and was prayed for that my back would receive a miraculous healing. I believe 100% that it is entirely possible that God has the power to straighten my spine and there have been countless mornings when I have woken feeling my spine to check if it perhaps had straightened overnight. I do believe that God cannot answer every prayer, if he did there would be no such thing as free will to believe Him. If you knew that God would automatically heal if you believed, what choice would you have? I also believe in God’s intricate plan for all that believe and that there are reasons that we may not understand here on earth for the answers of our prayers sometimes being “No”. I have seen plenty of my prayers answered over the years. A straight spine has not been one of them and I still think my God is a good God.

Woman early 40's scoliosis
What my back looks like from behind. Normally I choose clothes that don’t bring attention to my uneven hips.

A bit over two years ago, my back had a complete meltdown. Moving was agony. I couldn’t drive, I could hardly walk. At one stage I crawled across the room like a tortoise trying to move as little as possible in order to reach the bathroom. My chiropractor helped me recover over a couple of weeks, but it scared me thinking of how I would cope living with crippling chronic pain. It was around this time, that I realised that in one year I had lost 5 cm in height. An X-ray confirmed spine was collapsing. The degree of curvature always increased over the years, but suddenly the bends were not so gradual. It was then the realisation came that I should not accept this continual increase of pain as if it were non-negotiable.

I booked a doctor’s appointment and got a surgeon’s referral. The surgeon once again recommended inserting rods in my back. He said that it was essentially the same surgery that was offered when I was 16, but surgical procedure is always improving and instead of the one Harrington rod from the 90’s I would receive two rods that would be fused into my spine. The doctor made it clear that even though surgical methods have improved in the past 20+ years, there were increased risks operating on an adult. Even though I’m not exactly over the hill, my bones have seen degeneration and damage over the years, aren’t as strong but are more brittle and my body will take longer to heal compared to a teenager.

The surgeon is a congenial fellow. I trusted his expertise and booked myself in. He said that I should pick a time that would best suit our family, even leaving one to two years. It’s a huge operation and it will effect all of our lives for a time. I opted with getting the surgery within the maximum time frame because this co-incided with the triplets beginning school. There is no easy time to do this for our family, but I felt that once the children were not needing care from me all day it would be easier to recover.

It’s been a long wait to get to this point, but here I sit thinking of a million things before I need to leave home today knowing that this event is happening tomorrow. In simple terms, the surgeon will be making two long incisions down my back and in my side (a rib will need to be broken to gain access) to correct my crooked spine. Over 6-8 hours he will remove two vertebrae and then untwist what remains before using screws to fuse my spine to two rods. When I wake up I will be in ICU overnight in the commencement of a long recovery. It will take 12 months to fully recover. The first 3 months will be intense, and I am dreading those first few days and weeks, especially as I begin to walk again.

The surgeon said this operation is no guarantee that I will live without pain in my spine. I am hopeful that it will be lessened. The surgeon said that as he lifts the vertebrae apart, they shouldn’t be rubbing against one another anymore which should mean I won’t feel the extensive arthritis my spine is riddled with. Well that’s got to be a good start for decreasing pain! If you see me at the end of a long day, I will be leaning over to one side, throughout the day, without even realising I am constantly forcing myself to straighten up. The surgeon said that I will be surprised how much energy this takes and the new stability that the rods will bring will mean that’s one less chore for the day. Mostly I am going into this operation believing that this will help brighten my future by halting the degressive progression of my curvature.

Side view scoliosis.
Side view of my spine. Those vertebrae that rub into one another really hurt!

It’s no small thing for a mother to walk away from her husband and children knowing that I will be unable to help them for an extended period of time and will be fully reliant on others to run my household. I am blessed that I have a wonderful support network of family and friends and a supportive school who are all committed to helping us all through this time. I am ever so grateful for this as I contemplate what lies before us this morning.

If you believe in the power of prayer, I would appreciate your prayers for myself and my family over the coming days. I am awake super early today, a bundle of nerves and slightly panicked knowing the list of things I would like to get done before tomorrow morning will not be accomplished. I also know that my terrific husband is more than capable to step up to the plate and nurture the children and I and fill in the gaps, even if it’s relying on the support of others. This knowledge helps the nerves dissipate quite a bit.

So for now, I can start my day tomorrow confident that I can straighten up and fly right. This will be a difficult year, but after this year there is a brighter future to soar into.

Scoliosis front view
Front view of my scoliosis. This picture proves how careful I need to be with what I wear otherwise one hip always juts out and my clothes just don’t sit right.

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Discovering Cancer

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Cancer. It’s not a word that you want in your life. You hope “cancer” will stay as a peripheral experience: others get cancer, but never you or your closest loved ones.

And then one day there is a doctor sitting in front of you saying that dreaded word.

Recently it happened to me. I now have a cancer story. It’s only beginning. I’m praying for a happy ending.

The last time I blogged was on the dawn of my scoliosis surgery. We knew that this year was going to be a big year for me healthwise. We had no idea how big. There’s been a few curveballs.

So here is the story. I had the back surgery. It hurt. A lot.

I spent four days in intensive care before moving onto the ward. I spent another week in the ward. When I was in ICU they took an x-ray of my chest to check for pneumonia. It’s a routine thing. I didn’t feel like I had anything wrong, so I wasn’t worried. I was just excited to see what my new back looked like! It was impressive. The nurse glanced over at the X-ray, froze, then let out an awed, “Woah. That is awesome!” It always amuses me what turns on medical people. He then send with great reverence, “You are totally Optimus Spine now.” Thanks nurse! I am! I totally own that. I’m proud of my straight spine, it hasn’t been easy to get and the large scar down my back now is a badge of honour.

Scoliosis X ray showing a thymoma present
Post scoliosis x ray that showed existence of a thymoma.

While I was celebrating my straight back that could be seen in the x-ray, I didn’t notice a cloud looming. The cloud was in the X-ray. A cloudy white mass on my lungs. Once I was on the ward, I learned about it from a lung specialist. He came to visit me and told me what they had seen on the X-ray that my untrained eye had not noticed. They thought it was a collapsed lung, which sounded scary but with his explanation I was quickly comforted. It didn’t sound like it would make a big difference in my life, unless I wanted to run a marathon. Which I certainly did not. No drama.

On his way out the door, he paused and said that he and my surgeon are both confident it’s nothing too serious and it wouldn’t be cancer or anything like that. He walked out the door as I froze. Cancer? Huh, what? I hadn’t once thought of that, he’d immediately said collapsed lung and that is what I instantly presumed, not another scenario entering my mind. I quickly became annoyed that he would even mention the word cancer if he didn’t think it was cancer and shrugged it off.

Later that day I was wheeled in my bed down to X-ray and had a CT scan of my chest and also had a full spinal X-ray to confirm my Optimus Spine status.

The next morning I was visited by a cardiothoracic surgeon. He asked me if my ears were burning? Apparently he had just come from a meeting of surgeons and oncologists where I had been discussed at length. I had become, or rather the cloudy mass behind my sternum, had become an enigma. The CT scan showed it wasn’t a collapsed lung but the question was how to diagnose the enigma. This new surgeon informed me that they decided on a biopsy and a PET scan. He told me it was going to be a big day, but the good news is that tomorrow we would have answers.

Later in the day my bed was wheeled down again to the X ray department. I knew how much it had hurt the day before getting onto the table for the CT scan. (Remember I still was recovering from major spinal surgery and had about 200 staples down my spine. No exaggeration.) I asked for something to help me through. A nurse was very obliging and injected me with morphine before I left. Which turned out to be very handy because there was a delay and my bed was in a parking bay, (for real, hospitals have parking bays for beds), for three hours so the morphine gave me a great sleep while I waited. (Morphine completely knocks me out.) After the biopsy, which was quite quick and not as painful as I expected (once again grateful for morphine) I was in the parking bay for another two hours waiting to go to the PET scan. This time I was given a gourmet food magazine, which was good because I like food mags and I was coming a little bit more lucid, although not enough to stay awake for long,   It turned out that the food magazine may not have been the best selection. I hadn’t eaten much lunch and I was starting to get hungry. My taste buds were salivating as I read an article about fancy doughnuts. It took me over an hour to read the article because I kept falling asleep and then waking up and examine the picture once again and then fall asleep dreaming of fancy doughnuts.

When I was finally wheeled in for the PET scan it was evening and as the shadows started to fall in the hallways of the hospital they also started to form in my mind as I was pushed through giant doors marked with radiation symbols. As I said, cancer has only been a peripheral experience of mine. No one I have been really close to has ever had cancer. I hadn’t realised the PET scan was solely checking for cancer, which I should have because the possibility of lymphoma had been mentioned to me. My heart rate began to increase, my hands started shaking. I was put in a dark room alone I closed my eyes and decided that I was not going to focus on the what ifs. So I shut my eyes and thought about my kids. Which made me start crying. So instead I shut my eyes and thought about fancy doughnuts and all the exotic locations I could eat gourmet doughnuts in.

Because the surgeon had said we would have answers the next day, Alex drove down and hung out with me in my room. You never know when doctors are going to appear when you are in hospital. It’s a bit of a lottery. By 6pm we realised that it seemed our number was not going to be called. A nurse rang and talked to the surgeon who appeared to have no recollection telling me that I would receive results today. Alex went home to Toowoomba and I had another doughnut dream.

Pizza
Alex went and got pizza for dinner which was a welcome break from hospital food. Even if it wasn’t a doughnut!

Thankfully at 6am the next morning the surgeon arrived in my room with the results. It was a thymoma and the biopsy showed it was benign. Phew. But it was still dangerous. It meant another major surgery as soon as I had healed sufficiently from the surgery I was currently recovering from. A thymoma is a rare tumour (that explained why it was such an enigma) that was located just behind my sternum. My thymoma was a particularly large one and had potential to continue growing, with potential for rapid erratic growth and was dangerously close to my heart and major arteries. I would need a sternoctomy (sliced down the breastbone and ribs pulled apart) to remove it. I couldn’t help but feel a little fear as he had previously told me that lymphoma would be easier to treat than operating on a lump in this area. However now that the task was at hand the doctor was sounding positive so I decided to be positive too and breath a sigh of relief that it wasn’t cancer.

