Another day

A year ago today I met a fantastic woman who has become a brilliant friend.  Although our journeys have been slightly different, we started in the same way, under the surgeons knife in Wycombe Hospital.

Today is the anniversary of my op.  I have, for some obscure reason, found this morning tougher than the anniversary of my diagnosis.  I cannot fathom why this would be as I have never really been THAT concerned about having it lopped off as you will already know.

Any wobbles I can only put down to not having a day out with the children planned to distract me - the trip to Woburn on the 10th was a militarily planned operation - tickets purchased in advance, cloak of mystery developed to tease the children and everything prepaid so no need to worry about anything.  This is not to say I did not wobble at all on the day - I had one slight hiccup when I could not find the entrance to the Sea Lion theatre for the 3 o'clock show.  The disabled access to the theatre is practically non existent and I ended up at the bottom of the theatre with a long steep flight of stairs between me and the entrance.  For some reason it became the most important part of the day that we did not miss the sea lion show.  Yeah yeah, I know it is just a sea lion show, we've seen it 100 times at Whipsnade but it became absolutely imperative that I did not fail at this.  I think it is one of the most mortifying moments of my life that when a member of staff came up to help, having been alerted by a colleague that I was looking for assistance ,I was in the middle of a flood of tears.  I was so embarrassed and there was NO WAY I was about to explain!  The gentleman very kindly let us into the theatre through the bottom fire escape, brought us our 3D glasses for the cinema experience after the sea lion show and there we sat for a slightly-squirming-with-embarrassment half an hour as the show didn't start until 3.30pm...

Note to self: NEVER EVER have another meltdown in public. 

I think if I am totally honest, my slightly more fragile state of mind is due to the fact that my fabulous Dad is currently residing in hospital having had an enormous operation to remove a cancerous tumour from his pancreas.  This involved the removal of half his pancreas, his entire gall bladder and some of his small intestine.  He is doing brilliantly, now back on solids and the surgeons seem to have reconnected him properly as everything is now working again.  Sorry.  Was that a bit too much information?  Anyway,  I am sure if you know my Dad you will join me in wishing him well. 

I think it is perhaps a little too close to the bone to have my Dad going through surgery and chemo within a year of my journey starting and this is why it is dwelling in my mind so much.

Having said that, and rambled on about my anniversaries this is not to say I am in any way cowed by this.  I got through it.  So can he.  Plus, although I have marked two significant anniversaries this time, I have no intention of a repeat performance in future.  They will again become just ordinary days and I will, in years to come, have to think hard to recall the dates of it all. 

Having said that, I reserve the right to feel extremely nauseous on 18th June.