Blogging blues, beautiful children and blubbing about not-coping with Cancer
Who’d have thought something so silly could tip me over the edge? With all this MAD blog awards stuff in my head, voting currently going on and the pressure of competing with some fantastic blogs, I thought it would be the perfect time to get my blog the way I want it. All I wanted was a new header, with more subtle colours and LOTS of black and white photos of my gorgeous girls. I wanted a new theme so I could showcase more photos and so my header could go right the way across. I couldn’t get it the way I wanted. I had so much to do today. I have spent HOURS trying to do what should have took twenty minutes, and gotten… nowhere. Nothing has changed. It didn’t work. I failed in every attempt.
Here are some of the photos I wanted to put in my header:
My girls and my husband are my world. Is it too much to ask to put some of my favourite photos of them on my blog? So much for the second blog and the business I wanted to start – if I can’t manage some basic edits!
Getting worked up much? Yes I am. It even upsets me that nobody wanted to caption my sodding SatCap photo this morning! My house is untidy, I’ve no food in for dinner and I haven’t eaten well this past week. I have a massive to-do list before I go back into hospital and I am feeling so chuffing tired. I would love nothing more than to cuddle up in bed with a movie and my three girls, hot chocolate and a book. But I can’t because I am losing my independence in 36 hours as I go in for my next surgery.
Coping or not Coping with Cancer?
After having the first part of my Cancer cut out, it took me a good two weeks to recover. I couldn’t lift my own children in that time and that broke my heart. Even more heartbreaking was the two days in hospital, where I couldn’t even see them. I found it really hard having to let people do things for me for a while. The pain wasn’t pleasant, neither was the swelling, the vomiting, the internal bleeding, not being able to see anything after the anaesthetic and then having to go back in for a second anaesthetic. The drugged feeling for several days afterwards and the waking up to a 92 year old hovering precariously over my bed at 3am.
I’m tired and I haven’t even gone in yet. I had nightmares last night about being away from my girls. So knowing that at 7:30am on Monday I will be going under the knife again, is not great for me right now. I’ve stayed strong for so long, with only a few emotionally wobbly days. I’m scared of things going wrong again like they did last time. I’m scared of finding out the Cancer has spread. Or not knowing whether it has spread. I’ve got such a weight on my shoulders that I’m in floods of tears and I just want my husband here to hold me; but he is at work. I guess this is what I’d call “not-coping”.