Well it seems like I’m not the only one who haunts op shops and sales and gazes into shop windows as I pass .Checking my image as well as mentally redressing myself in different garments:
HOW do I look ?
How do I want to look though? And WHY do I want to look like whAtever or whoever ?
Well it’s never a fixed idea or want. I actually am ok with how I look,most of the time.Just as quite ok with where I am
But………lately I have been looking and acquiring clothes a lot. Constantly 💀.Chucking out and acquiring more clothes Often not wearing the garb ever again .
Back into my normal jeans, shirt scarf and earrings. LAtely the op shopping and stockpiling is connected with a shifting identity
With a Cáncer diagnosis there is a strong desire to cling onto the known ,to hold onto what can be held. But the known ,older self is shifting, dissapearing, parts are fading.So the putting on of new garments is more than the dress ups of old.Its both a checking and a searching .I feel different ,look different ? What can I add to how I look, with what do I replace what is perhaps lost forever?
So two selfies taken with the chemo bottle on , trying on a dress( which I’m proud I resisted buying )
The photo pure fun , squeezed into my grand daughters ballet dress
Others , my lovely daughter many years ago a dress I brought back from UK,she’s delighted and I felt guilty having left her to go off on N adventure.
And my equally lovely grandchildren. Full of life and fun and playing with colour and style and identity.
PS 3/3/20 Been given all clear . But will still dress up , for fun and joy
An old one -draft written last year as I prepared to tackle a new camino,the de La Lana(Wool route )from Alicante on southern coast of Spain to Burgos inland.All unknowing of the surprise sitting on my kitchen table on return -results of the poo test.I have now planned to return to Spain.I’m not planning to walk a lot but would like to spend time in a little village near Granada ,in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada.I hope to improve my Spanish and contemplate life
More of that later.This blogg is about the preparations and feelings around leaving for a new place.It is interesting today to re examine those feelings in the light of what is happening now, where the situation is different (Feb 2020).But also to realise as I read that the strong feelings of a year ago have diminished.Is it just time ,or different context,or am I now wanting to cull rather than gather?Will those feelings and deep concerns I now hold close loosen their grip as time goes by?Or rather will I loosen my hold on them, let them go and enjoy what I have,not mourn what might be lost, or worry about a future. Sounds like the song -time goes by.
The following paragraph is from a year ago,and written at the beginning of our Perth spring.But the sentiments still apply -the reluctance to leave the known, to opt out of routines and the security of home .
“But what of the blooming iris I’m leaving behind ?What of the suddenly magic weather -the crisp clean mornings followed by warm days .What of the garden I have been planting the last few days ?And the apartment next door that is being leased ,and have had to acquiesce in repainting -and colour changes .That has been the hardest -to go back into a space that was once ones own ,where so much energy has been given to creating a beautiful and special surrounding -the colours reflecting a personal search for happiness and serenity .Each corner means something ,or did to me :the purple door with MF,(Motherfunk) etched into it ,the first sound room for a recording of son so many years ago now ,the ochre walls reflecting colours seen in Spain /Morocco -orange is a happy assertive colour -the silver internal wall highlighting the coloured glass internal windows.Looking back from the pond outside there is a sense of reaching back into a timeless and ornate universe with starry surrounds.Goodbye ,let go “
These are the things I was packing into my backpack, and I will go through the same agonising about what to keep and what to discard each time I travel :
My shorts ,rarely worn on previous walks as either too cold ,or legs get scratched or sunburnt
assorted scarfs
earrings
assorted moisturisers
a spare pair of pants
an extra ,favourite coloured top
Other tops I like , so light they take no space ‘
assorted vitamins and pills
thermal pants
Merino gloves and beanie
Sun hat
extra hoodie
Rain jacket ( light ,and expensive ) and pants
Spare socks and liners
Change of underwear
Long merino wool dress ( why ?)
Phone charger and phone
Docs : guide to walk, just relevant pages , and Hostal info
Book to read / books ?
