My journey beyond the cancer seas
Have you noticed how squirrels seems to fly across the tips of the grass as they run? I watched one in the dewy autumn morning, as I stood indignant in my champagne pink dressing gown. Its a pretty cosmic thing to witness. They are little shits. But I take joy in seeing them escape my annoyed shout and hand clap after finding them digging in my pots again. I’m growing Brussel sprouts and beetroots, well I’m experimenting upon the premise that theses plants like the wintering cold to grow. Ok, let us see if that is true.
I enjoy checking out the theories and so called certainties of our world. In small ways it keeps my brain oiled to the greater issues. Proving or disproving a set theory within the context of something controllable and everyday, such as my beets and brussels, gives me a continued understanding that I am in a world laced with many versions of reality.
And it keeps me grounded.
Last night I read a blog that I could have written. In fact I have been ruminating upon that very topic this past week. The topic of post cancer and the challenge of recovery. Excuse me for swearing, but fucking hell its been tough this past year. And in this instance after reading that blog, it would seem that this reality is a shared one with us who are the great survivors.
I was getting fed up of my blogs, and was trying so hard to remain on the upbeat end of it all in recent months. For you as much as me. There was truth in what I wrote, I am forging ahead with my website and securing rooms to practice shiatsu. Working on a calendar of my art and getting my manuscript out to publishers. As well as coming out to see you all at various points, but, and, the underbelly was always going to push through to have its say.
I am glad to be alive. Only I am still not sure who the hell is alive. So much has changed, in the world at large and in me. The deeply grooved responses that I have considered to be my baseline sound hollow in my ears, like I am listening from a great distance. And my body is not playing ball. I am having to learn my changes and nothing can be taken for granted any more. I feel very behind, though I do question who I feel like I am behind. Probably the old version of myself in which case it seems I have turned my perception backwards! This version of myself, right here is not behind at all, in fact it is the present reality.
I have been praying at night when I wake with anxiety or pain. It helps, and in some unfathomable way I feel connected to source in those twilight hours. In fact I spend a lot of time in conversation with the divine, often in arguments, many times in gratitude. I am grateful that it is only anxiety these days and not the all consuming panic attacks of this past year that came as a consequence of the Tamoxifen I was on. I had to make a choice to stop that in order to find some peace. Daily panic attacks linked to the post cancer drug is not a life I want to live.
Do I feel afraid to have stopped the allopathic medicine? Of course. I have my work cut out for me in finding a natural and safe way through to avoid metastasis. No guarantees there. Enough to make anyone wake in the early hours with anxiety. Oh, and there is the chronic tinnitus, 6 months in and unrelenting and now sporting painful left sinus. How could I ever forget that cookie? I am awaiting a consult and as we all know in the UK, the NHS is utterly on its knees, so the noises could be with me for some time. I live in hope its a minor thing.
What do I need from you all?
Good thoughts and prayers and practical support if you have the means and time. Right now I wish I were that squirrel, digging holes for my winter store of food and flying across the bladed bright grass.
Seems to be a simpler life.