Daffodil Day

Tomorrow is Daffodil Day - Daffodil day is for all of us to grow hope for a brighter, cancer-free future.
The Daffodil represents a bright growth for a healthy future.
The Daffodil is the international symbol of hope for all touched by cancer.
This year this day means a lot more to me than any other year.
Sam Stynes, wife of the late Jim Stynes spoke recently on 3AW about this "hideous" disease.  She spoke from the heart and was brutally honest as to how cancer affects your life.  Some might say that some of her comments about Jim were cruel, but they need to remember that this was her husband.  She loved him deeply and this crippling disease shattered the lives of her, their kids and the family.
If you haven't been touched by this evil, you are one of the lucky one's.
I used to think I was a very strong person, but each time I hear the mention of cancer now, tears well in my eyes.
I hate that my mum is battling this disease, that she is spending her days in and out of hospital.
And now she is hooked up to a machine to drain the excess bad blood from her, as her wound still has not closed from her last operation around six weeks ago.  Somebody give my mum a break!!!
Further treatment is now delayed until her wound has healed. It feels like we have taken one step forward and six steps backward.
Today I was walking towards a lady who clearly was having treatment for some form of cancer.  She had no hair and was wearing a warm beanie to try and keep her head warm.  The pale skin, dark eyes, look of extreme sickness on her face.  I gave her the biggest smile that I could - a smile and expression on my face to show that I really cared. It hit me then, that in a few months time, that is what my mum will look like.  And I hope that when people see her, they to will give her a nice warm smile to make her day.
Today I bought mum the biggest teddy bear that you could buy to support Daffodil Day.  I hope it will bring her comfort and be her friend on this "interesting" journey.



Please support Daffodil Day tomorrow and give to Cancer Research.  You never know when it will touch the life of someone that you love.

Realisation

Realise the value

To realise
The value of a sister/brother
Ask someone
Who doesn't have one.

To realise
The value of ten years:
Ask a newly
Divorced couple.

To realise
The value of four years:
Ask a graduate.

To realise
The value of one year:
Ask a student who
Has failed a final exam.

To realise
The value of nine months:
Ask a mother who gave birth to a stillborn.

To realise
The value of one month:
Ask a mother
Who has given birth to
A premature baby.

To realise
The value of one week:
Ask an editor of a weekly newspaper.

To realise
The value of one minute:
Ask a person
Who has missed the train, bus or plane.

To realise
The value of one second:
Ask a person
Who has survived an accident.

Time waits for no one.

Treasure every moment you have.

You will treasure it even more when
You can share it with someone special.

To realise the value of a friend or family member:

LOSE ONE.

Remember....

Hold on tight to the ones you love!

To realise the value of hope

Talk to a cancer survivor or someone battling cancer

To realise the value of supporting breast cancer research

Please don’t wait until you’re effected by it.

Kindness of a stranger

Sometimes people come into your life for a reason, they may only stay a few moments, but they leave their footprints on your heart.
This happened to me today - one person who stayed a moment, gave an insight, a warm smile, and one person who shared something personal and who is going to be a big part of my life for a while now.
Imagine having a conversation with someone and an elderly lady is standing beside you, smiling at you, begging to be acknowledged. This lady wanted to tell me that my mum was going to be ok, that she would have hair again by Christmas, that she too had been on this journey and it was an "interesting" journey.  I agreed with her on that last point!!! And all the time, she gave me the most caring smile and locked eyes with mine, eyes that yearned for me to have belief for the future. I know I will see this lady again on my travels, and next time I do, I will say thank you.  Thank you for your kind words, your smile, your belief.
The second person who shared a very personal story with me, shocked me a little.  They have only just come into my life, but they are going to play an integral part in my future. Within moments of them knowing that my mum was battling breast cancer, they informed me that they understood what my mum was going through, that they too have battled the disease and they are hoping for the 12 month "all clear" in the coming months.
What a journey - this disease affects someone in some way.
I spoke with my mum tonight about her current tests, appointments, future treatment and also mentioned to her about these people that had shared their stories with me today.
She makes me so proud to call her my MUM.
 Her strength is returning, her willingness to now ask questions - to want to know what it is going to be like to lose her hair and eyebrows, to want to participate in a workshop to learn how to draw on eyebrows and do her make up so that she does not look sick.  Wow, my mum is a fighter.  Everyone who knows my mum, knows that she is as strong as an ox. She battles on through every injection, every test, giving up all of her privacy to the surgeons, oncologists, nurses who are helping her to live.
I have no doubt that when she has her first round of chemo in just over a week, I will shed a tear for her. One of my friends recently told me that with my mum's army of girls around her, she will fight this. I love that we are referred to as an army.  I can just imagine me and my three sisters fully kitted out in artillery uniforms, war paint on our faces, machine guns blaring, blasting this nasty disease out of my mum's body.
Tomorrow as my mum goes through more injections and scans, I will remember the kindred spirits who touched my heart today.
 Who left their footprints on my soul for me to tiptoe on to get us through these coming months.