Fast forward to the days after the chest surgery. The thymoma was removed. I had survived the most pain I’d ever felt in my life when I woke up from that surgery, and after that was under control, was relieved that the ICU experience wasn’t as bad this time as when I had the back surgery. The 2nd morning I was in ICU my surgeon came and sat by my bed. Not a good sign. He started with, “This thing is not at all what any of us has expected.” Also not a good sign.

When the tumour was sent for analysis at a lab, it was discovered that in fact there was only a small portion of the tumour that was benign. The biopsy was just a fluke that saved me from a little less worry for 6 weeks.  Which I am semi-grateful for because my worrying about the chest surgery was quite sufficient. The majority of the tumour was B2 cells that are pre-cancerous. 10% of the tumour were B3 cells, a rare aggressive cancer called thymic carcinoma.

When the tumour had been removed it was a about 10cm in length and diameter and rock hard. It had pressed against and become entangled with a whole heap of arteries and was difficult to remove. Some of the tumour was stuck on the sides of one of my major arteries into the heart. The surgeon made the decision to leave small spots of the tumour there rather than risking a major bleed. The tumour had also started growing into my lungs. He had sliced the tumour away from this and took a bit of my lungs with it, but he had assured me that I would not really notice this. We hope the cancer was only there and is now removed, but now there was a possibility of microscopic cancer cells within my lungs.

Chemotherapy and radiation are needed. Once again I’ve been playing the waiting game before starting another round. My body needed to heal sufficiently before we start the next round because the radiation will slow down or halt the healing process. I’ve now got the all clear and am waiting for my first round of treatment next week.

For the first week I was fine if we talked about the medical side of things. If I thought about my children or Alex, I would be a puddle of tears. It’s not nice to speculate about your children growing up without you.

As I said, I’m praying for a happy ending and we have every reason to believe there will be one. We are so fortunate that it has been caught early. In fact it may be that there is no cancer there at all, that the spots left are benign and the cancer cells haven’t spread. It’s not a risk I’m willing to take. The thymoma was slow growing, we can see it on x-rays dating back to 2014, and I can recall side effects that would suggest it was around as far back as 2012.

I have prayed that I will see my children get married, my grandchildren and even great-grandchildren. And also a gourmet doughnut. I still haven’t encountered one.

Whatever the outcome, I have full trust in God that he cares for me and His will is going to be accomplished in my life.

 

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Emerging from Blogging Hibernation?

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I’ve just been googling videos to try and find out what animals look like when they emerge after hibernating. I thought perhaps this might be a good analogy of me writing this blog post? Here I am, popping my head up out of the hole like this arctic ground squirrel, looking all around and surveying the territory. To tell you the truth I thought when one awakes from hibernation you might be a bit bleary eyed and groggy, but that little guy gets straight to work, so perhaps it’s not a good analogy. I might take a little bit longer to find my groove.

I got bored of watching animal videos to find out if  my emerging from a blogging hibernation is a good analogy so let’s just pretend there’s a loose correlation.

The truth is that if I have been in blogging hibernation, I still dream of blogging. I still miss it. I can remember when I did blog more regularly people would ask how I found time to do it. Now I ask myself that same question and wonder how I can incorporate it into my life again. I certainly have not been sleeping while my blog has hibernated, I have been doing life in a very busy and noisy fashion. (My children are not quiet!)

I’ve realised I like an audience, but I’m not writing for an audience. I write for myself and with the hope that perhaps it may be of interest to my children at some point in time, and in the meantime if others get something out of my writing, I’m delighted. But right now, I’m not thinking stats or strategies. I’m doing old school blogging, something resembling an online diary or just a platform to share about something I’d like to share about. I’m not trying to target a niche and things might be clunky and inconsistent.

To whoever is reading and not spam, “Hello”! I’m stumbling out of my blogging void, blinking furiously and hoping that my blog behaves itself and let’s me write, because I have things to say. Thanks for those who might listen through reading. I hope there is more to come!

Blogger emerges from hibernation? My son snapped this image. It took him a very long time to work out how to use a camera, so yes, my smile is rather plastered on. But it kind of seems appropriate for this post. Here I am, not so glamourous, not so polished, just me being a Mum and a woman.

 

The post Emerging from Blogging Hibernation? appeared first on Caitlin's Happy Heart.

Cancer Returns

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Yesterday I poked my head up from the cave I’ve been hibernating from Blogland in and said a few words. Today I’ve been wondering what my next words should be. I keep walking to the computer. Sitting down, then walking away leaving a blank screen. It’s quite unlike me, because normally if I’m having trouble deciding what to write I at least start with something because even if I start writing then delete a chunk, the process of starting gets the words rolling from my fingertips onto the screen.

Postscript: I’ve kept the first paragraph as evidence that I started it immediately after my previous post! I was finding this blog hard to write, so after writing a few paragraphs and walking away, life seemed to get in the way and it took a long time to get back to writing!

As you can see from the blog post’s title, I’m just going to get straight to the point. The recurrence of cancer is the biggest event in my life right now. I didn’t know whether to ease myself into blog writing a few light little blogs. But I’m a straight to the point kind of girl and ignoring elephants in the room is not my style. Even though I know a portion of you would not realise there’s a big cancerous elephant sitting in the room.

A cuter elephant than the one I’m talking about today! This was 2 weeks before finding out there was something amiss. We had taken the children to the Dubbo Zoo for the triplet’s 8th birthday.

Last year I went for a routine CT scan. I expected to be told I was still in remission. When I came into the office, my oncologist asked me how I was feeling. To be honest, I was feeling tired, wiped out and emotional and “just hanging in there” type of tired. But I didn’t tell him that, because I thought it doesn’t have anything to do with why I was in that room with him. After all, I’m a mother, I was teaching three days a week and 4th term is always busy. I also had a sore chest, but I’d had that last time we spoke, I had told him that this soreness in my chest would flare up every now and again. He sent me for a PET scan because of this pain and 6 months earlier we ruled out that there was no cancer, so he said I could put my mind at rest about that pain, it was probably just scar tissue. So after I said I was fine, he looked me in the eye and with a mild tone of surprise said, “Really, are you really doing well?” I should have realised that was the first sign that in fact he knew that below the surface I wasn’t doing well. Instead I just thought, “Gosh, I must be looking as tired as I feel.”

We looked at my CT scan and he indicated that there were two lumps on my lungs and he didn’t know what they were. (Retrospectively I’m fairly sure he had a pretty good idea…) He suggested we get another PET scan. His words were downplaying it, and when I was in the office, I was feeling positive that it was probably nothing. After I left, I realised that the oncologist’s tone was for more somber then his words. Plus he was in a rush to get the scan done. Radiation was surprised when I said that I needed the results in five working days, and then their faces turned grave and professional as they squeezed an appointment into a previously non-existent time slot. I started to get a bit worried.

At the time, I also was sidetracked by another urgent medical issue that revealed itself in the CT that also needed an appointment with a separate specialist which led to needing to organise a minor surgery around getting PET scans at the same time. It turned out to be a very stressful fortnight with dates changing for vavious appointments and surgeries. One particularly dramatic day I got mixed up with PET scan diets and pre-surgery diet (it’s not like I haven’t had enough surgeries, but I think I was just under so much stress) and I had a surgery cancelled and it had to be re-booked the following week. I was doing a short term teaching contract 3 days a week but I was needing to leave work for medical appointments. This upset me because I even though I knew this was out of control and the school was very supportive and understanding, I didn’t like being unreliable.  Having to write relief teaching notes which take me a very long time (maybe because I’ve done so many years of relief teaching I have innate desire to include enough detail) added to tiredness and general overwhelm. Eventually I had to give up the teaching contract, which broke my heart. I had long wanted to teach in that school, but I just couldn’t fit medical dramas and fatigue in with family life.

When the results came back, the PET scan unveiled that not only were the lumps on my lung cancerous, but the centre of my chest lit up showing active cancer cells, so we knew that the Thymic Carcinoma had returned as it was in the exact same spot. The cancer was now sprinkled all through my lymph nodes.

When the oncologist said that the cancer we were looking at was inoperable, my heart sunk into the pit of my stomach. I had been hoping that if it were cancerous surgery would remove the problem.

My oncologist outlined his recommendation for treatment. The catch was it was not going to be covered by Medicare, the government organisation that funds free/subsided healthcare in Australia. Well, Medicare funds you except if your cancer is considered too rare, I’ve discovered. Then, as it turns out, you’re on your own. I also have private insurance, but they also refused to pay for my treatment. We are fortunate that we had some money sitting in the bank ready to be used for another purpose. Alex made the instant decision that we would use that money so we proceeded with Plan A. It’s a relief that we have not needed to sell assets to receive treatment.

The treatment that I am receiving has plenty of reasons to be optimistic. I’m undergoing immunotherapy. It has had great results for a number of cancer patients, particularly lung cancer, which is good for me as the cancer is in my lungs. The immunotherapy I access is on the Medicare PBS for multiple cancers, just not for mine, since it’s so rare. Sorry to go on about this, I’m not trying to play the sympathy card, or ask for money, I just want people to be more aware of how hard it can be for the 30% of Australian cancer patients who have rare cancers. If you want to find out more answers, Rare Cancer Australia is a great website.

Keytruda Day! So far I’ve always travelled with someone.
After my first traumatic day with many failed cannula attempts, I’ve never been game to do it by myself, even though I use my port now. Alex always comes with me if there’s going to be news from scans. It’s always good to have two people listening and remembering big news. But seriously, this guy is my rock. He’s my favourite to have by my side.

Every three weeks I travel to Brisbane to receive a drug called pembrolizumab, (more commonly known by its trading name, Keytruda for those of us who are not skilled at pronouncing long medical words.) I receive it intravenously through my port. Well that was after the first treatment. 366 days earlier, all optimistic, I had removed my port. Because I had been in the doctor’s office receiving the bad news on the Thursday and then on the Monday was in Brisbane receiving treatment, there was no time to consider whether I needed the port again. After that first treatment after multiple bruises and far too much leaking blood as needles were unsuccessfully inserted it was obvious I needed to go in for surgery and have the port re-inserted again. However since that has happened treatment days have become a sinch since there’s no need to access my dodgy veins.

Collection of bruises from cannulas. I HATE cannulas!!!

