Cancer Strikes Again

I'm back. A little worse for wear, sliced up and stapled together, a bit rattled but here. I was diagnosed with cancer nine months ago and it was every bit as traumatic and difficult as you might imagine it to be.  Nobody's journey with cancer is ever easy and though mine wasn't the worst of stories it was the worst thing I have ever gone through. I've sat down to write this post about four times now and I can't quite seem to get clear what I want to say about the experience so I will just say it sucked...big time. My surgery has left me with a long scar that cuts along the top of my shoulder, loops up behind my ear and down again, then swoops around under my jaw to end in the centre of my throat. It would make a great track layout for Hot Wheels cars. It is quite something to see and definitely the most impressive of my surgical scars to date but that's just the physical reminder of the event.  It's the mental scars that are more concerning.

It takes an army to diagnose, treat and rehabilitate someone with cancer. I had that army on my side as well as many loving friends and family members without whom I don't know how I would have made it, especially my husband who was always there to hold me up emotionally and at times physically. Luckily, he is a big, strong guy in all ways and could handle that. Thanks, Ted.
This strange and difficult year, ushered in by my cancer diagnosis also contained cancer for friends and relatives along with the recent deaths of two close family members.  They were both women in their sixties and they died of cancer, different cancers than mine but it makes me feel that I am alone in a little boat, rowing upstream for all I'm worth while the mighty current of Cancer pushes me back.  It's hard work just staying in one place, but I'm not giving up.

Times like these make me admit I am getting older. I am hoping that this year was an anomaly, not the coming norm but a nasty voice whispers in the back of my head that this kind of stuff is going to keep happening. When you are young and hear of someone dying in their sixties you don't give it much thought, it might seem a bit early but not that much. When you are in your sixties it's shocking. Somehow it feels like all us nice people that eat our vegetables and get regular exercise should be given a pass on death until at least eighty. Apparently that's not how it works.

I have no great words of wisdom to give, no epiphanies to reveal. I don't believe in living life like every day is your last, that's way too much pressure for anyone let alone someone who is still recovering from illness. What I went through felt so random it's hard to make sense of it.  Even the doctors could only tell me it was bad luck when I asked why this had happened to me. That's some cold comfort. Bad things happen to good people and vice versa, that about sums it up. Will I now give up bacon, alcohol and the occasional doughnut? No. Will I take up smoking, fast food and suntanning? No. But I will try to worry less and be even more grateful for my life while pulling hard on those oars.

If you want to read more from me please go to my blog site at https://whatfayesaid.blogspot.com.
Thanks.
 

Taking a Break

Life has thrown me a curveball in the last couple of months that has kept me from posting to this blog. Medical tests and tense waiting periods for results have sapped my creative energy for writing an interesting post to entertain my dozens of fans, as I like to refer to the steadfast twenty-seven readers I think I have. Twenty-seven is technically dozens, right?

Since 2018 cracked itself open I have suffered through a crash course in patience, overcoming fear and embracing uncertainty. I have not necessarily passed that course but I’m working on it.  This has been a very destabilizing time as can happen when something so unexpected hits you from out of the blue. Like most people I spent lots of time worrying about things that did not happen and was not prepared for what did. But that’s part of the human condition, useless worry and unpreparedness.

I am standing at the end of a rainbow,
it must be good luck!

Right now I don't know what the future will bring and I'm trying to be okay with the not knowing. I haven't decided if I will post anything further about my health issue as this was never intended to be that kind of a blog. Perhaps my creativity will fight its way through the turmoil and I will find something of the absurdity of life to give my opinion on, and save my health concerns for another forum, if any. As long as no one tells me that everything happens for a reason I’ll be fine. I thank you all for visiting my blog and perhaps we will connect again soon.

Another Year Has Slipped the Reins

The Christmas decorations are all boxed up, the poinsettias are in the compost, the new year has been rung in and out. It’s 2018. We have survived a year of President Trump's twitters, Prime Minister Trudeau's socks, sexual harassment charges galore, wild fires and torrential rains, and North Korea did not push the big red button...yet.  Just another year of good and bad.  As I have written before, I don’t do New Years resolutions and this year will be no exception.  I am at the bottom of my energy cycle, the battery is drained,  just waiting it out now until spring arrives.  This blog post is being fueled by caffeine and gingerbread cookie, not by enthusiasm. Being honest with you here.

What is the hoopla about the turning of a new year anyways?  Why such a feeling of renewal and resolution for many people all around one slim day, January 1st? It’s arbitrary. It's just another year., actually just another day between one year and the next. People want to know what your plans are for the coming year, your goals.  Well, much the same as last year, folks. Take care of myself and others, be a good person, tackle the challenges with some grace and grit. The same old rules apply. There will be no easy wins, stuff happens with hard work and commitment, small joys need to be celebrated as much as the big ones, losses taken in stride, hope sown, despair weeded out.  That’s about as specific as l like to get as we all know what happens to best laid plans.... they oft go awry, so I’ve heard.  I do make plans and set goals for myself but with an understanding that this year may not be any more helpful in achieving them than the last year was. There is no magic in the change of number on the calendar. A good friend had a challenging last six months and she commented that she was looking forward to 2018 as 2017 was a prime number and she has always disliked prime numbers. That’s as good a reason as any to ring in the new year on a hopeful note.

We humans are so irrational, emotional and so easily swayed by the unexplainable. We go on feelings, gut instincts, lucky numbers, auspicious signs, and our horoscopes in the paper that morning. Anything can cause us to have a good or bad day, feel our luck is turning for or against us. Hitting three green lights in a row, no line up at the coffee shop, finding a twenty dollar bill in the coat we put on can make our day feel like a good one.  Research has shown that people who believe themselves to be lucky are more lucky. Makes no sense but there is some science to it apparently.

So that brings us back to the turning over of a calendar year and the effect it has on us. Some people can hardly wait for the year to end as they feel a new year will bring better luck or more happiness than the one that is finishing, with no actual reason for that other than faith in a new start of sorts.

 The Romans priests before the reign of Julius Caesar manipulated the calendar any way they wanted, shortening and lengthening it to suit their purposes. They could keep people in office or boot them out by changing the calendar.  Now that’s power! We don’t have that ability, sadly, so we must go along with the length of the year given us, why?  When approaching a birthday with one of the weighty zeros at the end I decided to give up the number counting and become ageless, maybe now is the time to become yearless.  It will be neither a good year nor a bad year ahead, just another set of days, the same as we had last week and the week before. This puts the onus for change and fresh starts where it belongs, not on poor overworked January 1 but on us. As for the annual party and popping of champagne and wearing of silly hats that we have all enjoyed at times, let's move that to a day that deserves it, a day that really does something for us - the winter solstice.

Another minute of daylight, now that is something to celebrate!

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