A mini escape

The kids and I are just about to set off on the ferry from Sorrento to Queenscliff for a mini escape at Torquay.  You know the famous Bells Beach where the world class surfing competition is held each Easter?
I just wanted some time with them before I start my new job.
It's been one heck of a trying, crying year!
The long commutes for me for my past work, plus the early morning drive ups for mum's operations - and the endless other visits to her also. There has been days where my kids have been asleep before I have left, and they are back in bed when I get home again at some spooky hour.
So, this little escape is all about them being able to spend time with their mummy.  Their daddy will join us at the beginning of next week as he has to work crazy hours over the weekend.
I'm looking forward to daily coffee and treat dates with them, playing on a different beach, hanging at parks and not having to worry about rushing home to do housework. Swimming (in the indoor pool!), meandering different towns and shops, singing, dancing and basically having endless amounts of fun whilst creating some holiday memories.
It's amazing how much stuff you have to pack when taking two kiddies away.  Lots of nice and warm clothes - and I didn't forget to pack colouring in books, reading books, Lego and the Thomas trains and tracks this time.  Coops even made sure that I had packed a box of trains and his Gruffalo activity books!

The countdown is on, in 1.5 hours we will be on the ferry, cruising the beautiful bay in search of serenity, good family times and togetherness. Endless cuddles and a chance for me to just play mummy.

Hope

For the first time in just under three months, today my family was given Hope.
Sitting beside my mum when her surgeon said "Great news, the cancer was not in the four lymph nodes or the extra tissue we removed" - I felt like I could finally breathe properly. Like someone had finally said, it is going to be ok.
I saw my mum smile, as in a real smile, the first time in months, where you could tell she was relieved.
This means for her no more operations, a treatment plan will now be worked out, and she meets with her surgeon and oncologist next week.
However, she needs to recover, before this can begin.
She has spent the last week in hospital with breathing issues.  There are issues with her lungs and she had to rely on oxygen for days to help her to breathe. She has a meeting with a lung specialist in just over a week to discuss her CT results. Now we hope that everything will be fine with her lungs.
It's been a really tough journey so far, each operation has tested her strength and fight to win this battle.
Being isolated for the last week and visitors having to wear "duck" masks just in case she had an infection - at least we saw some humour in these masks and could laugh during this difficult time.
Cancer, it creates bonds with complete strangers. As we sat in the waiting room today, we engaged in conversation with women who were at different stages fighting this gremlin - women undergoing chemo, women who had been operated on, women who were just about to have their first biopsy, and one woman who had decided that she wasn't going to fight the battle, she just wanted to go about her daily life without operating.  We spoke with this ladies son whilst she was in with the surgeon and nurses - he said he couldn't do anything to convince his mum to fight this.  Her husband had passed away and she missed him considerably, she didn't see the will to fight. This man spoke at great lengths with my dad - even my dad has grown through this journey.  He has had to overcome his dislike of hospitals to spend hours, daily visiting his wife. My dad spoke of his four daughters, and how we are like glue and stick together through everything.  Basically, how we are different to a lot of people. He told me this once we had left - I could tell he was proud of us.  I felt like he knew we are doing everything we can to get mum better, and looking after him along the way too.
For once I drove home with a glimmer of hope, that finally for the first time I can see our mum having a chance at winning this race.
When I cuddled and played with my little boys tonight, I cried tears of relief, kissed them endlessly and told them how much I loved them. Cooper responding with "we love you too mum".  Ohhhhh, that is what I really needed from one of my little men.
To all of my friends who I have neglected over the past few months, I am so sorry that I haven't had the time to spend with you.  I know you understand that this has been one hell of a marathon - it still continues, but with today we have been given HOPE.

