The “H” bomb pt 1

How old are you? How many children do you have? What are your fertility plans?

Ok, we know where this is going, don’t we? Let’s not dick around.

Hysterectomy. What a word. Horrible. In fact, Total hysterectomy, just to really rub it in. Followed by immediate menopause. Yay. Go me.

Day 1 of processing what I have to look forward to. Throw into the mix the old ticker and I’m full of the joys. Not.

Well not strictly true. I’m sat looking out at the historic dockyard whilst waiting for a ferry to the IOW. The sun is going down and the birds are circling. Of course it could be worse.

I totally expected this. As soon as I realised that I could no longer blame lockdown for my growing, slightly odd shaped stomach, I got it checked out. The nurse was great, straight for referral. Several prods and scans later and here we are. It looks like I’ll have the surgery in the new year.

Now of course this isn’t the only thing that has been happening for me in the last year, I’m more than aware of the massive gap since my last post. Truth is, I have really resisted writing as I have been worried that if I did, I might not know when to stop. Well, too bad suckers, here it is. Strap yourselves in. Who knew that a life changing diagnosis coupled with a mini bottle of M&S Chardonnay were enough to set the creative juices flowing once more? 😂

A couple of days later and things feel calmer. That’s what a break to my family home on the Isle of Wight does, it calms me. As I head back, I feel more able to comprehend and deal with what is to come.

Things have changed significantly for me since my last post which has really been why I have found it so hard to write. There is of the course the likelihood that it could have been just what I needed. Written words are like tears though, I couldn’t be sure when they would stop.

My Mum died in August 2020. Single most devastating, life changing thing to have happened to me and my family. I am changed, I know that.

We knew she was near the end. She also knew. We’d celebrated her birthday with her a couple of weeks earlier, knowing that would be her last. We took photos, trying to capture every last moment. It felt so wrong and so right at the same time.

When the time was near, I was lucky to be able to leave work and go. My Stepdad had done such a wonderful job of making her comfortable at home. As a family, we’re forever grateful for that. He’d thought of everything.

We just hung out. Chatting, some of it made sense, some of it didn’t. Sometimes I think, should I have said something more profound, more meaningful? We knew it was close, but not that that would be our last evening together. So, we talked about the usual, Coronation St, when was Jeff going to get his comeuppance? She liked my jeans.

When I went to bed, I said “night, see you in the morning.” She’d been getting her words a bit mixed up and said “love you in the morning.”

The morning came.

The employer that I had at the time was great and I was able to stay at home to support my stepdad. So much to do, let alone the actual grieving. We also had to consider my grandma who lived next door. She had just lost her daughter and yet we had to acknowledge that my stepdad couldn’t look after her on his own. We had to arrange for her to go into a care home. Me, my brother, sister and stepdad all came together brilliantly to navigate our way through.

The funeral was actually really lovely. We had a celebrant who was great and it was so nice to see friends and family, particularly during these Covid times. We were fortunate (if you can say that) that the restrictions had lifted enough for us to have 30 people and we streamed the service to those that couldn’t attend.

Back at the house, we had a playlist that we’d all put together, some lovely food and drink and the sun was shining. We told stories and looked through old photos. It was really lovely. It was almost as if Mum was there but just popped in to put the kettle on. Maybe she was.

It wasn’t long after that I was told that my job would be ending at Christmas. I was on a fixed term contract so there was always a possibility but at one point it had looked promising. I loved where I worked and felt like I was making good progress but, Covid times and all that. Perhaps naively I thought I would find another job reasonably soon and that I would start again after Christmas.

Well that didn’t happen. For one, we all got Covid. Horrible. It’s so hard to describe how it felt, other than weird. It really played with my mind too, worrying what impact it would have on my heart. I recovered well, seemingly with no long term effects.

Job hunting took 3 months in the end. We were lucky that Mum had left a bit of money for us. I wish I didn’t have to spend it on that, but at least I had it. I found a new job in April. So far so good.

I could go on but there is a danger that could take another 3 months so I’ll leave it here for now! Part 2 to follow (at some point…)