Dad's blog

I spent the day before Tara's operation at a meditation day at the Brighton Buddhist Centre. The idea was to try and centre myself before the ordeal ahead; to find some balance amongst the emotional turmoil I was under at the time. Due to circumstance, I'm not at the Centre much at the moment, but it really is my favourite place in Brighton because it has had the habit of being a calm oasis in my life during some of the tumultuous events of my recent past. The week before Tara was rushed to hospital in the summer of 2009, Kyra and I were on the Centre's family retreat at Rivendell.

Just four days after major brain surgery, Tara - My Hero – was discharged from hospital. Friday 13th might be unlucky for some, but for me it will always be a day of celebration. And she's doing amazingly well – almost back to her happy, healthy self. I still can't quite believe it!

I sat with Tara from about 5am after going to my room at midnight. She was half awake but comfortable - pretty similar to how she had been ever since coming out of surgery. She was running a temperature of about 38 degrees, but the ward doctor suggested that was often the case with brain surgery patients and that it was probably down to inflammation, not infection. Her surgeons must have agreed, because Tara had not been prescribed antibiotics. In fact, I cannot quite get over the fact that the only drug she is currently being regularly administered is Paracetamol.

I woke up at 3am at my goddaughter's in Wanstead, stressing about today. Luckily Kyra was next to me and my love for Tara's elder sister managed to banish my silly fears, so I soon found sleep again. Then, just as Kyra and I were about to have breakfast, I got a message telling me that Tara was going into surgery at 8.30, not 10.30! This led to a mad dash through London traffic, but unfortunately I still arrived 20 minutes late (and in a bit of a mess)....

The news that Tara's residual tumour has decided to start growing again and that she needs more surgery has shaken me. I have done a fair bit of crying, but I managed to pull myself together and the girls and I have had a lovely Christmas.

We've just had the news that Tara's rim of tumour has grown a little and that Mr Bassi is going to perform surgery on January 9th. Tara is so healthy, it came as a bit of a shock to us all; I'd convinced myself that surgery was behind us!

And now my mind's playing out all these silly scenarios where I'm mourning, deep in grief. I know it's all unhealthy self pity, but I'm frightened. I've written before on this blog about overcoming fear (http://tinyurl.com/yjugqol), but it appears to have been a pretense. Confronted with the fragility of life once again, I'm very afraid.

I've just been to see Tara's Oncologist, Dr Tammy Hedderly, at King's College Hospital. It was only a fortnight since I'd seen a Registrar on Tara's surgical team following Tara's latest MRI scan at the end of July. We had been given the great news that the small rim of matter left after surgery had shrunk from ~9mm to ~5.5mm (the reduction probably due to the healing of scar tissue) and so I was expecting nothing but positive news. And indeed, to begin with, Dr Hedderly focused on the shrinkage. 

Aside from the obvious reason of raising money for the hospital that saved my daughter's life, I had other reasons for putting my body through the grueling endeavour of cycling nearly 1000 miles in 12 days (968 to be precise) - the journey that is Lands End to John O'Groats in the UK.

The trip was about overcoming something challenging, just like Tara has done. It was about fighting for every inch, just like Tara had to fight for every second. So it was a means for me to understand, in some small way, some of what Tara has had to go through. 

The second half of day 1 we cycled along busy roads, up a couple of long hills, and further than I'd ever done before. And I set off a bit too fast, so blew up on the last ten miles. Consequently my body has ached ever since, and beginning each day with aches and pains and finding it difficult to sit down before a 100 mile cycle is tough. Shrewsbury to Preston was dour - busy roads once more, and I never want to see Warrington, Wigan or St Helens ever again. However, I would still rather live in any of those places than New Cumnock, on the way to Kilmarnock.

Dartmoor was beautiful and not as tough as my mind had decided during the night before. Likewise Shap Fell - I actually enjoyed the long slog up to the top - I think my body was getting used to cycling for mile upon mile by then. And Scotland has been beautiful pretty much all the way up, but especially from Kilmarnock (with much quieter roads toboot); the ride from Inverarry to Invergarry was stunning, as was Carbisdale Castle to Bettyhill. I will be visiting Scotland again, hopefully soon.