Little words in the night...petit mots dans la nuit

Une semaine.
Deux douleur.
Trois repete.
Quatre horreur!

This time France.
Aching deep.
Medics grapple.
Need to sleep.

Feel the tension.
Tight with pain.
Deep anxiety.
Back again!

I'll get there.
But what the price?
Enter feardom.
Pain the vice.

Hearing the message...

Back in France for the 2015 season and sorting the gite for forthcoming guests. 2014 was a strange old year as I was diagnosed in the UK, with cancer, hence France and all things French had to go on hold. Operations & treatments over we have returned to France to re-establish our life here and build on our dreams.

As part of the after effects of the chemotherapy I have  hearing loss, which hopefully will repair, but in the meantime is a source of confusion, frustration & amusement in equal measures. So it was that on our journey back across the channel with our son all geared up to working on the house & land that several misheard words & phrases became a point of great hilarity.

It stated with the restaurant on the ferry & my confusion that the  dishes didn't quite sound right and as we had taken our own Coca-Cola with us, we might be asked to " Walk the plonk". Seems like I'm hearing French in a 'Hello, Hello' manner. Soon I'll be " Just p****ssing by" and saying this "only vunce"

The journey to our farmhouse was equally as crazy when , as son read out the name of one junction, instead of Saint James, I thought he said " Sid James"... a strange name for French village...oh well 'Carry On'.

Well at least my French brain does not seem to lag behind like my English chemo brain. I can't help wondering if its mostly more recent knowledge & that 'primacy recency rule' applies i.e what was the last thing to learn is the first remembered. Maybe its simply that the demand & supply of French words & grammar is more limited so I've less expectation & less of the language to loose. If so, it really would be a case of, ' Less is more'  and knowing my ears it really would be more or less 'Toulouse'.

Ode to 2013: A year on, poems from my operations days...

April 2013:  Muse while awaiting surgery

Here I am again, surgically pure.
ready for the medics.
To do their cutting cure.

Sheets and efficiency, questions oh galore.
Have I, will I, do  I.
More & more & more!

Nurses, doctors, medics.
Pressure, stats and calm.
Circle marks the cutting point.
Not too much alarm.

I wonder how many beds & wards & medics too,
It takes for me to ponder,
Life's meaning , oh so true?

May 2013: Post surgery planning the future...

It takes all these reminders.
Mortality and pain.
To concentrate the mind,
And make me think again.

So here's my plan this morning,
The way I want to go.
Leave hospitals behind me,
And true full heath to know.

I now sit here awaiting.
All done, alone, just me.
Good day, good year & plenty.
For us, for you, for me.

Two Blogs One Life...and loving it

Back in France and about to return to my voluntary teaching in the small village school.

Its been 18 months since I last taught there;  a year of cancer diagnosis,operations & treatments. So  I am on the eve of writing a piece which actually applies to both the blogs I maintain;  www.frenchchalk.blogspot.fr  and www.diagnosisjournal.blogspot.com ; a strange feeling, my two worlds colliding.

So what am I going to teach, well what else but family. "Je m'appelle Md. Machin, et vous?" I start again, mostly new / different children and  I needs must return to basics; names, introductions and family.

Very apt, in that, in France and particularly rural France,  ' mon famille' is all important. Indeed it was my family that was so important in my journey to recovery. More than a ' basic social unit related to one another', my family close & family of friends near & far have given me the encouragement to keep going.


So when I talk with the children and when we share our languages & experiences, it will mean so much more now.I will be communicating between my two worlds, merging  my France in France & my life with and of cancer.

So, Monday, in that small classroom will indeed be a joy; the joy of teaching, sharing, laughing, encouraging; in short the joy of living and that is difficult to write a lesson plan for. 

