By November I was officially back at work on a phased return and I was only working 3 days a week, unofficially I was working as hard as I ever had. I was officially still an area sales manager, unofficially I was now the national specification manager and had started to have european travel as a standard part of my job. The job titles are meaningless really but it's realy just to highlight that I was back at it and my work face was firmly in place. I was using being busy as another coping strategy, but I was using it wrong. I was staying busy to hide from my thoughts, to hide from myself, to hide from my future well the future I thought I had anyway. I had now completely convinced myself that I had no future, I would not make any plans more than 3 months in advance because I thought that at my next 3 month check I would be told it was back and it was terminal. I was living day to day, week to week and at most month to month. Now you might say that most people do, but do most people refuse to book a holiday because they won't be alive to see it? Do most people look at their kids and say that they won't be there to take them to school when they start? Do most people think that they HAVE to make this Christmas a good one because it will be their last one? That was the place I was in inside my head. Outside of my head I thought I was behaving normal but I wasn't, I was starting to show the signs of cracking and a couple of people could see it. They asked if I was OK? Did I want to talk? No I didn't I was fine. Everyone else though couldn't see it, I had been back a while, the cancer was gone, my work face was up so they didn't need to ask anymore how I was getting on. They didn't need to ask if I was coping or if I was worried about anything. I don't blame them for it, like I've said before we all have busy lives and our own problems and needs always take priority, they have to, they're our problems. I came across the picture below today and for me it sums up that very point. The words are important too, words are to me as you can probably guess, and as a cancer survivor we are told we are strong, we are told we are brave, does that mean we always have to be or does that make it easier to not have to ask us if we are scared? Anyway back to the story before I digress to far, if I'm honest as I write this I'm looking for an excuse to digress because this was my lowest point, this was when I realised I had to get help before I could go on. I should probably say that I had also been to the doctors twice before this point with what I thought were lumps in my leg. Both times i had been convinced and both times the doctors told me to stop worrying it wasn't. They placated me and said they understood why I was worrying but there was nothing there to worry about and if there was they would tell me and we would get the ball rolling again. It was then that I couldn't tell them that I didn't think I had the fight in me to go again, there was no fight because I knew when it came back it would be over for me. This again I think is not uncommon, I think we look for lumps that aren't there, we assume everything is cancer. My self checking was also completely out of control at this time as well, I was checking myself at least 10 times an hour, seriously at least 10 times an hour, it was almost a constant check. I'm not sure how a tumour could grow in 5 minutes between checks but I checked anyway, God I couldn't help but check, it was becoming ridiculous because i didn't care where I was or who was there. Always the same method as I described before, over and over again. So how did it happen, how did I finally break? Here we go.... I was a soldier for just under 10 years, in that time I lost people I knew and since I had left more friends had died. They had been weighing on my mind a lot, I thought about them, the ones who had already died and wondered if they knew where they were now, how were their families coping. I thought of Mac who had never met his child, at least my kids had known me, well definitely the older two and at least I had held my youngest, he had been there through the long nights at the start of my journey and being off work for 6 months had been a blessing I hadn't had with the eldest two and I really did wish I had after experiencing it with him. Anyway as that was such a huge part of my life as you can imagine my Facebook friends list is full of friends from my army life and around November as you can imagine our thoughts always turn to those who weren't as lucky as us so it's a fairly emotional time anyway. I also volunteer as a collector for the poppy appeal in the run up to armistice day and as such when I saw a link on my timeline about a Poppy appeal flash mob I was always going to watch it. I was in the house alone and working with my laptop connected to the TV so I clicked and watched the following video. I don't know how it happened, I just sat there watching. It's not a very emotional video, it's not upsetting and I've always liked the song but sitting there watching it my head and my thoughts began to wander. I thought back to my army days, my memories of it both good and bad, then I started to think of all of those who never made it back, those I didn't know and those I did. I started to go to the dark places in my mind, my future or lack of one to be more precise. I thought of Mac never meeting his child and then my children losing me, of how could I comfort them if I wasn't there, how I couldn't control if the cancer would come back, no matter what I did I was back into the game of luck, would I be lucky or not. I thought of my battles so far, the possible battles to come, did I have any fight left, I'm sure I did have some but how much, could I cope with another diagnosis? On and on my mind went, deeper and deeper and as it did I felt tears in my eyes and sobs forming in my throat. I had been holding them in for months, I had been keeping the tears with the panic, the sobs with my fears of the future but now I couldn't keep them down, they were rising and I couldn't stop them, I was losing it, higher came the feelings, I was definitely losing it, then they broke, the tears fell and the sobs started, I had lost it, I couldn't stop, I just couldn't stop I had completely lost it.
I was aware of the video stopping, I think I can sort of remember the next one coming on but nothing after that. The next thing I remember is it was half an hour later and everyone was getting home, I had been crying for half an hour, I heard the door go and knew I had to move, I was still crying and the kids were coming in, they couldn't see me like this, they couldn't know something was wrong. I had made sure they had not known I was ill, I would not get through the fight and then they find out now. I moved to the bathroom quickly, tears still streaming and sat on the edge of the bath trying to pull myself together. I looked at myself in the mirror, I had been here before, exactly here, 9 months before and I had looked at myself and vowed to beat sarcoma. I had promised myself I would beat it and now I looked at myself again. I would not be beaten, not now, I knew there and then that I had to get help, I knew I couldn't keep going the way I was going. If I did then no matter how long I had left would be miserable, it wouldn't be a life. I would not beat cancer and then live a life that wasn't happy. I could not keep wishing the next 10 years away, I had to find a way to live again, to beat the fear, I could not go on like this. I washed my face, i scrubbed away the tears, straightened myself out and left the bathroom. I went to the phone and made an appointment with my GP, I needed to talk to her.
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Darren EvansOn Feb 11th 2013 my life changed forever when I was diagnosed with a myxoid liposarcoma of the right thigh. This is my version of my life since then. Archives
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