The long and winding road

Fighting cancer is, I guess, rarely a straightforward road. Charlotte's journey has been more easily navigable than many, but there have been twists and turns aplenty. Having had life changing and (God-willing) life preserving surgery 3 weeks ago, she is now free of the drains that resembled tendrils and life can begin to return normality - whatever 'normal' is when you're living with cancer. The new school year is due to start in a week's time, and whilst this hasn't been the summer she might have envisaged, it has been summer nonetheless. The inferno like heat in recent days has been both a blessing, as a natural mood enhancer and spirit lifter, but has made for uncomfortably sticky weather for post op healing.

Charlotte's hair, when not concealed under hats and headscarves, is benefiting from the turbo charged boost of Vitamin D, and is a wonderful sign of her body's inner strength and wisdom. Whilst energy levels have been zapped, and she continues on a nauseating concoction of antibiotics, things are progressing and her recovery from surgery has been swift, whilst not without a few hiccups, now thankfully behind her.

Life really is to be taken a day at a time. The oncology results weren't exactly what we might have hoped for. They revealed a less than perfect outcome - chemo is good, but there can never be any guarantees. The alien has been evicted from her breast tissue, but the weaponry will need to be enhanced to blast this devious enemy who has made her mark on Charlotte's lymph system and has not yet disappeared for dust. And so the journey continues.

Whilst not easy news to take in and fully absorb, things could be an awful lot worse. This changes everything and this changes nothing. The original plan remains intact. Radiotherapy awaits. As do a new timetable and new students. Much remains unknown. No one could have foreseen the discovery of the hostile invader, and no one can predict its departure date. Cancer must be faced head on, and fought on its own terms. Charlotte is an admirable opponent, who is bravely keeping her eyes open and her spirits up. I live with a daily reminder that life is short. Life is precious. Life is unpredictable. Life defies plans. Life is for living. Cancer doesn't change any of that.

Comments

Table. Apple. Penny.

Whilst there were several places I might have been that morning, I wouldn't have been anywhere else. The practitioner from the Memory Service arrived promptly. I liked her instantly. Mum was nervous. I think I was a little, too. It's been a difficult year. "It's Friday, it's the fourteenth of December and I'm at home..." No problems there. CAMCOG, or the Cambridge Cognitive Examination is a thorough assessment tool used to assess the extent of extent of dementia, and to assess the level of cognitive impairment. The standardised measure assesses orientation, language, memory, praxis, attention, abstract thinking, perception and calculation. "Table. Apple. Penny." Three everyday items that were introduced at one point, and then referred to again later on. Again, Mum was able to recall each. I am reminded that the...

Glass half full? Glass half empty? Or perhaps the glass is broken

I am, constitutionally, a glass half empty gal. I will always first acknowledge what I don't have, what I have lost, and what it is that I am seeking. I tend to overlook my strengths, concentrating only on those bits of me that are underdeveloped or weak. I refer to myself as a realist, but in doing so compliment myself and insult those who genuinely are simply realistic. My modus operandi is to identify what's not working and acknowledge this before seeing more clearly what functions perfectly well. This has its place: I edit others' written work pretty well. My fastidious attention to detail serves me, and the author. Accuracy counts, for me and I have an excellent memory. I can remember a great many of my sessions with clients verbatim. Even this asset is something I can, and do, diminish the true value of, by concentrating on 'I should have said...' or 'why didn't.... occur to me during the session?' Earlier this we...

Pausing in the sunshine

And so, chemo is over. My best friend's diary has been chocker... Line cleans, blood tests, scans and 18 weekly doses of the gruelling treatment itself. Summer seems at last to have arrived and with it, we hope, some time, peace and space. She is, we acknowledged over a rather yummy luncheon served to us beneath the beautiful canopy of creepers and climbers at Petersham Nurseries, an inspiration. A small group of us gathered to celebrate her forthcoming marriage. The sun's rays joined the warmth we all have for this very special woman. Warmth and, in my case at least, pride. It is the greatest privilege to call this woman my best friend. She continues to epitomise my understanding of grace. Our bodies are fragile things. Our minds are frailer still. In her composure and wisdom, she possesses an outlook I can only aspire to adopt. From you, dear Charlotte, I learn and I learn and I learn. The ...

The Reward is the Journey

Search This Blog