Another week passes by and our family has felt all stages of grief at this stage. Different stages ping back and forth for each of us and when someone is feeling ok, someone else is low. We are phoning, texting and supporting each other through this awful time. As a neighbour of my mother’s describes death is so final.
Without following up with the hospital for my breast ultrasound I received a telephone call on Monday for an appointment on Tuesday. Hubby insisted that he would accompany me. He was afraid that I would be on my own if a biopsy was needed. I did not experience any of the usual anxiety that I would/should have. Strangely I still felt calm going into the scan room, I thought I would be a basket case because that’s where I was diagnosed the last time or when I knew intuitively that the cancer had returned. I kept saying Mam will mind me and somehow I got through it. The Doctor told me straight away that it was normal and explained what the thickening I had was, and how it becomes more obvious as we get older. The elation we felt was short lived as the reality of my mother being gone settled like swirling sediment in muddy water. I would normally ring her with the good news… I am due a follow up appointment with my Oncologist next week but at this stage have no real concerns. Confidence in my body’s health has returned and all the doubts I had before are now gone. It has taken a long time to get here and I am aware not many are privileged to be in this position so despite all that is happening in our lives I feel grateful.
A week before my mother died I was in a book shop and picked up a book on spiritual healing. I hadn’t bought a book like that in a long time and to this day I don’t know what propelled me to buy it. It is the only book I can read at the moment and it is giving me some comfort. There is a piece in it that encourages us to grieve and that it is a normal and natural process. A few months ago when sympathising with someone who was recently bereaved I advised that they should allow themselves to grieve. I now realise how important that advice was.