Innocence

This sweet little guy of ours is going to be four next month - WOW!

The top four photo's were taken a couple of days ago, he insisted on stripping of his pants to dip his toes in the water. His response - "It's cold!"

The innocence of children, it's amazing to witness. They live their lives so carefree, at a million miles an hour, telling you exactly how things are.

We have some wonderful conversations with Cooper - "What do you want to be when you grow up, a fireman, a policeman, a builder?" His response " I just want to be big, just want to be big Cooper"  And he is so right, he will be big, oh the innocence.

I love it when he calls me mum and I don't respond to him straight away.  I am then met with him yelling "Buffy"!! I love it that he thinks I am called mummy Buffy.

To think that this time four years ago, we were playing the waiting game to meet this little guy (oops, he wasn't that little, he was 9 pound 5 ounces - OUCH!)

And we wondered if he was a pink or a blue one, thought about what this little person would look like, what personality he would have.  

In four years, we have created so many incredible memories. He is so much like both of us - he loves to read on the toilet, have chocolate coffees in his squishy take away cup, play at the beach - and boy can he talk like me!!!

Cooper, you have a wonderful caring nature, an ability to make me smile as soon as you come into our bed in the morning (or during the night), saying, "it's just me Cooper". I love that you are still happy to kiss and cuddle me when I drop you at creche - and when I pick you up, you tell me how much you have missed me. I admire your sneaky skills to sidetrack me to swipe my phone, so you can go and play games or check out you tube.  You make my heart melt with the way you watch out for your brother Charlie (even though at times he is determined to get out of your grasp). Your "good morning Charlie" and "good night Charlie" make me feel so proud that we have raised you to share the love.

You are too funny saying you are "one" and that you are not turning four. Don't worry munchkin, you are still our little guy.

Don't you wish that we could all still be living an innocent childhood?

I can't wait till my almost four year old wakes up tomorrow and starts singing "la,la, la,la,la,la sing a happy song! The smurfs are in full swing at our place at the moment - now, that is bringing back memories of my childhood.

Strength in numbers

It's always there, it never leaves your mind, it's either at the forefront, or purposely jammed right into the back crevice of your brain. What will the future hold?

Fear - fear of the unknown, the clock is ticking.
Hope - we hold out hope that the operation she has just endured, will bring some good news

It crushes your soul to see someone fight for their life, to see their strong character slowly eaten away.  To hear them question their ability to fight the disease. To tackle each obstacle that is getting in the way of them leading a happy life.

And now she has a fighting spirit.  After recovering from pneumonia, she now can laugh, eat chocolate again and smile.  Even though she is extremely bruised and swollen from this recent operation, her desire to beat this horrible disease is stronger than its ever been.

It's amazing the wonderful, caring people that you meet on what is a heart wrenching journey.  The nurses, doctors, surgeons, survivors - the people that contact you to share "their" story of a loved one who has fought this disease, who is fighting this disease.........who has lost their battle to this disease.

We now have connections with people who will give us their shoulders to cry on when the going gets tough, who will sit and laugh with us to give us hope, who will silently be thinking of us every minute of every day.

This journey only begun two months ago, and we still have a long way to go, but my mum is a fighter and this disease will not beat her, or my family!