Rocky the fighter... never give up

Thoughts the day before my oncology visit:

Is this pretence?
Is this a game?
Of self deceit,or other name?

Remission true!
Metastasis too!
No more to say, to know what's new?

Don't ask the question,
Don't face the fear.
I'll close my mind, re tune my ear

I want to ask, what next & when?
Does life go on; and then and then?
Dead man walking, tension high,
Oh sod it all, look to the sky.

I may not know
I cannot tell,
How long, how far, do I stay well.

At least I know to live the day.
To not let slip my time away.
To love,to cry to laugh & more.
Of friends & family true and sure.

So walk away all distant fears.
Face all full on, no sadness tears.
The day is good, the life is great.
Believe in hope & trust in fate.

Brave face painted,
Smile in place.
Emotions secured, the world to face.

So Friday morning,
Come medics all!
Beware of Rocky.
Cos she's on call.

She'll stand before you,
Defiant true,
Believe in magic, she's born anew!

Is this pretence?
Is this a game?
It matters not, I'm still the same!

Coloured Jigsaw Pieces...Amboise et Guedelon

Having got through a rather 'grey' time I was reminded that I needed to put a little more colour into this blog; look at the sky, see the flowers. Hence this post is about enjoying life & perseverance and what better way to nurture the soul than a little holiday.

So we spent a week on holiday from our holiday home in France, en route to our holiday home in England, still with me? In short, we are never sure which is our 'home', so why not alternate and why not go on holiday in between?

We packed up the camper van and set off north east following the Loire on a sunshine adventure enjoying the scenery & the culture. I say packed up because, our son, who stayed with us in France for a couple of weeks in April, had purchased an assortment of items to resell in England. These we added to & hence it all proved rather more than we had anticipated. To say we carried two chateaus and a pyramid might sound extreme, but even in Playmobile terms they are quite a bulk. Add to that an assortment of cast iron hardware, fire dogs & antiques, made the camper van both heavy & restricted.

The consequence was that we couldn't make up the full bed in the lower part of the van so had to use the pop up lid sleeping space. Designed to sleep two in the roof space, though I  think two children or very small adults, the restriction meant we opted for a double decker approach with husband on the upper deck & myself in a two thirds bed at van level.. A real feat of logistics and gymnastics at bed time reminded me of something a Scots friend said recently, ' If you're not living on the edge your taking up too much space'. Now think he was referring to life & living to the full, but it certainly was true each night as we manoeuvred into bed, particularly when fit of the giggles overtakes you or you  forget something & have to start again.

We'd also bought a number of small gifts for the family, which also had to be accommodated in the living / sleeping area/ mostly these were not a problem but the garlic (much loved by our daughter& much cheaper in France) was a step to far. Now you've heard of sleeping with wolves, even sleeping with the enemy, but sleeping with garlic right next to your head when temperatures were in the mid twenties, now that's another issue!

But for a real test of creativity,perseverance and adaptability the  two main venues we wanted to visit were Amboise and Guedelon. The former is a pretty town on the Loire river & was the last home of Leonardo Di Vinci, the artist, scientist, inventor & amazingly creative thinker. The old Amboise is a noble walled town of great age with white stone buildings towering above the river and narrow streets with small shops, the buildings of which cannot have changed in centuries. Its a place of heat and business; heat from the sun which always seems to bless it & busy with people, now tourists but in times past traders and visiting gentry. The colours here are not the only reason the great artist & inventor came here, he followed his patron who provided a house here, but the light is quite special & the blues of sky & river wonderful.

Guedelon is the site of a medieval castle that is being built from scratch using authentic medieval methods, skills & all local materials.We had seen a TV living history programme about this enterprise, which is already 15 years into construction and were intrigued to see it in reality.

To say we were blown away is a massive understatement, it was incredible. The scale of the work, the number of the trades & skills, the back up and the dedication of these mem & women is amazing. Everything uses the technology of that time, the only concession being to basic health & safety in terms of hard hats (disguised under leather or straw) and steel capped boots, but so well used over the years that even they blended into the scene.

From giant twelve foot  man wheels used to power the winches to lift the huge stones (bit like a huge hamster wheel) to safety mesh made from hand twisted wax string & hardened all the tools & all the equipment was real. No Disney look alike with people in costumes, no, these folk lived & breathed the life, working every day; hewing wood, carving stone, digging clay & throwing pots, making tiles, blacksmithing nails & tools and all by 12th Century standards. We were spell bound, so much dedication, enthusiasm and perseverance beyond belief. Fifteen years in & a predicted forty plus more to completion, before you have a brand new medieval château. And everything on the site comes from the surrounding forest, quarry, soil and all the colours are or the burnt ochre range. From deep reds & browns, through oranges & yellows to pale creams, every colour is of the earth; the over riding impression is terracotta.

