‘To be Continued'
Waking,
Whispers of westerly wind wash across my face.
A Willy Wagtail warbles from my washing line.
Waking, wondering,
Wondering what a new day will bring.
It's winter.
Winter has played some wilful tricks on me in recent years.
Winter 2004 gave me a diagnosis of widespread metastatic bone cancer following a left breast mastectomy in summer 1997. Solution - monthly injections of Zometa®. Winter 2004 also gave me a broken leg, surprisingly unrelated to the bone cancer.
Winter 2005 added to the bodily stew with a soft tissue tumour in my left hip. Additional medication - a dose of chemo. Commenced weekly group Feldenkrais classes and, following chemo, weekly reflexology sessions.
Winter 2006. I was determined I was not going to spend this soccer season waning beside the side line as I watched my son participate. It was such an enjoyable season. Not only for the soccer, I felt well, I looked well, friends kept telling me I looked well, my medical team kept telling me I looked well. I was tenaciously, and in hindsight blinkeredly, enjoying reclaiming my life. I attended a couple of professional conferences, bush walked extensively in Carnarvon Gorge National Park and climbed Mt. Warning.
Summer 2006. Aye, there's the rub. A routine check up with my eye specialist uncovered five brain tumours lurking in my skull. An immediate introduction to radiation was prescribed. Lots more information to read, absorb, digest, adopt or reject as I learnt all I could about this latest twist in my health situation. Not to be outdone the bone cancer also flared up again and yet more radiation was prescribed, this time on my left femur. Daily diet could no longer really be described as ‘eating' and ‘exercise' happened as I hobbled gingerly around the house. My figure returned to the proportions of my wedding day but what a way to achieve this. And to follow this radiation - chemo dose three.
Winter 2007. Whispers of westerly wind continue to wash softly across my face as I wake, wondering still what each new day will bring, wondering about the ultimate results of this latest assault on my body and mind from this malady called cancer. ‘Assault', there it is again, the use of military symbolism seems to be unavoidable when most aspects of cancer are discussed. I hate it. It seems an inappropriate description to me, de-humanising of an experience that frequently, and in my experience definitely, has brought so much love and compassion from family and friends as I continue to walk along the way of survival with them.
I walk along this way quietly, excited as I witness the dawn of every new day, enthusiastic about the plans I and my family and friends are making for the coming weeks, exuberant about my continued ability to energetically participate in life on this world. There is so much more about the richness of life experiences I have yet to share and enjoy.
Last updated August 2007
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