After a very positive and memorable childhood, my parents had a tragic breakup. After my dad moved out, I lived with my older brother, and my mum. My mum was always ill as she had a condition called MS, and when I was fairly young I didn't understand the condition very well and I didn't notice her symptoms in action. The symptoms weren't consistent and only took action from time to time. Her legs were mainly affected by MS. And so sometimes she'd struggle to walk, get dressed, and drive, and much more.
As I aged I began to understand her condition and I was aware of what it did to her. When I reached the age of around 11-12, her condition became more affective and more consistent and it affected her every day. I had a very stressful time every day because I had to help her walk around the house and help her get up the stairs, which would take about 15 minutes.
It was recognised that she clearly wasn't fit to look after me, and so I eventually moved in with my Dad at his new home, where I still live now. He had met someone who I also live with who I consider as my Step-Mum. I also live with two Step-Brothers.
My mum eventually was taken to a hospice, where they deal with people that suffer like my mum. It was quite hard for me to live at this point because I had to adapt to my new surroundings, and I only saw my mum maybe once every few months, not as often as I would've liked. I adapted well and my life starting to turn in the right direction, as I liked my new home and my mum was recovering well.
Eventually, in my early 14's, my mum was released from the hospice and moved into her own small house in my home town. I was extremely happy that she was recovering and that she had some freedom. We saw each other weekly at her home and we had a laugh and some good times. My life was awesome at this point. One day I messaged her asking if I could go and see her again, but she told me that she wasn't feeling well, and that she would message me when she felt she was ok for me to see her. I understood what she was trying to say and left it for a few days. She still hadn't messaged me at all, so I asked her again, she said the same thing again, and again, and again. I started to get confused. I wondered to myself why she was so ill again. I began to get angry and we had an argument on text, she said she couldn't get out of bed and she kept being sick. I was so upset because she was getting on so well until she became poorly again. She told me she was even too ill to go to the doctors. I left it for a few days because my dad wanted me to.
After those few days, I got home from school one day and he looked very upset but was acting very happily around me. Whenever I left the room I could hear him whispering to my Step-Mum, but I couldn't identify exactly what they were saying. I started to get very worried and concerned. It was fairly obvious that my dad had some bad news to tell me. But I knew that he wasn't ready to tell me, and because I knew that he wanted to tell me the news when he was ready, I pretended to be perfectly fine around him.
One night I was called downstairs, and my Dad told me that my mum had been diagnosed with lung, liver, and bone cancer. I broke down into tears instantly because i felt so bad for her because she'd only just been getting herself back together and settling into her new home. I went to see her in hospital and it was very emotional but i managed to hold my tears back because i knew that she wanted me to stay positive. She spent a few weeks at a general hospital, but then was eventually moved to a special cancer hospital, where they deal only with cancer patients. She is there until this day but she has got so bad now. She can't move much at all. She can't hold much things because she's too weak. She cant talk clearly either because she's on so many drugs to reduce her pain. I've been told that she only has a few days left but i am keeping hope but at the same time, preparing myself for the worst.
Page updated 25 March 2017