Fast forward. I had four treatments and then a scan. For my 4th treatment I had to fly home alone without my family from the Philippines where we had been holidaying together with extended family to celebrate my brother’s 40th birthday. The scan results weren’t as good as I hoped. I had hoped that everything would have been shrinking. Instead, the main thymic tumour had not changed, which wasn’t bad news. Because it was stable I could continue with immunotherapy. (Plan B is a high dose of chemo. Definitely not my preferred option.)

In the Philippines with our family, my sister and family for my brother’s 40th birthday

The not so great news was that the lung cancer lesions had grown. The oncologist said there was a possibility that the growth was a rare case of “pseudo growth”. It’s a rare, but well documented, response that some people had to immunotherapy where the cancer gets bigger before it starts shrinking. Nevertheless because I’m relatively young and healthy, he recommended not taking any chances and proceeding straight to radiation. After treatment we had a long talk to a radiation doctor. We asked lots of questions and in the end we were planning on proceeding with radiation, but he took our case to be examined by a team of cancer specialists. The advice from that group was to proceed with treatment, have a scan sooner than usual and if the tumours have shrunk proceed with immunotherapy as planned. If the lung cancer has continued to grow, proceed with radiation. If there is any other activity or the thymic tumour has grown abandon immunotherapy, proceed to high dose of chemo.

My preferred option (apart from complete miraculous healing!) is to see that everything has started shrinking and that I can continue with immunotherapy. Despite the significant cost I have had minimal side effects, so my quality of life while having treatment is amazing. I can still function for my family, I’m doing a little bit of work and I’m out to go out and about without fear of having a compromised immune system and socialise or even worship with my church family. I feel so fortuntate to be reaping the rewards of all the brilliant minds who have facilitated such a user friendly cancer treatment so I’m praying that it will keep working until I’m in remission again.

 

 

 

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Update

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Oh dear. I continue to be neglectful of this blog. My sincere apologies, because I feel like I really did a teaser last time I wrote. I provided an update, left on a cliffhanger, and then never returned to tell you what is happening!

Lets just blame COVID-19. I think everything in 2020 can eventually circle around to that excuse, right?

Seriously though, my last post was just before everything got crazy and blogging fell down the list of priorities, especially with the increased amount of time the children were at home thanks to schooling at home. And as I’ve always said, once you’ve lost your groove, it’s kind of hard to recover.

So to recap. Prior to Easter I had discovered that even though the Keytruda was working on the main thymic carcinoma tumor, I had lesions growing on my lungs. A PET scan soon after I wrote the previous blog revealed these lung cancers were continuing to increase in size, so it wasn’t pseudo growth like I’d hoped. Not good news. Thank goodness we have access to amazing medical procedures in this country. I received a very short treatment of highly concentrated radiation which was very targeted straight into the actual tumors. I needed to travel to Brisbane four times within 2 weeks for this, but the good news is that my oncologist was thrilled with the results as the cancers on the lungs are practically gone. The smaller of the two is completely gone and we are hoping that the next scan will show no activity left for the larger of the two lumps.

Last day of radiation! (All suitably attired in dreadful hospital gown!)

So that leaves me continuing immunotherapy every three weeks. That scan also showed some slight shrinkage around the outside of the central tumor, so it was encouraging to see that it is continuing to work. I’m praying that next time the scan shows increased shrinkage. (Hopefully a bit more than just “slight”.) I still receive it every three weeks. The most exciting development here is that in June we have finally reached the financial cap set by the drug company that produces the medication. Once we had reached $60 000 (plus some more in pharmecutical fees) the drug company has a compassionate fee exemption, so now I will never need to pay for Keytruda again. It is a huge relief that our families savings will not continue to plummet, so I’m very thankful for Merck’s compassion. Especially since the treament may last the rest of my life. (Which will hopefully be a very long time!) We feel very blessed that we were able to find the money to receive the treatment, but I hope that in the future in Australia it will be included on the PBS so other families will not have to take such a huge financial hit. Even without having to pay for Keytruda, we will have hospital excesses to pay and I also need to pay for PET scans which aren’t covered for Thymic Carcinoma, yet are vital for tracking my progress. The covered CT scans just don’t show enough information to make informed decisions about treatment. Then there’s all the added medical expenses. (Like radiation which cost a pretty penny.)

Please don’t be worried about us, but I have mentioned numbers just to increase awareness of the huge costs associated with having a rare cancer as opposed to a more common cancer. There are some people out there who can’t access the funds to receive their choice of treatment, and I can only imagine the heart ache for them and their family.

The other good news is that I have been able to move my treatment to my hometown. It does mean Skyping my doctor rather than seeing him face to face, but so far that has been working fine. I think I will still travel to Brisbane to receive scan results. It has made life much easier. As nice as it was driving to Brisbane with friends and family and spending extra time with some people I love, it is so much easier not to inconvenience anyone and not to lose so many hours travelling. This way I can put a load of clothes on the line, pop up to hospital, call into the grocery store on the way home, then come home, do some chores, pick up the kids and spend the afternoon with them. Once I even did a meeting at night, but I’m not in a hurry to repeat that. I am exhausted after treatment and will often go to bed early that day, so I felt like I needed toothpicks to keep my eyes open in the end after going out at night. But altogether the quality of life that I am experiencing is amazing. I can sometimes have mild fatigue, but other than that it’s business as usual! It is so good to feel healthy while undergoing cancer treatment.

The other positive about receiving immunotherapy during 2020 is that I am not immune compromised, so I am not at increased risk of contracting COVID-19 when I am in the community. Of course I have more reasons than most not to want it, because it would halt my treatment during recovery time. However I have been able to continue with life which would have been very complex for a busy Mum if I needed to take shelter within the home for the last several months.

So apart from all those health things, life has been our usual sweet happy mess. Alex wouldn’t describe my mess as sweet or happy, so maybe that’s not a great descriptor. Let’s just say family life is happy and messy, and so is the house. After a period of schooling at home the children are very happy to be back at school with their friends and excited about learning in a classroom again. Some of my children did better at schooling at home than others, but all prefer the classroom context, so we are loving that they are at such an amazing school which creates a learning environment which is such a source of enjoyment for them.

Soccer season has begun again. Alex and I did kind of enjoy the break from the sidelines, but it’s great for the kids to be back running around again. We only have two playing this year. A third is loving gymnastics and the remaining two children need to choose another sport to participate in.

The Accountant is keeping himself busy. Business is doing well at this stage, but he’s always on the lookout for small business clients, so we’re always praying that the right people find him. I’m on the teaching circuit again and enjoying relief teaching work. Of course this has been in very short supply this year, but hopefully I can pick up a few more days before the year concludes.

One of the highlights of the year since I last wrote was travelling to Cairns to belatedly celebrate my father-in-law’s milestone birthday. It was so good being able to travel, and Cairns is always such a beautiful location to escape to.

With our extended family at Palm Cove.

I hope you have all been doing well during this crazy year called 2020?

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How a Mum Prepared for Chemo – Initial Days After Diagnosis

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I’m sitting here at 2:17am feeling nauseous. I woke up about 45 minutes ago and have temporarily given up sleeping for the moment so I’m sipping some ginger tea and starting to write this.

This is my second consecutive day of chemotherapy. Tomorrow (or rather today!) I have a third day at the hospital, (as an outpatient), to continue my immunotherapy. I’ll be doing this every three weeks for the next 4-6 months if all is going “well”. 3 weeks ago my oncologist told me that that the spots on my lungs had grown, as had the main thymic tumour. It seems that immunotherapy is not enough right now. It is never nice to find out that cancer is getting worse in your body. There have been a lot of tears. A lot of brain activity. Many, many prayers. More than anything else, I need a miracle right now.

So what to write? I thought I would give you a look into a cancer patient’s life on the lead up to receiving chemo. (For a second time, this isn’t my first trip on this merry-go-round.) This is just an insight into how I’m processing it.

If you are a Mum who is unfortunately in the same club as me, I’m sorry. Chin up girlfriend. We are strong, us women. You can do this. Even more importantly, if you are a believer, I find so much comfort that rather than saying, “You got this” to myself, I tell myself that “God has got this.” No matter what I feel inside, I can always maintain my equilibrium through the peace of resting in His arms. I feel I can cry out for healing. I cry out in lament that my family and I are walking this journey and know that he is big enough to carry my sadness on his shoulders. This knowledge gives me a joy and that despite my circumstances I can rejoice in the power of my salvation. The title of this blog remains true. Caitlin’s Heart is ever Happy. Even when it’s Sad. The Joy of the Lord is my strength.

So here’s an overview of my past three weeks.

