Reality Bites

Aug 28 2009

Camille's Chemotherapy was relatively quick; as I arrived on Wednesday morning she looked a little unwell but still quite chatty and asking for food and "Balloon Ride" (a Peppa Pig episode she has seen a million times). During the morning she was sick and has been once a day since the Chemotherapy, but she does seem to handle it so well. As soon as she has managed to heave her last heave,she sits back and carries on doing what she was doing. It's quite impressive really; I personally have a major phobia of vomiting and will do anything to prevent myself from Hugging Shanks. I am really proud of her, she takes all of this in her stride and her stride seems to be lengthening by the day. She even seems to love going to hospital, just so she can shout at Banana Mick the chef and play stickers with Carole.

We got home mid-afternoon after picking Lucia up en route from Nanny and Granddad's house. She was only there for a couple of nights and wasn't any trouble getting home. She has been known to leave nail marks in their drive, clawing to stay for one more sleepover.

Hayley and our friend Sally went for a meeting to try and book the venue for the Christmas Black-Tie event on Thursday. The room was perfect and although the price is higher than we wanted, everything else seems to fit in quite well. We're busy trying to find "money can't buy" auction items. My friend Alice is a pretty well renowned photographer and her prints go for a lot of money. She has donated a print of Tom Jones which we are getting signed by the big man, and we've also nailed four tickets in an Executive Box at Ipswich and potentially a tour of Stansted Airport (all bidders will have their backgrounds fully screened). Things are falling into place really nicely.

Whilst searching for a venue we also stumbled across a place to hold a New Years Eve party. Our friends Emma and Hayley are taking the reins on this one and creating a Hootenanny right here in Suffolk.

I had my first meeting today since diagnosis. It was a nice simple one a few miles down the road, but it was still strange to put the suit and glasses back on. If the truth be known, I am struggling, struggling with everything. Right at the beginning I was shocked and distraught and trying so very hard to be a pillar for everybody else. Now as things change and we evolve into this new stage of treatment I find myself lost, and very scared.

I find myself now, more than ever before looking at Camille and wondering why, I have no idea what's going to happen tomorrow, next week, next month. All I know is that she is perfect, and that my little girl is broken. Hayley has had this harder than anybody, as she can't sleep, she is constantly picturing a future that is bleak to say the least; I have forced myself to consider only positive outcomes. With my feelings comes, not toughness, but a fragility. When you are constantly fighting for your family, every time you are given negative news, criticised (even about day to day things) or seeing Camille suffering, a little bit of this front gets chipped away. I have no answers for how to rebuild this front, I'm pretty sure at some point I will break down. I have no idea whether I am doing the right things or the wrong things, or whether my approach matters in the grand scheme of things.

Next week is when I start to go back out to meetings properly, this could be a really defining moment for me and the family. I know what I am expecting from it, and I am not looking forward to it. Maybe I can carry on as I have been; chin up, look for the positives and trying to offer stability to a rather topsy turvy situation.