So here's my draft:           Lesson Plan for Life
OBJECTIVE: To share the joy of family close & far and understand how special they are
SYLLABUS / SCHEME/ PLAN: Learning intentions & Prior Learning
To communicate the emotion, recognise the limits and learn & apply prior life skills.
OUTCOMES:Key vocabulary & resources needed
Hope, positivity, resourcefulness and love
LEARNING ACTIVITIES: Warm up, differentiation and measurable goals.
So many years, so many faces and so much of the path trod. Yet still a lot to learn...
ASSESSMNET & EVALUATION:
Living & loving....

Now that's what OFSTED would call, ' Outstanding'

The Coloured Jigsaw...Ma vie est bonne

Here I am now, back well ensconced in the rural French life style and  a million miles away from the sterile medical world and the ever constant fears of diagnosis and treatments. 
Nearly eighteen months of uncertainty, not over but, at least for now in abeyance, officially no current active cancer, I am in remission.

I had met up with my fellow 'Living with Cancer' course buddies, well the few that could or , would or wanted to make it & we chatted,  laughed and finally, embraced & left our different ways. "Ring any time", "Remember we are one", we all agreed, but that would not be so easy, we felt the link, but it was not a commonality we wanted to share, not a similarity we wanted to develop.

So at the end of March, we settled our UK property & with son, set off back to the world we had been so abruptly torn from and the place & country we love, France. I suppose it should have been a good omen when, upon arrival we all felt immediately relaxed & for my son & husband, unreasonably tired.They toiled, they slept, they toiled they slept..a strange cathartic rythum of honest work and a year of mental exhaustion. It was as if the very French countryside had crept over us, soothed us, calmed us, reminded us of more innocent times and, like babes tired from our troubled adventures, lulled us to sleep.


We trawled the markets, restocked the wood pile and toiled in the garden: all good wholesome work making limbs tired & soothing our minds. Mindfulness is easy when you are focussed on the present necessity of setting nature in order, sleep becomes automatic when limbs are tired from strain & brains from grappling with language, social meetings & cultural differences. There's no room for speculation on mortality or anxiety about what might be when the present is so demanding & all around you.

Spring becoming early summer; from primroses to cherry blossom and endless greenery bursting into life. The migrant birds returning and bird song from early morning to late evening and all around the world  celebrating the season & the sunshine.So slowly we have begun putting our house, well gite & grounds, into order and rebuilding the  dream which has sat waiting for nearly eighteen months. We walked away in ignorance of what was to befall us, expecting to return in a few months to set up and settle into another summer in French bocage. Now we must needs start again!




We have had so much help & care in England, family & special friends who have gone so fa,r so many times in small  & large ways to help us. It has been humbling & was good to know they felt at ease in the knowledge that we were in France, happy & content. And then there have been the people here, who have helped & stood up to be counted and now  were waiting to greet, wish us well, dine with us, chat & check all was OK, reignite & rebuild old friendships.

Last night was one such occasion when we went out to eat at  a super restaurant weitha good French friends Nicole. life has not been easy for her this last year, but she celebrated with us, happy in our good times. At the end of the evening, her parting gift to me was a beautiful flower arrangements; it said it all, we were enjoying the good times and shaking a fist at the bad. My jigsaw pieces become increasingly more colourful and their links show wonderful detail of light & pattern.


And is it all idyllic ? Am I at peace with the world? Do I spend each day smiling at the blue skies & open vistas? Well sometimes yes, but mostly no. I still struggle with side effects & worry about what might be or how I ought to do more or get more fit. But good wines & fine French dining, give me a perspective on life & a realisum that allows me to relax & enjoy life for what it is. And when this little piece of paradise does not quite work or toil becomes too much and underlying fears raise their head, I've learnt a simple mantra from the last year...
"Oh sod it...la vie est belle"

The Medics Saga...reflections on diagnosis

The nerves are quite rattling me,
I'm getting quite unnerved,
A week away decision time,
I know its quite absurd....

"There can't be any changes,
The answers just the same.
So go away and live a life,
But do come back again".

"Its quite a simple question,
Like one & one make two.
We know all the combinations,
Just not how it applies to you."

"Our art is not a science,
We cannot read the runes.
We only know , you're doing fine,
Keep dancing to our tune."

