In so many ways, I am lucky.
Many people have said to me on this cancer road "we're all going to die" I'm assuming to try to make me feel better, face reality that I'm not the only one dying here, so why should I think I'm any different, or it's just a flippant throw away line because they don't know what else to say.
But guess what? This week I have learnt I am a lucky one because I "have been put on notice". Yes we are all going to die but I have been given permission, due to health circumstances, to "go out and live it up but be ready".
Stage 4 secondary metastases breast cancer in your lymph nodes behind your breast bone and around your windpipe does that to you.
I am on good meds which have kept me stable for the last three months. This week though I was having trouble breathing, not breathless, just wanted to take a deep breath but couldn't quite make it. So instead of getting more worried and procrastinating, my bosom buddy Tania Lord said go to the doctor and I listened and I went.
My doctor is the best beyond words. He went through the normal tick boxes and then asked if I was anxious. What do you mean? What have I got to be anxious about? Then we talked about the loss of our mutual friend last week and it all came out. Just all so close to home and I am still in shock at the speed in which cancer took her.
As a result I came away with ventolin and the most amazing sleeping tablets that put me on a cloud every night and I have had the best sleep in months.
Once again, I live my life as normal as I can pre cancer, but it is a disease that causes 'dis-ease'; I'm unsettled in my psyche, I have a nervous habit that has come to the fore, it doesn't take me much to know I am on the verge of tears - in short, I feel physically fine with cancer in my body and yet my mind still hasn't come to terms with it, and maybe it never will.
I am so enjoying "giving" with my KiwiSaver. I know, I know, it's meant to be for a trip but the pleasure it gives me to say "let's do this and bugger the cost" is worth 100 trips to Queenstown. So the photo below is MIL & DIL time...❤️
On Thursday I have my three monthly scan of chest, pelvis, abdomen (and if I told you about the nine phone calls to get this sorted, it would bore you to sleep) and Friday, if I am good, I see the oncologist registrar or if I have been bad, I see my oncologist who is the smartest one. I never know which one I am going to see till they appear from around the corner and call my name. Wayne and I have a chuckle about it all, you have to laugh.
So my friends, please slow down, breathe and hug each other tight.
These two paragraphs below were written for Tania Dalton and her family who weren't "put on notice".
"What does a sudden and premature death make so many of us do? It makes us reflect on our own situations, doesn't it? It gives us perspective. It makes us realise that many of the challenges we face aren't really challenges at all. It makes us stand back for a moment, and realise what we have - instead of what we don't have. It makes us realise that our time on this planet is short. The clock is ticking, and for any number of reasons we could be gone tomorrow. It makes us value our lives, because suddenly we're confronted with the alternative.
If nothing else, the tragedy of death can remind us that we need to live our lives. It reminds us to strive to see the good. To be the good. It reminds us that it is better to give people a piece of our hearts, and not a piece of our minds. And that small stuff? Don't sweat it. Let it go. It compels us to hug our kids - tight. And to tell those that are close to us that we love them, and why. Be grateful. Be kind. Be present. And most of all, value your life and the time that you have on this earth".
