Welcome to the shitshow…hope you brought alcohol!
We found this sign in a funky, gift shop on a recent trip to Healesville.
We didn’t buy it, but we certainly related to it.
“The shitshow” phrase has become our ‘go-to’ expression with every piece of news received during the past 10 months.
10 months, can you believe it?
10 months since the initial diagnosis that rocked our world.
10 months since we stepped onto the cancer rollercoaster.
10 months ago, Daryl was 26kg heavier.
10 months ago, Daryl laughed a lot.
10 months ago, Daryl was a different man.
10 months ago, my future hopes faded into insignificance.
10 months ago, I found strength when I thought the well was dry.
10 months ago, the heartache was indescribable.
10 months ago, we expected the shitshow to be over soon.
Today, we are still the main characters of the show.
No intermission yet. The first scene is too long.
Cut needs to be called. The Director cannot be found.
Although, I suspect we would sack the Director if we did connect.
Like every show, there are the main cast members and plenty of spectators.
It’s been a learning curve working out who belongs in which dressing room. Who gets a speaking part and who doesn’t. Sometimes the cast members even change, finding their role too difficult so they move on to easier roles. This often leaves us perplexed, occasionally hurt, relieved at times. Surprisingly, new players appear. Thankfully the main crew have stuck with us, even when they can’t always understand us. Even when they don’t know how to help us. Even when we are at our ugliest and lowest.
How we love them in those moments.
Today we find ourselves making lists.
These lists will shape our tomorrows.
Our tomorrows are unknown to us yet; they are dependent on the outcomes of tests and procedures.
These lists are filled with tasks that make up some of life’s major decisions:
Work, semi-retire, fully retire?
How do you transition from full-throttle life mode, three jobs, plus fun on the side, to no job, illness, uncertainty?
Home?
How do you say goodbye to your family farm, one that you’ve loved and hated simultaneously, for more than 45 years?
Where will we live?
How will we live?
What about the animals?
How do you farewell the dreams you had; the projects started that will not be finished?
How do you get excited about a future you are not ready for?
Daryl recently underwent surgery, unexpected, unwanted but necessary.
Again, we wait to see what the beast brings.
We wait for more results, more treatment, more what?
We simply don’t know anymore - because the shitshow keeps going.
In ten months, we have done a lot of waiting.
In ten months, we have done a lot of hoping.
In ten months, we have shed a lot of tears.
In ten months, we have travelled a lot of kilometres.
In ten months, we have seen the inside of a lot of hotels.
In ten months, we have checked into Peter Mac too many times.
I never liked rollercoasters, even as a kid.
As an adult, I like them even less.
Daryl loves rollercoasters, even as an adult with his young sons, he was keen to jump in and fly.
But this one, this soul crushing rollercoaster, he despises.
Surely, it’s time for the shitshow to end.
Looking forward to the curtain call.
Until next time,
N