  1. Travel to Brisbane to receive treatment and receive scan Results.
    Thankfully, now that I have reached the cap of paying for my Keytruda, I am able to remain in Toowoomba and only travel 15 minutes to treatment these days. I chose to drive to Brissy with my husband to receive scan results. I just figured I’d prefer to hear anything potentially bad face to face and see the scan with my own eyes rather than having it communicated via Skype, which is now the main way I communicate with my oncologist. Turned out to be a good call.
  2. Travelled home and then another hour to pick up the children from the family farm.
    So, I was teary, but I managed to hold myself together throughout the treatment, but burst into tears the moment I sat in the car. Alex and I processed it together on the way home. We still did our scheduled stop at Costco. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to, but we don’t get the opportunity to go to Costco often, and there was a few things that I wanted, so we decided to proceed. I sniffled in a few aisles, but buying an awesome big bag for my Christmas tree, big boxes of snacks for my kids and of course my favourite Costco treat, pop corners, did help to cheer me up somewhat. Look, if retail therapy works, I’ll take it!
  3. Told my parents and children the bad news.
    The plan had been for Alex to travel to the farm to pick the children up. I’m often feeling a little tired after treatment, so I was going to take the opportunity to have a bit of a rest. So I think Mum and Dad knew something was up when we both arrived. We told them the oncologists report. It’s not a happy time telling your parents the bad news that their daughter is not responding well enough to a cancer treatment. No matter what age. There were hugs and tears. We all remained stoic though. Alex and I were in agreement, and always have been, that we are honest and up front with the children while not trying to overwhelm them with too much information. This has probably been the hardest conversation to update them about. They are getting older and have had enough time to develop a cancer radar that they are now a bit more aware to read between the lines. They are all pretty devastated that I’m going to lose my hair again. They think I look like their “real mum” with long hair, and I’ve just got it back to my children’s approved length.
  4. Wave Goodbye to Husband as He Drives Away.
    OK. So I wouldn’t recommend the farewelling husband bit if you are in a similar situation, but Alex had a bloke’s weekend pre-planned taking our new 4wd and camping on the beach for a mate’s 40th birthday. I told him that I was nervous about him leaving, he had also gone to a pre-arranged blokes weekend back the first time I did chemo and my hair started falling out. I didn’t do well that weekend three years ago on my own. But I knew that he had been really looking forward to this trip and had done so much preparation in the weeks preceding, plus life is potentially going to get busier for him also, so we agreed it would be good for him to have a break. He agreed that I would let him know that if I wasn’t coping he would come home. Just knowing I could push that “panic button” really was enough for me. I didn’t need to call him home. There were some really tough moments where the kids would ask hard questions, and I was really very teary that first couple of days. The kids were trying really hard to be sensitive, but they are just kids, and they can’t maintain anything for extended amounts of time. And to be truthful, when I just had to force myself to get into Mum mode and push my feelings to the back seat, it kind of felt good to just proceed as if everything was normal. It may have included a meltdown or two from a child or I once or twice, but we got through it. Our emotions were all a bit raw. I wasn’t in denial, I was just getting on with the job that I want to remain on the earth to do. The joy of the ordinary. Alex did end up coming home a bit earlier than planned though, and I was really grateful. I was just starting to get to the end of my tether!
  5. Spend a Weekend with the Kids.
    So the kids and I really did have a lovely weekend. I had always been disappointed that Alex was going away on a long weekend. Long weekends are always a great opportunity to do things as a family. Luckily, him being a wise husband and married long enough to take the cues, we took advantage of him being self employed he took half a day off and went to the Sunshine Coast and had a “long weekend” a few weeks earlier. Plus we had a mini-break out on my Dad’s western property. So I was set to spend this time with the kids. Alex had told me to do whatever we wanted and splurge while he was away. When a wife hears that from her Accountant husband, she automatically feels blessed! He’d even suggested we go to a theme park on the Gold Coast. My heart kind of sank at that suggestion, because I didn’t think I really felt like that, but my kids are always super keen to go to a theme park, it’s a real treat. However when you contemplate the possibility of not as many days with your children as you want, all of a sudden you have an overwhelming desire to do whatever it takes to make some happy memories together.
    Happily, we came up with a plan that suited me so much better and luckily the kids had such a good weekend also. The kids have been begging me for Disney+ and it turned out they chose installing it instead of going to Dreamworld! Cosying up together with junk food and binge watching the Mandalorian was perfect. We did a few outings. We went to the local swimming pool.

    We also visited a park because it’s Carnival of Flowers time in Toowoomba where the kids ate cupcakes that they had piped the flowers on themselves. There was no parade this year so some floats were in the local shopping centre. The kids were sighing that I wanted to look at them there. In the end we didn’t find them, but the kids went home happy because we did find Xbox pyjamas.

    I’m always grateful that kids favourite foods are easy to make and we did some treats like waffles and pancakes for lunch. We had also scheduled in a game of laser tag with an aunty and cousins and happily Alex arrived home to participate in the game. We finished with an ice cream from Gelatisimo which is a treat because with five kids it’s not the cheapest ice cream option! My favourite memory of that trip was all the chocolate dripping off Toby’s happy face.

I received the news on a Thursday afternoon. All of these activities took us through to the end of Monday. I’ll explain where my focus was during the rest of the three weeks before treatment began in a further blog. Us Mums need to be prepare when it comes to big events, if we can. But for me it was also acknowledging that I can’t do everything and doing as much as I could. If I have any advice to give if you are in the unfortunate position of preparing for chemo, it’s be kind to yourself. Choose what is most important to you and pace yourself. And in the meantime, make as many nice memories as you can!!!

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Cancer. Why Me?

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Every time I get back here and write a blog I get all enthusiastic about writing again. Invariably, over the last few years, that enthusiasm wanes as dull everyday chores take the place of writing. Then I get myself into the situation I face today. What shall I write after the haitus? Do I write what I planned to write about next? Or do I update on what has happened since I last wrote? Or do I just write about a new topic altogether?

Today I’ve elected for the latter two in the hope that I can achieve the first question posed above before I have to go through the process again. (Because I really did want to share about a wonderful opportunity our family had before I started treatment.)

The update. I feel like there is nothing too much to say. Maybe it’s because I answer this question so regularly, or maybe because my new routine feels quite dull and a bit blergh. I’ve now completed my third treatment of chemo. My new normal is receiving a Cisplatin/Etoposide + Keytruda infusions every three weeks. It takes three days to receive this cocktail. I seldom say “Cheers” and would never recommend placing an order for this particular cocktail concoction. There is a new wine bar in my town and it looks far more fun! (Especially the cocktail with fairy floss as a garnish. Stuff dreams are made of. I’m not drinking at the moment because I don’t think my kidneys can handle anything else, but if I was…)

The effects from chemo are that I’m stuck in a three week cycle according to the way my body is responding to the drugs. The first five days are the worst. I feel quite nauseous and sick, but thankfully I haven’t vomited. I have a yuck sick taste in my mouth, especially in that first week. I was warned my mouth might taste metallic due to the platinum in the drug, I don’t feel like it tastes metallic, what does metallic taste like after all? Maybe I’d know if it were truly metallic, for now I think it’s just a gross taste in my mouth that makes some food and water less appealing than usual to eat/drink. I also feel quite wiped out and get very little done.

During chemo. (My hair was thinning at this point. Now it’s mostly fallen out except for a fine layer that isn’t enough to hide my scalp!)

During the second week I feel tired, but I can function better, so long I don’t overdo things too much. The third week I’m feeling much better, so I try to get as much done as possible while trying not to think and dread the next week when I’m going to repeat the cycle and feel low all over again. I’ve been praying for little or no side effects. There have definitely been side effects, but I think it could be far worse, so I’m thankful for that and continue to pray and hope and believe that the treatment will work. I know some people want to know if it’s working when they ask me questions along that line, but you just never know what’s happening until there is a scan so you just hang on tight and stay on the ride. Even after a scan, it only takes a few weeks, and you are back to that feeling of unknown. I’m grateful for my faith that I have peace while I sit in the dark.

Many people, when finding themselves in unsavoury scenarios ask the question, “Why Me?” I think it’s very understandable why people ask that question, they just want to get out of a bad situation.

“Why me?” isn’t a question I’ve asked. Another cancer patient had remarked to me once during a conversation, “And then you go through the whole question of why is this happening to me.” I realised that this hadn’t been a part of my experience. I had no judgement that she raised the question, but for me the question instantly was, “Why not me?” Bad things happen in the world all the time. Wars happen, children die of terminal illness, sickness happens, abuse happens. The world is full of injustice. Why would I be excused from any of this suffering more than the next person? I don’t want this to happen to me. But I don’t want any injustice to happen to anyone. I find asking “Why Me?” is an unanswerable question that offers no solace because it is not a question that can alleviate your suffering in any way.

On a similar vein is the statement, “It’s not fair.” No, it’s not fair that I have cancer. But it’s also not fair that there are refugees in my city who are trying to re-establish their lives after experiencing atrocities in their war torn countries of origin and the indignities of living in refugee camps. It’s not fair that in my city when I go to bed at night there are children who won’t sleep as they cower in corners afraid of their parents. It’s not fair that when I go to my local cemetery there are child sized graves or headstones of people who have died far too early. I could keep going on, but I think you get the picture. It’s not fair. This is our reality, not just in my city, in every city across the world.

This doesn’t mean that all is hopeless. Quite the contrary! For every tragic story there is an opportunity to insert positive experiences. If you aren’t currently facing your own hardships there’s an even greater opportunity that you can insert yourself into another person’s story and be the positive. In fact, sometimes those of us in the middle of hard times get opportunities where we can be the positive part of someone else’s story. The beauty of looking for these opportunities is that when we start giving it makes our own lives feel so much more worthwhile. Sometimes the most cheerful moments that snap us out of feeling anxious or depressed is when we give ourselves the opportunity to do something for others rather than focus on ourselves. What a privilege to be a part of someone else’s story. We become the “but” when they tell their stories. “I was in this dark place, BUT someone came and did this for me.”

Thank you to the people who have helped me during this time. You know who you are. It’s quite overwhelming sometimes and I don’t always have the opportunity to thank people to the extent that I feel thankfulness for their actions. I have had people give me thoughtful gifts, money raised for meal vouchers and even a holiday, cards, a package left on the doorstep, vouchers, gifts, books and most of all so many kind words, encouragement and prayers. My heart feels so grateful for the prayers that are prayed for my family and I. I am so humbled. For all the “Why me” and “It’s not fair” questions that are asked, I find far more comfort in the prayers of those who believe and my faith in my God. Of course I could go into more depth (and hopefully will some day) on the theology and why I still serve a God and believe that he is good despite the evil and suffering in the world. But for now I just wanted you to know that in the middle of the knowledge that there are sad things happening all over the world, I have a peace that there is a God doing miracles everywhere and comforting the broken hearted. It helps my heart stay happy, a deep rooted joy that there is more good than evil in the world, and a sure feeling in my spirit that good will triumph.

I had a birthday recently. Here I am with my sister having a beautiful brunch with a few dear family and friends.

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23 Years Later – An Anniversary

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I woke up this morning feeling not particularly well. Not terrible. Just not particularly well. The tumour under my breastbone was a bit painful and my body was aching and I was still tired after a night’s rest. I received chemotherapy this week and the weekend afterwards is always when I feel the side effects most.

23 years ago I woke up on this very same date excited, nervous and full of optimism about the days to come.

It was my wedding day 23 years ago!

I hope you’ll excuse the grainy old photos and indulge me a little trip down memory lane.

There’s a lot of anticipation and expectation about wedding days. For good reason. My wedding day was one of the best days of my life. It also has been one of the most important days of my life. A day where Alex and I became our own little family. Which has miraculously become a much larger family thanks to the blessing of the five beautiful children who have become a part of our life. We have spent 23 years together working, playing, doing the routines of life. It has been a wonderful life together.

I’ve just wrote, “I will never regret saying ‘I do’ “. I backspaced. It’s not the truth. Honesty is one of my top attributes, so to be truthful, there has been plenty of times that I have regretted saying “I do”. Marriage can be excruciatingly annoying, painful, frustrating and tedious. There have been moments where I have questioned why I am in this marriage. But I’ve stayed in the marriage. And that commitment to stay, I have never, I will never, regret.