So here are my colours in this jigsaw of my life & journey with & through cancer. they are the clean air crisp white & blue of Amboise and the deep red & oranges of Guedelon and both signify people who have hope & belief beyond the known or even possible.There are no certainties in life but  if you can see the uncertainties as opportunities and the mishaps as time to be inventive, then the journey just takes on a whole new hue.

And where did we end our holiday, well at Le Touquet Paris Plage, on the northern coast; a flamboyant, pretentious but fun French seaside venue with white sand & blue sea.A friend told me to look for those thin places where the sky meets the earth, they're special! Well I found mine staring at the curvature of our beautiful blue planet and into the smiling eyes of my loving husband.

Oh la la...un petit morsel

Well I've sampled the very adequate French health care system yet again. Reluctant though I was to step into the medical quagmire I had to do so as the pain in my side did not go. Time scale ran roughly like this:

• Vendredi: Saw french GP who examined & wanted further tests.
• Samedi: Bloods taken at nurses section & urine sample all dispatched to the lab.
• Lundi: Ultra scans & x ray investigation at Mayenne Clinic & came away with the plates & a full report. Pharmacy test results collected.
• Mardi: GP examined, nothing obvious 'pas grave', but awaiting urine extended tests.
• Mecredi:GP rang the house infection found causing problem to the kidneys script for antibiotics left for our collection.

In short within five days all was checked, solution found & on the road to recovery. Cost in euros, just over two hundred, cost in peace of mind & ability to sleep comfortably, beyond price.

As always the differences in the two systems (UK & France) intrigue & amuse and added to my continuing medical saga. First was the fact that you must always acknowledge social niceties even when in pain or fear, so you must greet appropriately, give due time for deliberation(at least twice the time you'd expect for a doctor to take in the UK) and show no response & certainly no humour in the face of the gravity of the procedure. Secondly you must always be aware of the French preoccupation with  fine food and all things relating to the eating etiquette & process. Its not simply, 'don't eat from midnight before the scan', its suggestions for light 'dinner' and a repeated emphasis to take ' a little bread,a little cheese~ a petit morsel in the car in order to sustain yourself between the clinic & home.

Then the clinic itself, the exterior resembled a small house with tubs of bright flowers situated on what appears to be a suburban road; bungalows & houses, people trimming hedges & walking dogs. Inside a state of the art medical facility run with military precision and polite efficiency. But then there's the pretty seating areas with tasteful art work & fake greenery and all the patients have to greet each other 'Bonjour Monsieur/ Dame',cant let the social niceties slip.

So I finally get to the ultra scanning & x ray part, the working area of the clinic and everything is done very precisely, though all a little surprisingly. Now usually in such circumstances the NHS provide a back fastening unflattering coverall robe & cover most of the not needed parts like legs or upper torso with sheets or blankets. So I was curious to see what the French would do; fashionable over garments, 'haute couture'? No, simply strip off ! I asked for clarification, in case my language skills had let me down but no, take off all your clothes & lie on the bench, the doctor will arrive soon.

I've always criticised the prudishness of the English system which insists on covering every possible unnecessary inch. Even at the point of imminently giving birth, having rushed into the cottage hospital, I was asked in the UK to "neatly fold my clothes & put my legs into the green cotton covers", the phrase 'bugger off' was shortly overtaken by the later stages of  labour contractions.But  in France, here I was no robe, nor sheet to hide my modesty, feeling somewhat vulnerable awaiting the doctor.

And when he arrived, looking like a  lab technician, white coat, high buttoned and jeans, I was questioned about my medical history for some five or more minutes, all the time stark naked lain on this bench, bizarre! Then came the internal examination, now to not go into too much detail in England the apparatus is covered in what resembles a plastic bag, not so in France; obvious really a 'French Letter' and choice of Durex colours!

Finally, the French  GP was very reassuring; it was all 'normal', 'bon'. As she oh so rightly put it, "Worry makes the pain stronger" and I was, within days, well on the way to recovery with nothing more than my dignity damaged. To borrow a phrase from my fellow cancer patient & friend "I'm out of the hole", but 'oh la la' it was a  hole with a very difference.