Tuesday 21 May 2019

All the Cs

(with apologies, I wrote most of this over a month ago.......)

Well. That was a fucking waste of time.

When I was emailing the fertility clinic to try and sort an appointment with them, the latest time I was told we could book was 3.30pm (which meant I had to sneak out of work at 2pm!!) as they close at 5pm and that's how long initial appointments took. Hhmmmmm. On the day, it turned out that we went in at 3.45pm and were done by 4.15pm. The quickest £200 I think I've ever spent. It was all incredibly impersonal, it felt like a business transaction and a sales pitch. Nothing personal at all, nothing to make us think that they were aware of the sensitivity or pain that might come with the person they were talking to - us or someone else. The doctor didn't introduce himself to us and told us absolutely nothing that we didn't know already. Went through our historical tests in a very matter-of-fact, practical, way and then told us about how the immune system reacts to pregnancy and that, if we wanted, we could have additional tests with them to check if my immune system was attacking any potential embryo - at a cost of £800. He asked no lifestyle questions at all despite what we'd listed on our forms and we were told to go back to our doctors for more blood tests, another scan for me and another semen analysis for hubby. And that was that. Bye from him. We were then ushered to a Nurse who was one of those 'I think I'm so hilarious and I'm your best friend' people which we just found very very grating. We both left not wanting to give them any more of our money.

The following weekend, I found out that my Dad has bone cancer and will start chemo shortly. They've found it early and he has an 80% chance of beating it but he'll always be in remission if he does and, you know, it's cancer and chemo on an already fragile almost 70 year old with early onset Alzheimers. The whole family were round at my parents and my mum took the two oldest nephews to the park by their house leaving me, my brother, my sister in law and my niece (who is still under 2) with my Dad. Due to his dementia he'd obviously wanted to make sure he was saying the right things and hadn't missed anything out so had typed and printed out his little speech to read. Because of where I was sitting compared to where my brother was sitting I saw the first sentence before Dad said it, despite him trying to hide it from me, so I had about ten seconds to process it before Dad said the words out loud. My brother didn't hear him correctly so I repeated it. My brother stopped what he was doing, put his head in his hands and sobbed. Actually sobbed, and didn't take his face out of his hands until Dad had stopped talking. When he did it was bright red and so SIL went to sit next to him. I asked all the questions that had come into my head whilst sat alone on the other side of the room. It was quite sobering to see my brother like that.

Once all the questions were over, SIL took my niece to the front door to wait for the others to get back from the park and Dad followed them. My brother took me in the biggest bear hug ever. This is someone who shows no emotion to me at all. Has only ever kissed my cheek once in the past 20 years and that was on my wedding day, I think the last time he hugged me before this was ten years ago. It's just not in his character. We held each other until we heard the front door go, pulled ourselves together and awaited the onslaught of the boys. We were all then back in the same room and the first thing, the very first thing, my SIL said to my Mum is about the logistics of childcare as my Mum won't be around as much due to Dad's chemo (his chemo is scheduled for the same day a week that she currently has their kids). The very first thing she said, whilst my brother was sat next to her with a still very red and puffy face from the sobbing. I mean, fair enough, she's a mum of three who earns fuck all it's bound to cross her mind - but the VERY FIRST thing you say?!?!? I had no words.

This has, of course, exacerbated my Mum's emotional neediness. To be fair, her life has already taken quite the hit with the dementia and of course this isn't what anyone signs up for in retirement. But she clings to me like a limpet, my brother is obviously far too busy with a stressful job and three children to ask him to do things or be in touch with him so frequently so it falls on me. There was one day recently she texted me at 2pm and again at 5pm, both of which times I was at work and I would have remembered to text her back later that evening or the following morning, but by 8pm I had a 'are you ok? Is anything wrong?' text..........

The day after Dad's announcement Mum texted me to ask how I was and she said I sounded chirpy. Well, not meaning to be blunt about it but I am well aware how utterly shit and fucking unfair life can be. I'm not entirely sure my brother has been hit full in the face with that yet. He is 38 and has ticked all the boxes you're supposed to by that age - job, house, kids, wife, dog. I'm not saying his life is easy (his wife is a stupid manipulative bitch and he has three kids under 7 and one hell of a commute to a difficult job) and I'm not saying he hasn't working incredibly hard for it - but he's got it. Everything he wanted in life he's got so - you know - I'm probably dealing with it better?!? Except I'm not. Initially I might have been but at the moment work is, again, the only thing keeping me going. I stare at my computer screen at the end of the day and don't want to go home. At weekends I feel like I have no purpose and I just don't want to get out of bed. I'm crying a lot and I'm angry a lot. I feel acutely aware of the empty chasm in my life without children. I am lethargic with little motivation for anything, I don't want to read about my Dad's diagnosis or know anything more about it. I can feel myself slipping again, making bad food and drink choices (not exactly a good idea bearing in mind we're still, obviously, trying to conceive). I just want to sleep. I don't want to see people. So I'm back in therapy again, I've had my first appointment with my counsellor and feel so much better already. Fingers crossed that continues.


So. There we go. All the Cs - a crappy clinic, cancer and counselling.

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