As complicated as marriage, the good far outweighs the bad. It has been my joy and pleasure to be Alex’s wife. We have shared so many adventures together from the ordinary life of jobs and commitments to the exciting times of travel and events to all the beautiful moments shared with family and friends in between.

Marriage is between two people, but it is influenced and influences far more than two people. Once children are on the scene, and we are so grateful that they arrived, the sphere of influence in our marriage became magnified. Suddenly we two people were doing everything with our heart and soul to make five (for us!) more people happy, healthy and help them to find purpose in this life.

Marriage is two people working together to achieve outcomes that are better done together. It’s joining forces with people around you. As I’ve been reflecting on our wedding day 23 years ago I’ve been thinking of all the people who were present and celebrated the day with us. I loved having a large wedding, it was so special to share the start of a new life with a group of people who were cheering us on into a combined future. I am so happy that the friendships we had back in those days still continue. We still have special connections with everyone in our bridal party and so many more people who were a part of our life.

When I was younger I had no idea how the years make friendships so rich. We are so blessed indeed that our families are and always have been a supportive crew around us throughout our marriage. So many excursions, birthdays, meals around the table together. Marriage becomes a community of people around you.

23 years later I’ve woken feeling not particularly well. My ailments and complaints are really quite mild. The issue with my mild complaints is that I know that these aches and pains have a far more sinister origin to your regular mild complaint. Which leads me to reflect on the vow we made 23 years ago to be by one another’s side in sickness and in health. With the optimism of youth, this can somehow feel more of a romantic statement rather than the true grit that is required if it becomes a reality.

I am so blessed to have Alex by my side during these more difficult times. His devotion as a husband has been echoed the words of the scripture my cousin read on our wedding day. His love has been patient. He has been kind. He has been willing to put his own ambitions aside in order to help me and together we have persevered through the hard times. I always feel protected by Alex and I am thankful that our love has plenty of trust and hope in one one another and in our God.

I love you Alex, and always will. As long as we both shall live.

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Being a Mum and Losing Hair Because of Chemo

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It’s the ultimate of bad hair days.

Looking in the mirror and seeing hair disappearing or nothing at all.

Receiving treatment last week.

Thankfully not all chemotherapy these days result in hair loss. However for those of us who are unfortunate to be receiving a treatment with this side effect, hair loss can be heartbreaking. Yesterday I went to put on my eye make up and realised that I no longer have eye lashes. After that first realisation, it’s all I could see when I looked in a mirror the rest of the day! My eyebrows have been thinning over the last week or two. I think I need a refresher on how to use a brow pencil. I tried filling them in this week and one of my kids asked why my eyebrows looked weird! (Nothing like children to keep it real!) There’s barely any hair left on my head and over the rest of my body. This is my second chemotherapy treatment. I also lost my hair back in 2017.

My skin feels super, super smooth everywhere. Hair does add a texture to your skin and when there are no longer follicles that are even growing a new layer of hair, it feels so different. I think my skin feels as smooth as glass, only softer. One of things that amazed me both times that I’ve lost my hair is how much you don’t pay attention of where there is hair on your body until it is gone. For instance, hair on the back of my neck! For some reason I always notice in photos that my neck somehow looks different once I’ve experienced hair loss. There’s also a missing sensory feeling when you are alarmed or nervous with no hair prickling on the back of your neck! It’s odd the different things a person will notice. I don’t know if others have experienced this, but it’s just something that stood out to me!

When I sat down to write this today, (my kids are having a sleepover at their grandmothers so I’m taking advantage of the quiet house!), I discovered that I had started writing a few months ago when my hair began falling out. I’ll include some of those thoughts fresh from the experience:

Three weeks ago I had the first course in my current chemotherapy regime. It took three days, then there is a three week “break” and then this week I will begin another three days.

Last Sunday I was washing my hair and I noticed that I lost more hair than the usual amount that your hair naturally sheds. It wasn’t huge, but because this has happened before, I knew that this was the start and I also knew that within the week most of my hair would be gone. I knew I would probably have a tough week. The first time my hair fell out, I was not expecting to be as emotional as I was. I thought I would be sad, but I didn’t realise that sadness would make everything more intense and that at the drop of a hat my emotions would bubble over. It turns out, that it was still highly emotional having hair fall out a second time!

As a mother, the first time it happened, I found it really hard dealing with the children because I was so emotional I just had no more energy left to deal with all the typical issues that accompany children. Children don’t tiptoe around you with a heightened sense of cautiousness when Mum has cancer. They resume living, and having all the same issues that children have. They still fight, they still lose things, they still don’t want to clean up and they still have character that is developing. Plus, they are more emotional themselves, because it’s unsettling for them also when Mum has cancer. I wasn’t prepared that having my hair fall out would be highly emotional for the children as well. To them, when my hair fell out, the outward appearance changed, I no longer looked like their Mum, even though I still sounded like her and acted like her.

When I found out I was going to do chemo for a second time, it was the first thing the kids asked, “Will your hair fall out again?”. The reply that my hair was going to fall out brought on more tears from the children then hearing a few moments before about the doctor’s prognosis about the growth of the cancer. (Sidenote, being open and honest with our kids while not oversharing has really helped us to process the journey as a family and has helped the children to freely ask any questions they need to which has lead to some excellent examples of resilience from all five of the kids.)

With my darling one year old niece! She now can claim she has more hair than her aunty!

I try to respect that the hair loss is really hard for the children and make it a bit easier for them. One way I do this is by wearing something on my head most of the time even when I’m at home. At the moment it is Summer in Australia and it has been hot! I would much rather be walking around the house without anything on my head, but it’s a small little thing that I felt like I can do. I’ve talked to another Mum and she said that even though her kids hated seeing her bald they just got used to it. I think it’s all up to individuals how we handle it. For me, there’s one child in particular who really can’t handle seeing me bald. Sometimes at the end of the day I might rip of my scarf for a little bit of fresh air, and four of them are getting a bit more used to it, but this one child really can’t handle it at all. He can’t look at me, his eyes stay averted and he gets fidgetty and can’t concentrate on what he’s saying. Last time he used to beg me to put it back on, this time he’s a bit older and more sensitive, but even still, I can see it’s uncomfortable, so it really is a very small thing for me to just keep my head covered.

Most of the time around the house I wear a square cotton bandanna folded in a triangle, it’s the coolest option I’ve found. I really dislike wearing anything that is synthetic on my head, so even though I have some head gear that is lighter and thinner, if it’s not a natural fabric it just doesn’t do it for me. The bandannas actually belong to Toby and Jayden, (it isn’t that easy finding a square scarf that’s not too big and not to small as it turns out!) they were given to them from a Filipino friend, so they have loved loaning them to me .

Realising your eyelashes are missing is nowhere near as hard as those initial days when my the hair on my head fell out. For me it happened over the course of a week. Every time I ran my hands through my hair I would be left with a handful of hair. It didn’t work if I just had self control I stopped touching my hair. That was actually worse because the hair would keep falling out but it would be one big knotted tangled mass and to get it untangled I would end up with a large ball of hair in my hands. So I found the best method was to keep running my hands through my hair and putting hair in the bin. It really is a bit depressing to look into the bin and see it full of long hair. The first time I had my head clippered once I started getting bald patches. This time I didn’t seem to have as many patches of baldness. Even though my hair kept getting thinner and thinner it meant so much to the kids that I still had any hair. They liked it much better when there was bit of hair left out while I was wearing a cap. By the end I was tying up the most pathetic little ponytail ever with toddler hair bands! Once it got to the stage where the pony tail was too small I cut my hair short and a few little bits just poked out here and there. I liked this better than the first time when I clippered everything off. (Sidenote: Both times there has been a small bit of hair that remained. Last time it was just little fuzz, now it’s just a few strands of hair.) This time it was nice having a little bit of a fringe for longer, it made me feel a bit more normal. There was nothing normal when I took my hat off, the tiny bits of hair that I had looks crazy sticking up everywhere!

I generally don’t like wearing a wig. It’s hotter and scratchy. Last time I started getting good at tying scarves, but I was having treatment in the winter and spring when the temperature is cooler. This time I couldn’t be bothered. My favourite headwear (apart from my home bandanas!) are pre-fashioned bamboo turbans. They are so comfortable, stylish easy to throw on and the bamboo is cooler in the hot weather and warmer if it’s colder.

I’ve deliberated whether I add a bald picture to this post. I know before I lost my hair the first time I went googling what cancer patients looked like to know what to expect. I’m really grateful to those ladies for sharing their pictures. I’m glad they felt comfortable to do this. I’m not going to share pictures, so if you are someone who is bald and don’t want people to see you what you look like without hair, that’s OK too. It’s OK to acknowledge what you do or don’t feel comfortable doing and not feel like you need to do something just because others have done it. I am very comfortable with my body and I love my body, but I’m aware of some of its flaws or bits I don’t like and I cover them accordingly. When I get dressed, I dress in a way that I feel most flatters my body and makes me comfortable and I cover the flaws accordingly. I wouldn’t feel comfortable taking a photo in my underwear just to prove to everyone that I have a wobbly tummy and a saggy bottom. In this Instagram world, sometimes there’s a pressure to expose all in order to be raw and honest. I think women need to know their boundaries and not feel the pressure to show more than what they are comfortable with. For me, my words are where I choose to expose feelings with rawness and honesty.

I love this picture because I am catching up with a dear friend from high school. However, I don’t like the fact that my turban has crept up above my ear! This is my equivalent to a “bad hair day” photo at the moment!

When I look in the mirror, I love me, but I don’t like being bald. There are some women who, even though they prefer to have hair, still look amazing without hair. Then there’s certain shaped faces that really do look better with something on their head. I’ve been around a few women now who have no hair and cancer, while they are all beautiful, some really do look better than others when bald. It’s kind of like the difference between some women looking good in a bikini and others look better in a one piece. I just don’t look good bald. I know if I posted a picture there would be many people rushing to reassure me that I look beautiful. It wouldn’t matter to me, when I look in the mirror, I don’t hate me, but I don’t feel beautiful until I put some headgear on. No wonder why my kids prefer seeing me with something on my head, so do I!