Walking poles
Etc etc etc
I need to have not more than 7 kg
Does anyone else have so much trouble ,and this after 6 caminos .Or is it part of the detachment and getting away ? I tell myself this as i get more and more stressed and pack and repack
Does my present life resemble this room ? Where there is a lot of stuff waiting to be sorted ,not used daily ,and needs to be got rid of but kept just in case ?
Or energies , talents and qualities lying dormant ,faltering and wilting in a muddled space?Closed door and windows so eventually there is only stale air and forgotten belongings
Have one more chemo to go ,and then the scan and blood test ,and the oncologist ,then the colon surgeon for check.It seems like an endless succession of appointments and anxieties .Checks and balances .
I thought that the last few chemos would be a slow and calm slide into the end result,be it good or bad .Of course the oncologist thinks it will be good ,and I half believe him ,and am planning for after.But there is a small part of me which whispers “but what if “.and an alternative plan forming in my head.
Also as one of the readers of last blogg point out -one is never again free of the thought of death .I guess none of us are .But this is a thought that is reinforced ,as the line between being on this earth for a while longer and being a metaphorical part of the wider universe is within my body, with me each day .
The ” I believe ….in the resurrection of the body and life everlasting “is a companion .As is the peering into eyes a fairly consistent action . If eyes are the mirrors of the soul ,so too do they contain the sparkle of life ,or the dullness,or the anxiety and struggle of those who have had or are going through the attempt to be part of living .I look into the eyes of some of the people who are sitting at oncology waiting for appointments ,into the eyes of neighbours and strangers and friends who pass by, or whom I meet for coffee or email.Frequently their eyes are turned inwards:glazed ,sometimes tired or dulled .But talk to them or get to them on messanger ,and a light flickers .Making an effort ,or engaging ,lighting up .This world is a wonderful place and they are brought back into it through connecting with kindness or love or just a joke
Nevertheless -the Eyes have it :all the worry and pain ,all the regrets and wishes ,all the past and hoped for future, the pleading .As well as the joyfulness,gratifude and belief in life /joy /eternity /God -“whatever “as my kids used to say .We all need a whatever and love
Well I have been procrastinating.Successfully avoiding publicly blogging about my Cancer journey.For nearly 5 months.
Even a title is problematic.There are so many Blogs by “cancer survivors”,and the implied context usually about a battle between chemo and wellness.I read many of them ,and thanks heaps those people who are braver than me-I have found a lot of information ,and some fun ,positivity and inspiration from you.In my usual fashion I have also constructed reservations and questions :
Questions,reservations and explanations
Successive entries describe chemotherapy as a poison entering the body.Most people who have spoken to me about chemo have commented on this poison aspect -that the chemical given is making its destructive way through my body, killing off the” good “as well as the “bad”(deceased) cells .(In my case fluorocracil is the major component of the modified bowel cancer adjuvant,Folfox 6 .Modified to contain leucovorin and oxaliplatin )
Although this is correct, the chemo weakens the body,interfering with good as well as bad cells in its task to eliminate any cancer particles,I don’t find the image very helpful.I need to see that drug as more than an enemy -as the liquid drips down through the tube attached to my shoulder port and then disperses itself throughout my body I need to visualise some brightness Perhaps a light of sorts that is moving through blood and bone to restore and heal .
Then there is a reluctance to describe oneself in any terms denoting illness/possible death /unsightliness /disabilty.The”cancer surviver”term avoids the victim nomenclature ,but also creates an unmitigated image of battle and heroism.as if individual strength and cleverness can outwit this monster.As if we are in charge of our own destinies ,sometimes there is the implication that we have brought the illness on ourselves,if capable of ridding ourselves of the disease then surely we are capable of attracting it ? .There is the Fate one too .God or Fate or an agency that exists outside ourselves has willed our path through life. Equally i don’t like the”touched by …” Would prefer being touched by an Angel or magic.Am very curmudgeonly really .
