“And the rain it raineth every day”.
Man. Shakespeare was right. It doesn’t stop. I’m ‘sat’ here, as my friend from Portugal, ex-Yorkshire, says, at 3.30 in the afternoon, in bed with a cup of coffee and a wheat-heat pack behind my back, a left-over comfort ritual from the broken back episode. Liam is staying the night at Nanna Kay’s, and stay there tomorrow as I have two appointments to attend.
Busy couple of weeks. Today started out CRAPPY but ended up quite lovely. I bought a beautiful pair of velvety pants from Nepal and a recycled green velvety top with some fringing and orange lace and autumn leaves, at a hippy shop (you know, where the clothes you buy smell of incense), and some nag champa because I was almost out. She let me pick out a candle for free as well. A ‘special’ one from Nimbin ha ha!
I had an appointment at Centrelink (our social security office) because someone who had previously done a job capacity assessment on me said “NO MORE MEDICAL CERTIFICATES after 4/4”. Apparently I was meant to be out looking for work. However, the woman I saw today also referred me to the woman who looks after the medical cases, and they were WONDERFUL. Said “we’ll look after you”. I have to see ANOTHER job capacity assessor next week, but they are sending me to a different one, a female one who hopefully has a better of idea that you just don’t get up from cancer treatment and say “ready for full time work now!”.
There is no possible way I can work. I can’t study–I’ve already proven that to myself. Because I’m still needing to sleep, and sleep and sleep. Because I have some serious cognitive deficits happening thanks to chemo (I can’t even READ, barely, anymore. One, it takes energy, two, I just don’t seem able to sustain the effort much.) And also because the depression and anxiety is far from resolved. I’m starting to look at the edges of something I haven’t gone too close to yet. The fact that there is a 1 in 3 chance I will be dead in 5 years. I guess that’s bought on by the looming mammogram and ultrasound I’m having next Monday. Wondering if they’ll find anything. 1 in 3. 1 in 3. Shit that sounds nasty, and heavy, and the thing is, I want RID of this mental, emotional and physical exhaustion so I can LIVE my life, whatever of it I have left.
The “Positive” book I mentioned in the last entry … the people who have truly come through this gracefully and with a sense of life intact seem to be the ones who have FULLY faced the ‘death’ thing, head on. I haven’t done that yet. I look at it, and my glance skitters away. I think it might be time to fully broach this with my therapist. Time to face the monster. This is no way to live life, exhausted, half asleep, groggy and unable to do anything much of the time. I haven’t been nurturing myself at ALL truthfully. I need to start doing that. I don’t even have energy for meditation. WTF is that? I’ve lost all of my ability for awe, wonder, whimsy, magic. I’m just a tired, middle-aged, has-been who wasn’t in the first place 🙂
Ramble ramble blah blah typing things in the ether that really nobody wants to read. Suffice for me to get it out, for posterity’s sake I suppose. Now, I’m going to lay down, watch a dvd on my laptop and probably fall asleep in the middle of it. Bugger dinner, I need sleep.
I’ve been dreaming a lot about foxes lately … another WTF???!!!
Well, we’re all going to die. The sooner we realize that, the sooner we live more deeply.
And you’re more likely to LIVE past that 5 year mark than not. Don’t forget that.
Yes, we’re all going to die. And any one of us might be hit by a bus tomorrow.
We can all say that, and know it. But until you have had to deal with a life-threatening illness, and have had your own mortality rise up front and centre slap in your face, there is no knowing how that feels. No knowing how that mortality sits on your shoulder from this day forward, and you can always feel it there. No knowing how frightening that knowledge actually is, particularly when you have a young child.
We can realise it without having had to face it through cancer, or ms, or heart attacks or whatever, and we can be aware and live our lives accordingly, but it REALLY is one of those “unless you walk in these shoes” thing … the difference.
No, I can’t realize it. And I watched the hell you’ve been through with all of this and know it’s not simple … but in a way I can’t help thinking that, once you own it, it’ll be a gift to you every day. Like Susan said, maybe you and your counselor can tackle this one together. Eventually.
The woman who inked my tattoo years ago was a good example. She was 24, and had been born with a heart murmur. She grew up with the constant knowing that she wouldn’t be expected to live past the age of 40. By 24 she’d lived in 3 different countries, followed her loves and her heart. She did everything she wanted to do without putting it off. Seems like everyone I know here is constantly putting off *everything*. Really important stuff too. The fulfilling stuff.
Maybe once you work through these feelings it’ll be a catalyst for you. To heal. To just love the moments of your life.
I can say that I have not walked in these shoes you are bring forces to walk, Julia, but it is important to remember that 2 of 3 do survive. I know you tell yourself that all the time, because of your boy.
I do think that you should broach the subject with your counselour. It is important to have that neutral ear to hear what you have to say. TO ask you the hard questions and make you answer them to yourself. Look that monster in the face.
This last month for me has been a series of loss. It has really changed the way I think about many aspects of my life.
Everything good about life is too short. All of it. Love, friendship, family… it is all too short when we are talking about losing those we love. We can say we have come to terms with “death” but until we are faced with it… we have no idea.
You can still find and release the awe, wonder, whimsey, and magic… It is still there. It just looks different to you now. Disguised. It is there, in you…
You are still you. you are still there…. You can find it…
You are in my thoughts, as always, Julia.
and just remember…. 2/3
love, S.