So a last photo to leave you with because it was so fun I can’t leave it out! Yesterday my hubby and I went on one of our most exciting dates ever! We flew in a helicopter over Brisbane to Sirromet Wines where we had lunch together before flying away. At some point during lunch I had a few tears when I was saying how frustrated I am that I can’t work anymore because want to earn some money for a few pieces of furniture we need in the house. It’s nothing urgent, but it’s just frustrating that cancer has for the moment stopped me doing a job I love and the pocket money always felt good that I was helping contribute. Anyway, those tears washed away my eye make-up so my unlashed eyes were on full display for the world to notice! I’m fairly certain that no one really noticed my missing eyelashes! It was so delightful to spend some time together without children and just enjoy one another, plan for the future (like Alex assuring me that we’ll work out the furniture issues, haha!) and acknowledge some of the uncertainties. It was a great way to belatedly celebrate our 23rd wedding anniversary hair loss and all!

A helicopter flight!

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The Day Before Chemo

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The day before chemo.

Impending feeling of dread.

Anticipation. Of Unpleasantness.

Hope. A flickering flame.

The flame is not extinguished.

Hope. For better days.

For Answered Prayers.

The day before chemo. The agenda.

A to do list and a Prayer for healing.

 

It is the day before chemo. I have woken up too early. It’s a common occurrence for me and rather annoying because it means I will likely be tired throughout the day and not functioning at optimum capacity. Which is irritating because I always have a long list of things I want to get done before chemo starts. I always pray that the side effects won’t appear or that they will be minimal. I am definitely handling the chemo quite well, but so far there are still side effects. Tomorrow will be my sixth treatment and I have found a rhythm to the cycle of chemo. As much as I don’t like having side effects, it is somewhat comforting to know that there is a pattern and know what to expect. But at the same time I have a feeling of dread because I know how I’m going to feel like tomorrow. Worse still, I know what I’m going to feel like on the weekend, which always when I feel worst. Of course unless there’s a miracle that is different to previous weeks. I always hang out that this might happen, even though I’m grateful for small miracles that my symptoms are less than they could be.

The weekend was very pleasant full of family celebrations and church family. But it’s over now and it’s the day before chemo and there is a long to do list to conquer.

Todays To Do list:

Getting ready for school.
Lunchboxes made. Instruments and music books packed for music lessons at school. Making sure kids are dressed and beds made and bedrooms tidy before they leave. (We don’t always achieve those last two chores. Perhaps because I’m not naturally tidy I find it really hard to teach my children to be tidy.)

Laundry.
Washing and folding. Because it never ends. Also as the week progresses I will feel far less enthused about keeping up with this never ending task. And given that my appointments are all in the morning, it can be quite challenging to get the washing done before I leave. If the baskets are as empty as possible at the beginning of the week it will mean there will be less to catch up on next week.

Menu Plan.
At the beginning of the week I’ll have enough energy to cook meals from scratch but as the end of the week progresses I will be relying on as many cheats as I can. Thankfully I have a stockpile of freezer meals at the moment due to the kindness of my brother cooking up some meals for me. (In sous vide bags. He’s loaned me his sous vide this week, so this will be my first venture into this French way of cooking!) I’ve also got some meals from a local restaurant that does home cooked meals thanks to the generosity of a beautiful group of people who pitched in to buy some vouchers for us. The menu plan will help me know when to get the meals out to defrost and what I need to get from the shops to accompany the meals. I also need to take stock on what supplies I need for the kids lunchboxes during the week. I have a few frozen biscuits that someone has kindly baked for me, but I do need to stock up on some savoury supplies to balance out the sweet for the kids.

Declutter.
It’s no secret that tidiness is not my strong suit. I’m always on a mission to rectify the problem. It normally feels like a losing battle. Since the children have gone back to school this year, I’ve been a bit more systematic and I feel like I’m making some progress. So on the agenda is to get one more area decluttered.

Appointments for children.
I need to pull two children out of school for a couple of hours to take them to a paediatrician’s appointment that was booked six months ago. They aren’t happy because it’s during their morning tea break so I will have to swing by Maccas on the way there and see whether a McFlurry will appease them for missing out on playtime!

Grocery shop.
To stock up on fruit and snacks for lunchboxes and all the missing items that we’ll need for dinners during the week.

Update chore chart.
My kids have a weekly chore chart, but it needs updating because some of the jobs aren’t working on it and some jobs that I’ve had on the chart previously need to make a return.

Pick up kids.
Pick the kids up from school and do our afternoon routine. Washing lunchboxes (their job!), music practices, jobs and most importantly playing! I’d like to do some baking with someone to have a bit more for lunchboxes during the week. Baking is one of my joys in life and I find it’s a great way to bond with the kids when we bake together.

Dinner and Night Routine.
I’m anticipating that by the time the day has ended I’m going to be feeling pretty tired since I woke up so early so I’m hoping that I might get a little bit of relaxing after dinner in front of the TV. I’d like to watch The Amazing Race Australia with the kids, it’s been Alex and my favourite show ever since season one aired in the US. I love it that they could still do it in Australia last year and even though they aren’t racing around the world it’s been great seeing so many iconic Australian locations. After that, hopefully I’ll be able to get to bed and then fall asleep! Just because I’m tired doesn’t always mean that this little night owl sleeps when I go to bed!

So that’s my day! What are your plans today?

It was my parents birthday on the weekend. We had a family dinner to celebrate. Here I am with my Mum and nephew. Brenton made the chocolate bowl and I made Mum a cheesecake.
Celebrating Mum, Dad and a friends birthday on the weekend.

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Scanxiety

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At the end of 6 treatments of Etopside and Cisplatin chemotherapy I was feeling battered physically and exhausted emotionally. After the last treatment all the side effects increased and physically it took two weeks before I stopped feeling sick. Meanwhile throughout all these horrible feelings there was a prickling feeling of discomfort and concern about the inevitable scan at the conclusion of the treatment.

Scans are a necessary part of cancer treatment. We need them if the results are good or bad. But waiting for them. That’s when you get scanxiety. I think there is a sliding scale of how anxious you feel leading up to a scan. Generally I am fairly calm on the exterior, concerned on the interior but just trying to consider the possible options and keep on keeping on. However, I can be like a bear that’s poked if there is the slightest provocation.

At the end of this round of treatment I was expecting to see an improvement but I didn’t think the cancer would be completely gone, so in my head I was contemplating many different scenarios of what would happen next. I think this certainly increased the scanxiety I was feeling. The morning that I was going to the scan I was being particularly snappy with the children and then I paused and realised that I was probably more worried than I had realised about the upcoming scan.

Realising this helped me to calm down, however I probably didn’t handle it the right way! I explained to the child I was yelling at that I was worried about the PET scan I was having. He asked why I’d be worried, which I explained in simple terms, however even though I try to be honest but not create fear when I talk to the kids about cancer, this time I unintentionally transferred the scanxiety onto him. For the rest of the morning he proceeded to meltdown about everything! Cancer hits families, not just individuals.

Part of my concerns when it comes to scans is having the cannula put in and then during the CT part of a PET scan I can often experience intense pain as the dye is released into my body via the cannula. This time it wasn’t a smooth run with the cannula, it went straight in, but they had to use a vein I knew is painful and once the needle was in it was sitting near a nerve so it wasn’t comfortable. However it wasn’t painful during the scan, so hooray for small wins!

I’m sure the real information you are wanting to read is what the results were. Much better than I expected! The cancer in the centre of my chest and lungs has predominantly gone! Insert happy dance! There are three areas where the PET scan still show that there is some type of activity occurring. We will need to wait until the next scan to properly assess what is occurring. But for now I am finished with the chemo and feeling so much better for it!

I will continue to receive immunotherapy every three weeks. Hopefully this will deal with any remaining cancer and also be preventative for recurrence.

So for now I’m cautiously optimistic. I think you may need to have your own cancer experience to understand why there is a part of me that can’t fully celebrate. There has just already been too many twists and turns during this journey for me to reach the conclusion that I’ve entered the “live happily ever after” stage.

But right now, I’m enjoying that I’m not feeling so sick. I’m getting stronger and enjoying the extra energy that is allowing me to start catching up on some neglected tasks. My children and family have been so excited about the good report and it’s so comforting to see their spirits lifted.

As for scananxiety. Well, that’s lurking below the surface waiting for the results of the next scan. For now I acknowledge that I don’t know the future and that it could contain both good or bad. I know that either way I will deal with it and keep moving forward. Until then, I will keep loving life and enjoying all the blessings it contains.

Final chemo session

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When Mum has Cancer – Family Dynamics

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When Mum has cancer the whole family is affected. The house gets messy. The washing and ironing piles can tower.  Waiting times increase when the children need things, whether it’s waiting for pair of pants to be mended or waiting for a new piece of school uniform to be purchased. Trips to the library, or other special places become less frequent. Special Mum and Dad time often slips off the agenda.  The fridge can become a little more empty and the meals a little more simple. Events can be forgotten or missed. Mum might not be in the crowd watching as frequently as she once was. Sometimes life feels more sad than normal. Sometimes it can be easy to feel despondent. Tempers can fray. Tears come easily. The family can be living on the edge. Emotionally and physically.

While I was doing chemotherapy most of the above list was being checked most weeks. Sometimes beautiful friends and family would help and make sure things were happening for us. People cooked meals or gave vouchers for us to buy meals. My Mum and a friend helped with ironing. Family and friends looked after children. People came around and helped tidy the house. Practical help when you are dealing with a chronic illness is so appreciated.

Things may not be as bad right now. However it takes time to recover after an intense period of Mum being unwell. It is even more difficult to recover emotionally when there is no certainty of treatment ever stopping. Then there is times (like we’ve experienced recently) when a flare up occurs and Mum is out of action again. This time it was more briefly than last time, but things can quickly become discombobulated and emotions that have only just started to settle brim to the surface very quickly.

Unfortunately a month ago or so I started feeling really achey in every join in my body. It was starting to slow me down and I was finding it difficult to function in the mornings. The most unfortunate thing for my kids was I was allowing myself to be irritable and snappy. The tone in a household can be affected by any one person’s behaviour. But I find when Mum is crabby things deteriorate really quickly. It seems that our family’s default emotion is anger. We have really been struggling with a lot of angry little bodies, (OK, let’s be honest, the big bodies have been angry too!), to be truthful, for quite some time, family life has been really tough, and during the past month or so, even more so.