If I am being truthful, this chemo has also knocked my head around, so that the words are harder to find and my ability to focus for longer periods has diminished.As the chemo has progressed ,nearly 5 months now,I have become tireder physically and mentally. I also ramble more ,talk more ,and presumably write less clearly.More of this later in another blog.
In addition, the constant interruptions with appointments ,exercise classes ,and emergent obsessions take away from writing time.Self belief,meaning, identity have shifted as physical and mental being fluctuates .My focus is on being alive ,staying alive ,getting through each day.
Obsessions ?I think some are related to staying alive and hoping Like gardening (who would have thought -me and gardening? ) At least 3 hours a day planting ,watering,Creating little offerings: words ,flowers and plants in house ,cuttings growing, building small piles of shells and stones,exporing. I am grounding myself in this earth ,this life. I am searching harder than ever for life’s essence,spending time on soul
In addition who will read this ? Who do I write for ,and why ? So many questions ,as there are throughout life.
No -Just starting midway
So now after this long preamble I am starting not at the beginning nor near the end nor really in the middle.Just starting somewhere where I happened to do some jotting down while on one of my chemo visits .
“Today a lot more people.All the seats in reception filled.And all the seats in the consultants waiting room.Are we all waiting for chemo?
My spirits sink on entering the corridor labelled “Cancer Centre”,and halt as a person on the trolley, trolley,oxygen mask strapped to face ,numerous wires strapped to body, nurses running alongside holding various tubes and breathing apparatus ,relative or friend loping alongside, whizzes past .Off to theatre. Spirits plummet.
Into the Cancer Centre waiting room .My chemotherapy appointment is for 9 am.I wait,and for once have to wait for a longish time as the room is full ,every seat occupied .All ages ,young to older like me ,some with frames and hobbling and helped along to the chemo space ahead, some red ,burnt faces or patchy skin, some overweight ,others fit looking with no apparent mark of the cancer .
I can’t help but start to look and label, and think about where I fit and what my own outcome might be longterm.Ironically the old labels are applied -“pretty ‘”young/old”overweight/fit /unfit”,”a pain/boring/interesting”Yet these are people some of whom are like me wondering,hoping,praying,struggling to contend with pretty awful stuff. Skin lesions,nausea,weight gain or loss,no tastebuds -more of that later.The point is that even in this situation I revert to making ordinary, mostly unkind judgements.Perhaps its a way of retaining normality ,and therefore wellness.
Much worse is labelling in terms of the imagined severity of the illness :
This woman has lost her hair-that one too.How does she look ? I find my mind moving to “if /when it happens to me-that is how I want to look’?I focus on a youngish woman with a bright scarf around her head, hooped earrings ,slim build and smiling.We smile at each other and I want to tell her how bright and lovely she looks,.Then realise how far I’m sinking into the cancer,sifting through the appearances attached to an illness ,or at least a health aberration .
Alive and Smiling
Stop! Stop!Take 5 breaths in .Hold,Breathe out.Imagine the golden light enveloping me from top to toe. I turn my head away from the chemo waiting group ,look sharp left and watch the sliding door . I have now been sitting here for nearly an hour.I catch myself inventing a story around each person as they leave consultants office and slide open the glass doors.Wonder what particular cancer each person has ,or what news has been received .Some people emerging from the consulting rooms and walking through the sliding doors into the main reception area look as they did before,just ordinarily OK .Others look in pain ,or miserable.I wonder if their normal state of being is misery or grumpiness?
Then,brightness ,a joyful man, comes through the sliding door into the main reception area.Beaming smile. He shares his good news with all of us:
“Hey I’m going to be alive this time next year”
We all smile .
Offerings ? Its a beautiful world
Living the life on rottnest
knotted and marked hand !
Cheerful ,walking along river path
Glamour before !
chemoing on with portal safely on shoulder
before, during and after chemo for the last 5 months .last one with the portal on shoulder is Chemo no 9 ,and have 3 to go (end of jan 2020)
Sambasue21 