2 posts tagged “cancer drugs”

Dear P

I went through some of your belongings today and came across all the drugs you have been taking. The volume and variety terrifies me.  You poor, poor girl. I fill a large shoe box and have decided to keep them safe so that I can show them to the boys when they are old enough. I want them to gain a sense of what you endured to keep yourself alive. 

Your mum has been a tremendous help in keeping the house ticking over whilst I go to work and basically look after myself. The three of us work well together and in the circumstances are coping remarkably.

In the afternoon I had the novel experience of going to the hairdressers for the first time in five years. You had always been our stylist, usually on a Sunday night as part of a conveyor belt that included the boys. It's these little things that trip me up. If I was ever working in the loft when you returned from a visit to town, within seconds you would telephone  from below and ask, "Cup of tea ?".  Never again.

Yet more beautiful letters of condolence each with a glowing tribute. They are at the once uplifting and terribly sad.

Love

M

Dear P

I feel flat, literally, like I've been hit by a bus.  Yet there is no time to sit and grieve because all the administration associated with your death has to be completed. In one sense it's a relief to do something positive amongst all the sadness.  And of course the boys need to go to school so I'm up early getting them washed, dressed and fed before they leave home at 8.35am. They are brilliant and it helps to have your mum and dad to provide support.

Once they have gone I begin the agonising round of 'phone calls to close friends. All are shocked and saddened by the news and there is much crying.

I spend some time going through your rucksack and find myself welling up at its contents: pictures of the boys in your purse, your beautifully maintained filofax, with a picture of me from 1988, (I didn't even know you had kept that) and chillingly a list of all the drugs you have been taking recently.

At 2.00pm the three of us go to New Cross to collect the cause of death certificate. We then see Dr Mehra, in whom you had placed the untmost trust.  He explained what had happened and was genuinely surprised by how quickly you had gone downhill following radiotherapy to your brain. He told us that your brain tumours were very close to a sensitive area which controls breathing and sight and that they were in danger of shutting you down at any time.  This would explain all the concern prior to you coming to France a fortnight ago. He'd also told you, that the tumours on you liver were not responding to treatment and that when you got better you would have to undergo yet more chemotherapy.  To know this, having just completed a nine month course, must have been devastating. It would have dented even your incredibly positive outlook. He went on to say that you were a bright woman who had fought hard, but who always understood the enormity of what you were facing. It was all very sobering and only added to the enormous sense of respect that we have for you. .

We go to the Registrar in Wolverhampton, to record your death and then to Jennings the Undertakers to arrange the  funeral for Tuesday 16th May at 1.30pm.

Back home for a cup of tea and a chat with my brother who has come down from Hull.  He is very cut up.

I cook comfort food in the evening. Spaghetti Bolognaise, which the boys love and devour without a word. Life for them goes on.

Love

M