Fortunately my oncologist recognised my pain as a side effect from the immunotherapy I’m still receiving. Taking doses of Advil frequently and regularly has helped the arthritis get under control again. Now we’re working on getting the family to be calm again too.

I wish it was as easy as swallowing a pill to make us humans less reactive! Sometimes it is simply taking a break and slowing down filling a child’s love tank. After a particularly tumultuous weekend, one little fellow really wasn’t coping so yesterday he stayed home from school and had a “mental health day”.

It was day of going slow, apart from pumping through three loads of washing. (Which really is huge in our 11kg machine!) I was doing a little mending job and he was interested in the needle and thread so I taught him how to straight stitch and sew on buttons. It amazes me sometimes how children can find delight in simple things. He sat there for well over an hour sewing buttons onto a scrap of fabric. He then wanted to learn how to use the sewing machine, so we did that.

Learning to sew.

He ran around outdoors while I put the washing on, throwing the ball at me. He laughed hard at me as he tried to catch me out by throwing it at me when I wasn’t ready! He noticed the roses so we went down and picked some. We literally stopped and smelled the roses!

We put them in vases and he delighted in putting a little vase in his sister’s room for a surprise. When Dad came in for lunch he delighted being “an only child” for a little while having Mum and Dad to himself. He persuaded Dad to play table tennis with him for a little bit and then asked for my help to clean his room. (The issue that had brought him to a tumbling into a heap on Sunday afternoon.) We didn’t get it all tidied, but I know he felt supported that we can work on solving problems together.

Did it make family life perfect again? No. But things were just that little bit calmer yesterday. Including when the child in question lost his temper once the annoying siblings returned. But this time he was able to calm down much quicker than the day before. Sometimes we just need to give ourselves or our spouse or our children a pressure valve. We need to slow the pace and give them a chance to release steam safely so that it doesn’t burn the others.

Besides when is family life ever completely perfect? If you ever achieve it, it is only for a moment. An hour or two perhaps of bliss before the inevitable bickering starts or pressures of life and humdrum of living interferes.

When Mum has cancer the whole family is effected. Beauty can still be found in the chaos. Roses can be sniffed. Time can be spent together in the simplest of activities. In the forced going slow moments, family members can regain respect and feel cherished. When Mum has cancer families learn to support each other in the mess and support one another during the hardship. When Mum has cancer the family can exhibit a resilience of spirit that goes deeper than the outbursts and the pandemonium. When Mum has cancer love can still be found in the family. Even if you have to scratch a little below a layer of self protection.

PS. Some friends have been encouraging me to vlog. I don’t really know how to do it, but it feels like something nice to do at the moment, so I’m going to give it a go. One of the activities we were doing yesterday was fiddling around filming from my iPhone. We’re starting simple. Apologies to those who know how to do this properly. Feel free to send me advice! It will be full of mistakes but keep tuned to my Caitlin’s Happy Heart Facebook page or Instagram page. If I work out how to edit our day, I’ll post a YouTube link maybe in a few days time! (Plus like and subscribe if you want me to keep going, I’ll be looking for feedback to see if it’s worthwhile!)

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Radiation Return

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Here I sit. Again. Yes, I’ve been here before. In this room, sitting waiting. I’ve checked in to reception before. It all is so familiar. I’ve had the chat about the bill it will cost before. So I know that is yet to come. Even living in a country with good medical access and having insurance on top of that, staying alive is costly.

That’s what I’m trying to do. Stay alive. For a bit longer. Time. Sometimes you can buy time. How much would you pay for a few more …. ? Well I don’t even know what I am paying for. Days, months, years? What about minutes or hours, would you pay for those?

Of course there is prayer. It’s the free ticket out of here. I don’t think prayer is a lottery. But sometimes it feels like it. Oh, there’s people that will tell you that there are free tickets of healing are available to everybody. Which makes me relieved that my belief is that unanswered prayer is a mystery. Because otherwise, what have I done wrong? Why isn’t my free ticket working?

The God I worship loves infinitely. I have peace in the midst of my turmoil. A peace that divine love will still be present during the best case scenario of healing or the worst case scenario.

Someone told me that they were healed, “God is good!”, they exclaimed. I’m not healed. But God is still good. I believe that.

I haven’t given up hope though. I hope that the true statement is, “I’m not healed YET.”

The nurse is understanding. She can see that I’m a frequent flyer in the medical corridors. A patient used to conversations behind locked doors. Used to parroting my name, address, birthdate. I may be young but I have the demeanour of the long term patient. The innocent caught up in the criminal activity called cancer.

I sit. I wait. It is a surprise when you don’t have to wait. You learn how to become productive during waiting.

Time. I don’t want to waste the minutes. Being a stage IV cancer patient teaches you that life is precious. A realisation that is always there. But when your mortality feels precarious, you are aware all the more. Even still you find yourself wasting minutes. Fighting, scrolling, sighing, loss of concentration. Before I berate myself, I realise wasting time is being human. We all do it. I just want more time to waste. And even more time to live productively.

Photo taken this week after a long day in hospital corridors and medical offices. The sumptuous lambs wool red draped cardigan was kindly given to me by a friend on Sunday. I love it, plus such a beautiful gift makes me feel wrapped in love.

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Geoff

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On this day last week I went to a funeral for a 15 year old boy.

His name was Geoff. I loved that young man. I wasn’t the only one. He was an extraordinary human being. It was a heartbreaking moment three weeks ago when I received a phone call from a friend in tears telling me that Geoff had died that morning in a mustering accident. Writing is my balm so it is my natural inclination to use this method to record my own tribute of memories for him and my dear friend, Geoff’s mother, Allana.

The funeral was sad, yet it was positive. Even as I write this, that sentence sounds like a contradiction when you are talking about a funeral about a 15 year old boy. However as sad and as tragic as losing such a young life, this young man had such an assured faith in the message of salvation that I don’t think anyone who was at the funeral could have left without considering the positive components of the Christian faith, mostly that in death we can have certainty that as a believer that we will have eternity with our God.

Most people wouldn’t be arguing about the validity of heaven at a graveside. After all, even those who do not fully know embrace a faith do find a heavenly afterlife an appealing suggestion. But for it to be a certainty, to have a confident religious belief that makes both logical sense and for it to change your heart, to to have truly encountered the love of Jesus, you live life differently. You live it so differently that you make a difference in the world and in other people’s lives. Geoff, although young, had a full assurance of his faith and he lived his life differently to your typical teenage boy. He lived it remarkably, and that is why in our sadness, listening about the stories about that young man was such a positive experience.

Let me tell you my memories of Geoff.

Back in 2017 my eldest son, who was in year 5 at the time, made what I found to be an astonishing statement. “Mum, I’ve got a new friend that I’ve been sitting and talking to a lot at lunch time.” I might sound like a mean Mum saying that this was astonishing, but let’s just say I know my son. At that point in time he had his cousin who was his bestie since kindy (and before!) and his one best friend for the past 3 years, and they were always together like glue in what was and continues to be, a rock solid, meaningful friendship. But other children? They were in his orbit, but he didn’t talk about other children all that much.

But then he started talking about a new kid named Geoff. Geoff shared many of Jonty’s same loves: farms, the land, motorbikes and cattle. Jonty would come home chattering about the conversations he had with Geoff.

I can’t remember exactly the day I met Geoff, but I can remember meeting his mother Allana. I know I had met Geoff beforehand and had already verified my suspicions that he was a nice kid, the type of kid who was confident and had a beaming smile that made his eyes sparkle. To Jonty’s delight we changed swimming lesson days and suddenly we were sitting waiting for lessons and there was Geoff also. I was standing poolside one day when a lady approached me and introduced herself as Geoff’s mum and told me that their family were praying for me everyday. This was the year that I discovered that I had cancer. Geoff had heard about this at school and come home and told his family and they all started praying for us. A family they didn’t really know at all. I was so humbled, moved and grateful.

Allana told me how they drove past our house most days and every time Geoff would get excited and tell her that it was his friend Jonty’s house and could they pop in. Knowing Geoff so much better now, I could just hear how enthusiastic his pleas would have been to do this. I’m so glad that when I heard this I told her they should come over and invited them over for playdates. When they did, I fell in love with Geoff and his family a little bit more. His Dad, Darren was quieter than Geoff and Allana. But he was still easy to talk to and had depth as well as a sense of humour and an easy going nature. Alex got along with him really well. Geoff’s two younger brothers were adorable little fellows, also quieter than their big brother. I’d started getting to know them on swimming lesson days and they were soft and sensitive little fellows. Geoff’s little brother Tommy even though quiet could still be a little chatterbox but has a beautiful soft and kind heart and Callum is a shy, but happy and content, little fellow and would happily join in playing with my children.

One day we were waiting beside the carpark at school and Allana commented that we had a mutual friend that Darren used to hang out with their children during his homeschooling days. Knowing the ages of those children, I commented she must be way younger than me. She seriously replied, that she is not that young at all, she’s over 30. My mouth closed as then I tried to stifle a giggle as I informed her that I was over 40. Her eyebrows shot up and her mouth opened but thankfully making no comment on my elderly status! Despite the age difference our friendship blossomed during poolside chats and continued as our children played enthusiastically with one another in between swimming lessons and our families would visit one another’s houses and the kids would run around like wild things playing tag, finding wood to burn bonfires and generally doing things that active boys, and one active girl, do.

From those final years of primary school and beyond I have so many lovely memories of Geoff. Always, always those memories are accompanied by a contagious beaming smile and the enthusiastic sound of his voice. Geoff, spending his birthday money buying not only himself lollies for his birthday but also the other children. Geoff, playing hide and seek in the garden, possibly the only times I can remember him remaining quiet, in his excellent hiding spots, but being a very loud seeker! Geoff, having been unable to clear a high jump bar and knocked out early in a sports competition, but had positioned himself behind the mat and was cheering all the other students on. (No matter which house they were in, although he did cheer particularly loudly for Graham house.) Every time a child would clear the bar he would be in a wild state of elation, jumping, cheering, whooping with the enthusiasm of an Australian Olympic swimming coach. Celebrating the efforts of others. This is one of the clearest memories I have of Geoff the encourager. I keep hearing from other students that Geoff the encourager is a common and widespread theme.