"We can quote to you statistics,
Know factual stuff galore.
But when it comes to life & death,
Our knowledge is quite poor."

"We can't predict the future,
We don't have certain fact.
You are the unknown factor,
To keeping you intact."

"For all our seeming science,
And juggling of the data.
Our drugs will only treat in part,
Your will, will keep life later."

"So don't ask us all the questions,
Don't think we know the way.
That's in your own self power.
Each year, each month, each day."

"We have to save the patients.
We have to make them fit.
Us medics, limitations,
We only know a bit."

We conjure up our potions,
Repair, restore & heal.
The secret is not science.
Live life, live love...live real."

Empathy overload...

Well its now some sixteen weeks, nearly four months, since my last chemotherapy. I thought all would be good by now; side effects subdued, stamina restored and some form of normality returned to life. What I have found is that the goal posts for normality have moved permanently,I can't simply rebuild & live at the same level. My normal and me are changed forever, not altogether bad, just different.

And if I feel this, so do others around me, people only have a certain level of empathetic giving, beyond which they tire & cant sustain. I understand this well;at f irst there is the shock & need to show sympathy & support then the concrete aid & visits, the gifts & cards;its all according to plan. Then comes the months of treatment the intermittent accompanying illnesses and the uncertain test results, it must all seem bewildering confusing. Is she well, is she cured , has she still got cancer, do I need to worry, what can I do now? So the messages &  visits have reduced. No one assures me that I am in their prayers or thoughts, perhaps they think I've had my quota. The calls have lessened, it is I who must contact people & arrange meetings, down to me to make the calls or send the text. Its not a lack of care from others, its simply empathy overload & people have to get on with their lives, time moves by.

I was reminded of this today,remembering it was Friday again. Why Friday? Well since the beginning of the year, every Friday, a Saudi blogger called Raif Badawi, has been awaiting news as to whether or not he will receive part of the 1000 lashes punishment  given because of his assertions on line about free speech in a Muslim country. Initially the worlds press were full of this atrocity, then, as time passed fewer countries voiced objection. Canada & France and even our very own Prince Charles stood up and demanded justice. But as time passes everyone's empathy weakens, Raif is not headline news. True Amnesty International tirelessly campaign for his release, his wife & family in Canada fight  for a reprieve. , but the world turns on  & this courageous young mans plight gets forgotten. Its just human nature, people can't keep fear that alive, cant be that in focus continuously, but for Raif, life in fear does not diminish with time.

Well, I am not in that terrible position & I am relatively well. But I still have the diagnosis 'incurable but treatable' & I struggle daily. From the lymphedema  in my legs, as my body tries to cope with the after effects of removing so many lymph nodes and  the neuropathy (nerve pain) as my body attempts to repair those longest nerves in my hands & feet. Its not the cancer that is ailing me its the effects of the cure; those four operations &  six cycles of chemotherapy, in short Im suffering from the cure. Do I need to worry, well even I wont ask that question of the oncologist directly.
And will I be cured, am I in remission or cloud cuckoo land the questions & the answers are unknowable even for the medics. I sometimes feel like a fraud, attention seeking & malingering. I've endured the surgeons blade & struggled with the medics poison, Ive battled the nausea & fatigue so when do I get to say enough?

Seems like I never do. I must continue to take those small steps and hope those around me can see I am not returning to the person I was, that has changed forever, but am striving to be a different, stronger, focussed and carefree and more mindful individual. There are those precious few who have maintained & voiced the concern, held onto the need to support and, despite all that is happening in their lives, keep the contact. To them I give a gratitude beyond words; you keep me sane, make me laugh, lift my spirits and give me hope.

I've completed all the outer edges of the jigsaw, I have found all the key elements of the picture, I even have the big picture and its not so grey. But I now have to deal with all those green & blue pieces, the grass & the sky. So here's a big thank you to those few who have stayed the course, who sit with me still, through the hours of shaping the future & linking the pieces. You have my thanks, not for you empathy overload, but love.