What the Sisters Did. Part One

Ummmm, hi .. it's me again. (waves). I'm having an intense time lately. I started writing something else, but the story of my sisters came out instead. I also possibly need to get some things off my chest, before Mr TC gets his scan. Just so I can process shit. Because I can't afford the money or the time to do therapy. I hope that's ok.

When I was young, I had such a raging, burning hatred for my sisters. It was terrible - we were all terrible. We were all taught to hate each other. Not in your usual "sibling rivalry way". It was psychological, systematic, and cruel. They have both been dealing with a lot of our childhood crap for the past few years. They wanted to stop the cycle of abuse, instead of passing it on to their children. It's hard, getting real. But they have done it! And I am so, so proud and amazed and happy for them. I cannot believe how close we three are. I never would have thought this could happen .. not in a million years. They are my mainest peeps. My blood ... the Source of Much Sass.

They got me through chemo ..... and it wasn't even my fucking chemo. Actually, to backtrack ..... they helped me get through my pregnancy. I keep forgetting I was pregnant ... seems like a world away now. Halfway through my IVF, I told them I had a blog. So they started reading it. And we seem to have gotten even closer since then.

Their hearts were broken, back in May, too. They stopped their whole lives, just for me and my family. If I didn't have them I would have run screaming off a cliff. They have talked me off the cliff many times.

My mother was the first person I called, to tell the news of Mr TCs diagnosis. Mr TC and I were two stunned mullets, driving back from the cancr clinic with the free sympathy parking. You know what he was babbling? How he had lived a great life, these past nine years. That was our mentality .... that he was going to die. I phoned my mum, so she would hear it from me. I lost it halfway through, oh how hard it was to say the word lymphoma to her. It took three tries. She was calm, asked did I want to call her back, as I was so upset. I said no. I hung up, and noticed a white van behind us, in the busy traffic. It was John, one of Mr TCs drumming buddies, waving gaily at us. We waved back ... how strange it was, that he had no idea what we had just been told. By the time we got home, we had a whisper of a grip, but not much. I picked Tiger up from a friends house, took him home and got him ready for bed. Me and Tiger stood next to each other in the bathroom, brushing our teeth together. I looked at myself in the mirror, thinking, wow .... I look exactly the same, but my whole heart has been ripped out and smashed. Tiger had no idea. I had to protect him. My sister text me ... any news yet? Shit, I hadn't told them yet. I rang Tee, she answered. I simply said "Bad. It's just really bad." And told her all we knew. I asked her if she could ring and tell Rex, as I had to put Tiger to bed. Rex sent me the most soulful, heartfelt text, telling me she loved me, over and over again.

And then one of the worst nights of my life happened. And then Thursday was here, and I had to have a baby on the Monday, and I ummmm, neeed help. (Thank God, THANK GOD I had a c-section. Mr TC couldn't have handled a full-on labour and natural birth.)

My sisters wanted to come up straight away, but I put them off. Because I thought it would be the last time I would have my husband and Tiger together, in the same house. Ever. So they were to come on Sunday.

The next few days, were just heavy. Like, we needed to be pushed around. Mr TC was in agony, the tumours so aggressive they seemed to be growing daily, pressing on all of his internal organs. How frightening, to have something growing in there and not know! And cancer is so common ... it's only a matter of time before somebody else we know gets it. Insidious.

My sisters rang and text me, those few days. Constantly. More people started to find out. I kept thinking I was ok .... then I so, so wasn't ok. SO NOT OK. There was just no thinking my way out of this one. I kept doing half prayers .... "Dear God, Please protect my ....... OH THAT'S RIGHT! YOUR'E AN ARSEHOLE! FUCK YOU, C*NT!!"

And I sulked to God, and refused to pray. For a while. We are back on speaking terms now, but my Faith has taken a battering.

Mr TC and I were in K-Mart on the Sunday, buying a car seat for the baby who was coming the next day. Because organised. My phone rang. It was my sister Tee .... she had arrived at our house, and wanted to know what she could do. She sounded really fucked up and didn't know what to do. I said .. "Ok, mate. Can you get the vacuum out ..." I heard her say "Yep. Sure."
I continued ... ".... and just start vacuuming, and vacuuming, and just vacuum the fuck out of the floor, for like, all day!!"

Cue maniacal, crazy, LOUD laughter. Me, nine months pregnant, in the middle of K-Mart, and her, standing in my house, at a loss, not knowing what to do to help. The first of the Thousand Laughs That Got Us Through.

Then Mr TCs phone rang .... it was his big official hospital, he had to go there immediately, to claim his bed. We rushed and rushed, not knowing if he would make it back out for the birth. We drove down together, all the nurses were waiting for us, knew who we were. Like celebrities, for a really bad reason. I imagined them, going home to their families that night, sharing stories over dinner about the poor couple who came in heavily pregnant, and the dad has cancer. Tsk tsk. What a story.

It IS a big story, isn't it? If I were reading it in a book, I would scoff, and think, well that's just STUPID. That wouldn't happen! Ha. What a way to find out how random the Universe can truly be. My mantra at the time was ..."It's not good, or bad. It just is."

It took four hours for him to get admitted. I curled up with him on his bed, and we both had a sleep. I broke the news to him that he was on a cancer ward. "What! What the fuck ... no I'm not, hon."

He was. Bald heads, vomiting, and skinny pale faces everywhere. He did NOT BELONG THERE. Then .. Mr TC was allowed one more night at home! Hurrah! I was so fucking grateful he could come to the birth. We drove home, to Tee and Rex, and tried to be normal. Rex brought Angel cards, and matching bracelets, and a heart full of love. I played card games with my Tiger, poor sweet guy. He has had his whole life turned around this year ... gone from being the only child to the middle child. The next morning, the sound of my two sisters laughing together upstairs, warmed me. They were SHRIEKING with laughter, at a comment that Stacie had left on my last post. They brought the computer down, to show me all the love and support you all here in blogland gave me .... I was, and still remain, blown away. By how much it helps ... to know somebody, out there, gives a shit.

Then I left home, and had a baby. And my sisters were Shining Beacons of Love and Strength, who laughed inappropriately and insanely with me, during the awful times. But I will have to write that next post, because this is way too long already. And if I don't shut my computer off right now, Mr TC will roll over and wake up and say "Fucks sake, hon. You STILL on that thing." And we're getting on so well lately I don't want to have a pseudo fight at midnight over my furtive blogging. XOXO

....... to be continued ...........