I remember sitting one afternoon for a couple of hours in my dining room helping him write his final speech as primary boy house captain. He had excellent ideas and scriptures for what he wanted to communicate to the primary school but just needed some help with structure and grammar. He spoke about Phar Lap, how he never gave up and how his heart was so large and how that helped him be a winner. I think Geoff himself had a heart larger than Phar Lap’s. I also remember that afternoon Jonty being most disappointed when Allana came to pick up Geoff because in his opinion Geoff had spent far too long with me and he had things he wanted to show Geoff around the farm. Luckily for Jonty and Geoff, Allana and I never did a quick pick up. So they happily ran off while we both chatted, which is what Allana and I do best. During the Year 6 graduation I was so proud of the way my neice Corinne who was the girl’s primary school captain and Geoff presented their speeches. Up until that point, I had never heard year 6 students present speeches to such a high quality.

Jonty and Geoff at their year 6 graduation

I have more memories of Geoff participating in public speaking when he enrolled in a Toastmasters course that my sister and I ran while Jonty and Geoff were in year 7. Unlike my own child, who was softly spoken and a bundle of nerves, (although he did improve), Geoff was confident and showed a natural speaking ability. He shone during impromptu speeches and as an MC. During the final celebratory meeting when all the parents were invited my sister and I decided to choose the little year 7 boy as Toastmaster (MC) of the evening’s proceedings, even though there were students represented from every year level up to year 12. Geoff’s easy going nature and his friendly manner made him the natural choice despite his age. He had the ability to connect with an audience and to put the upcoming speakers at ease.

Geoff and Jonty at their Toastmasters graduation
And another one just because I love the silliness!

Although Jonty had made friends with Geoff at school and for awhile there in the beginning it looked like he might join Jonty’s school bestie crowd, it turned out that they were closer friends outside school. Allana has always said how funny it is that they got to know each other at school yet it was outside of school when they would be best mates. She has said it several times over the years and I can remember once we were at their place and I looked over as she commented. There were the two boys sitting so close to one another they were practically one person, dirt smeared over their faces from being outside in the paddock, heads touching together as they were watching memes on Geoff’s phone and laughing. It was just one of those motherly heartwarming moments. Jonty was an avid handball player and couldn’t imagine lunchtimes without handball. Geoff was not a handball fanatic and so they remained friends but it took a few more years before Geoff found his own bestie, Harry.

Geoff, Jonty and Harry having fun on the farm.

Even though Geoff and Jonty didn’t always hang out at school, they would catch up when we were able to. The Bertrams had a busy social life being very involved in their local church and having a very strong extended family network. Whenever we could work out a time the whole family would be excited. If it was just Geoff coming, the younger kids would be as excited as any celebrity that might come our way. Geoff always found time for the little kids, sometimes it was to Jonty’s annoyance. I can remember him complaining bitterly once over how much the kids jumped over Geoff and that it was embarrassing. They would even be more excited if we were catching up with the whole family. I had bumped into Allana in the shopping centre on the Thursday before Geoff died. She had made a meal for us because I was doing radiation and feeling a bit fatigued. I told her that we would far prefer to eat it with them if they were free. She agreed to do that, and then hesitated and said that Darren was thinking of going out to a relative’s property that they loved. She said she wasn’t sure they were going to, so she’d get back to me. That night I mentioned that I’d seen Mrs. Bertram and maybe we would have dinner with them on Saturday. Jonty’s head shot up from his dinner and his face beamed with excitement. The kids started bouncing in anticipation. Then I reiterated the word “might” and said that they may go out to the farm. The kids became quite matter of factly resigned at that point and decided that the farm would be a far greater drawcard, especially for Geoff. Oh, how I wish that we had that dinner.

The family had made it to the farm, at Geoff’s insistence and enthusiasm, working very hard the day before to make it happen for the family, who had a busy week. The next morning they made their way to the farm and on the way Geoff had a jubilient moment singing loudly about the glorious day when God would lead him into the promised land. It was not long later that he was in his Heavenly Father’s hands.

Our house has heard a lot of memories about Geoff being told over the past few weeks. And also so many reflections indicating how inspirational Geoff’s life has been. The memories of Geoff may be bittersweet, but they make us happy. The day after the funeral Jonty commented how he feels happier just hearing so many stories of how great Geoff is. One of the things Jonty has been sad about is the fact that finally he had been starting to find more times to connect with Geoff at school. He’s also found the conversation has flown more freely. Once Jonty is on a roll he is incredibly eloquent. But he can also be a bit socially awkward. I can remember in primary school him coming home and declaring that he needed to head out to Grandad’s farm. I asked why and he replied, “Because I need some more stories to talk to Geoff about!” By the end of last year and into this year it seems Jonty is finally cementing the art of small talk. It really is a learned skill for some people! Even Geoff had noticed it and had commented about how it was getting easier to talk to Jonty to Allana. I will always be appreciative that Geoff was the type of fellow that could maintain a meaningful friendship that they both valued even though there were awkward moments.

They were always best together when there was something to do. There is an agricultural show called “Farm Fest” in our local area. Allana and I would always pull our kids out of school and take them for a day. Part of their agricultural education. We would always try to coordinate times to meet up. It only happened once, and even then we left Jonty with the Bertrams because we had to get some other kids to soccer training. It was Jonty’s happiest Farm Fest ever. He also brought home the most loot ever. Geoff was far more bold than Jonty and would approach vendors with confidence asking if there was anything they would give away. Jonty came home with a plethora of caps, rulers, stickers, pens, etc.

Farm Fest!

Late last year they had started riding their motorbikes around the property we lived together. They loved the increased sense of freedom and adventure. As a mother, I loved how responsible they were together. Having fun, but riding safely within their ability levels. (That was Jonty’s own words of assurance to me.)

In July, it was Jonty’s 15th birthday. A few weeks later it was Geoff’s. Jonty wanted to have a small group of mates over and camp down the back paddock.(He has extended his friendship net over the years!) It was so important to him that Geoff was there. Geoff with all his family and church commitments had missed a few of Jonty’s parties and Jonty had never quite got over the disappointment that he didn’t get to show Geoff his favourite farm out West during his 13th party. I checked the dates with Allana and then went ahead and luckily it lined up for his other friends as well. I always feel honoured when parents trust their children with me, so I had been messaging the mothers throughout the evening and sending photos. At one point I had said about how responsible all the young men were and I’m just so proud of the group of guys Jonty hangs out with. They were all so polite, they looked out for each other and were patient with the younger children. I did mention that Geoff was by far the loudest. I could almost see Allana rolling her eyes as she typed back, “He always is!” But everyone laughed the loudest when Geoff was around also.

One of the greatest gifts Jonty and Geoff gave me when they became friends was that I too gained a beautiful friend. Despite the age gap I have always got on so easily with Allana. We just get one another. Even if it’s that we get how hard it is to keep a house tidy! And oh my goodness, how we can talk. And yet at the end when we have to leave, I feel regret that there’s far more to say! When I received my diagnosis that the cancer was no longer in remission I had lunch with Allana a few weeks afterwards. She said that she had cried for a full week thinking about that diagnosis. In fact Darren had to take her aside and remind her that even though she’s sad for her friend she has three beautiful boys of her own and they need her too! I’ve thought a lot about that advice Darren has given over the past three weeks. (Even now as I need to take my glasses off while I type because the tears are fogging them up.) It is my turn to cry with and for her. With Darren’s wisdom echoing in my head I’ve cried my tears and still carried on caring for the family and trying to keep up with life. Even writing this blog has taken so much longer than I have wanted. I started with “Today I went to a funeral” “Today”, changed to “yesterday” which changed to “this week” until it is what you read above. I wanted to lock myself in a room and pour my heart out through my fingers, but the word, “Mum” kept interrupting me. If anything the past weeks have taught me is that it is a blessing to have your children every minute of the day because as wearying as the fighting and interruptions are, the unconditional love and joy of family togetherness is far greater.

My heart aches for the level of pain that Darren and Allana are experiencing along with Geoff’s little brothers. I am also in complete admiration for the way they have honoured their son’s memory and been an incredible witness of how much hope we have in God despite being in the midst of the darkest tragedy. Almost every time that I text or speak to Allana she says, “God has been so kind…” and then will tell a story of kindness that happened to her that day. It is a time when many parents facing similar circumstances might understandably raise their fists in their air and yell, “Why?” Yet Allana tells stories of how God has been beside them through every moment. Their faith in their God is inspirational. (I know I keep using that word, but the thesaurus has no suitable substitute.) They have illustrated that a sweet trust in God brings far more peace than raging and blaming God. (Although God still loves people through their rage and blame if that is what happens when they grieve.)

Allana and I at my birthday last year.

I know I will never miss Geoff as much as his family will. But I miss him incredibly. I also miss him on behalf of my boy. Last Sunday Jonty was talking to his grandfather and arranged to go to a bull auction with him. He was jumping around excitedly when he suddenly doubled over and groaned. I didn’t know what happened and how he had experienced such sudden pain. When he straightened up he said, “I just realised that I can’t tell Geoff about this tomorrow.” They had always shared a love of cattle. When Jonty got his first cow he was so proud to print a picture of her and trot off to school with it to show Geoff. At his 15th party, he was very proud to show Geoff a picture of her calves. Every time, Geoff examined the photos in detail, asked a bunch of questioned and always shared his trademark enthusiasm. I cry at the thought that Geoff isn’t looking out for Jonty anymore. I got a text from Allana early last year saying that Geoff was worried Jonty was being bullied. He wasn’t. Well, the kid was mean, but it was nothing Jonty couldn’t shrug off. His response was, “That kid bullies everyone Mum, including the teachers.” But it made me feel good knowing that Geoff was the type of friend looking out for a slightly, (even though he is getting better), awkward friend.

I knew that Jonty and Geoff had a friendship that was going to last the years. I grieve the thought that they won’t be getting their licenses around the same time, graduating, getting jobs, going out to one another’s farms (because they both would have been doing something on the land) and examining each others crops, cows or whatever industry they were involved in. I’m sad they won’t be at each other’s weddings or thanking God and rejoicing at baby dedications when their children were born. I know Geoff is in a better place. But, oh my. It hurts that he’s not on earth with us anymore.

Thank you for living 15 amazing years Geoff and for sharing them with us.

My favourite picture of Allana and my boys.

The post Geoff appeared first on Caitlin's Happy Heart.

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