How I coped with a family member having an incurable illness

Over the past decade, I have had to learn to cope with the fact my mother has an incurable illness that will one day take her from me and my family and this journey has not been an easy one and it has been a solitary one. Only recently have I decided to talk about it since I am aware that hundreds well thousands of people are faced with is daily, and I hope this blog serves to help them in some way.

It all started back when I was 10 and I came home to my mother at the dining table trying to hide the tears having taking medical retirement, and obviously I was too young to understand what was going on and for a long time I was completely oblivious I treated my mother like nothing was wrong.

Until I was in my biology class in year 9 and doing piece on the pulmonary system and illness that often occurred and there at the top of the page was the acronym COPD, Chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, an illness that is incurable and will one day involve my mother being chained to an oxygen bottle struggling to breathe.

Me only then realising that my mother was not the same and for all intense and purpose was running out of time, a wave of dread and indescribable guilt rushed over my body, as I regretted every time I asked her to get me something or asking for a drink. I suddenly felt as though I have been taking her for granted.

Very quickly I learnt there was nothing I could do to help her condition that over the course of years I would watch her from going from a fit and healthy mother a woman who used to be able to run the 100 meters in under 14 seconds to a woman who would one day need an oxygen tank to walk 10 meters.

After this realisation, everything changed I found myself  noticing every cough,every tear, every wheeze of her lungs I found myself deliberately staying up to make sure she was breathing in her sleep and I found myself carrying my phone on me just in case.

At times I wanted to just hug her or cry, but I didn't I just carried on like normal just doing more around the house, hiding my helping out as me growing up just being vigilant at a distance but always in reach.

I wanted to help her to do things for her but no matter how much I did it was never enough and I couldn't understand how she was keeping it together, and one day after walking in on her wiping away tears and she told me "thank you". My reply was simply for what? and in a soft voice, she said "being you".

For a long time, I was baffled by this since all I remember doing is taking her for granted and making her condition worse. it wasn't until the summer holiday of year 10 when I was diagnosed with epilepsy and suddenly everyone started treating me like was made of glass, with the exception of my closest friends who acted like the same bunch of loveable idiots they always were and one random lunch break ,after my friend Sam made joke, I understood by acting like nothing was wrong they made me feel like nothing had changed.

This made me feel as though I could help her not physically but mentally, making her happy was the way to help her.  However, this changed once I went to university I was suddenly no longer in reach at best I was 14 hours away, I could not check her breathing or hand her tissues when she coughed. So I again had to adjust to my mother being ill but this time a long distance away,

I learnt that the best thing I could do was stay in regular contact and make her proud.The reason for this was that what helped my mother was me being me and what helped her helped me. I have never come to accept that my mother is forever ill, and I have never understood why her. but I have learnt to live with it but more importantly helped my mothers as well, partly by treating her like normal making her laugh and feel useful and partly by giving her goals, first the 2012 Olympics then me leaving A Level, then the Sochi winter Olympics then the Rio Olympics next is the 2018 winter Olympics.

I have written this blog in the hopes to let others know that even though the pain and anger and helplessness never realy goes, you can still live your life and improve their life as well, I understand my experience will probably not translate with anyone else's, andIi know there are considerably worse illnesses than COPD, one of my oldest friend's mother has contracted stage 4 cancer so me and my mother are relatively lucky in comparison.

That is the point I'm trying to make is that focusing on the positives makes things easier, my family has always taught me there is no point in complaining about your issues since when you go around the next corner there is always someone 10 times worse off so stay focused on the bright parts and suddenly life seems a lot less dark.

I hope this has helped, please comment and share.