Glass bridges and gentle footsteps.

Recently I viewed an image on social media of a bridge in China; located in Hunan Province it is some  984 feet long &  spans a crevasse some 590 feet deep. Apparently the longest of its kind, what makes this bridge amazing is that the floor is made of glass; inch thick yes, but clear glass! So not surprisingly its called 'Brave Men's Bridge'.

Can you imagine the effect this has on people, they have to fight their natural instincts & overcome deeply held fears, just to cross it. Much like cancer I thought except no one forces them to endure it, but they do have a choice. And like cancer also the  resulting behaviour I believe is much the same.

Some choose to be led across, others freeze part way, some crawl and there are even those that close their eyes in order to across. Similarly, with the dreaded C we all react differently. For those enduring it there is no choice about having it, the only choice is how you deal with it. Do you reach out to others, take a steady hand or trust in others knowledge or do you set out alone only to freeze part way through the journey. Some move slowly, measured, hoping that their actions will alter the outcome. Still also some close their eyes and hope the fear will go away and that the terror will subside if they don't look. "I'm fine everything is normal", for them is it  pretence or self preservation?

Similarly those who support must find a way to react; head on brazen it out, avoid and just don't talk or react to it, go slowly and hope that makes the subject easier to deal with...all strategies  to cope.

 I don't judge any of  the reactions, we are each individuals and each has to find our own way over that bridge. The commonality is the journey, not the bridge, what we do about it defines who we are and that is, I believe, true of our whole lives.

As for me,  I'm someone who would avoid such a real bridge. I hate the theme park rides, bungee jumps or parachute drops indeed shudder at the thought of man made thrills. I only ever seek self controlled  danger like windsurfing, skiing and motor biking, the joy is in surmounting the fear and enjoying the ride! So I face my own glass bridge unwillingly, but my path is to look ahead, beyond the fear and fix my gaze on the end of that bridge. I'm not sight seeing along the way, I am trying to help and explain to others how it is, but I intent on getting to the other side and words help me do that.

Perhaps the thing that makes man attempt daring deeds, have great adventures or take a risk on crossing a glass bridge, is the feeling of exhilaration when then achieve that challenge, when the get to their goal and the joy success. My fear is overcome by hope. #

I hope not too falter in despair or freeze in denial, but to lift my gaze, breath in the clear air and share in the joy that is hope. After all life is one hell of an experience and hope lifts the spirits and helps us see the new day.

Where the mind leads...

Its been a long time coming, there have been a lot of tears and an abundance of caring, but yesterday I hit the jackpot.
Now it may not be the big win or the final cure, but it was life affirming and restored my hope. Close to a year since my last chemotherapy, nearly two years from that original diagnosis and a multitude of ups and downs, but yesterday was a good one.

When you spend your days and weeks wondering what those results will say, how your body will react, when the medics will take charge again, anything that gives you a measure of control, is blessed. When you march to the hospital clock and the rythmn of appointments and treatments,your freedom, is like that of a tethered dog.

But yesterday I was given a three month pass, a ticket to carefree life, ordinary and wonderful. For how many years do we take for granted the future and the hope of time? It just exists, always has and,so we tell ourselves, always will be.

So when the oncologist says she is pleased with the scan and that those days of radiotherapy have worked, you stagger with disbelief, gasp with wonder. I am not cured, its not over, but for three blissful months I don't need to think about the what ifs and my family and friends can relax and smile.

To see their faces, hear the catch in their voice, watch the sparkle  in their eyes and the tumble of their words, is a joy, pure joy. The saddest and hardest thing about cancer is the fact that you may be hurting the very people you love so much and yesterday I could lift that burden and laugh with them.

On Wednesday I took my mum for a 90th birthday Mother & Daughter Spa Day; a way of saying thank you and I love you, for all she has given in our not so easy relationship. I tried to think what  gift she would want and decided to feel young  and frivilous again and to have time was the best gift I could give and we had a wonderful day. She laughed and chatted to the beautician as though she herself were twenty two again, getting her nails painted and comparing life's stories, it was wonderful to watch.Two days later I get that gift of time back and hear her voice so pleased at what the medics say.


And my son and daughter each smiling into the phone when I ring them from the hospital corridor, I can hear the smile in their voices, the truly wonderful pleasure in their tones, its magical! Messages and calls thanking, informing spreading the good news, I am again humbled at peoples care and real pleasure.

And my husband, who can't stop smiling, fidgeting with excitement, stopping mid sentence to just stare, then smiling again, His brain full of plans and love, he can't contain his pleasure, doesn't want to, his joy is in every movement and every nuance of his expression and vocabulary.

On Wednesday, on the gym wall at that spa, I read a boxing quote and it touched me, but its only now I know the real depth of meaning of those words and I intend to stand  by them.
They read,
                         'Where the mind leads, the body follows...'

Stress, well relatively speaking...

On Wednesday I received a message from a very old friend and ex colleague. She overcame breast cancer some 24 years ago, but sadly the cancer has returned . Within the tissue around the site of the radiotherapy.

Ironic that the cure that had helped her heal had damaged the tissue and given cancer access to grow. At first this devastating news seemed very uncertain; operation, skin graft, chemo, radiotherapy.. uncertain!. But by Thursday with MRI and . scan results, it was clear that the cancer was localised and thankfully had not spread.
It's at these times you understand the meaning of 'stress'. This family have already stared into the abyss of cancer, grappled with the treatments and the fear. It seemed so unfair that they, and, in particular she, should have to face the ordeal again That's stress!

Then there was Friday morning, something and nothing in the light of all the procedures over the last eighteen months, a simple dentists visit. I'd been in August, have always maintained regular checks, but had a niggling tooth....maybe part of a filling missing I thought. Unfortunately seems I have a badly decayed molar, below the gum line and an extraction is necessary. Silly, its only an extraction, been there before, but it just got to me. Maybe its past experience; dental surgery, a broken jaw, but more self pity....my stress bucket overflowed. Single stress, not the real, double hard fear, sleep stealing with your face hard against the wall...bit it got to me.

Then Friday evening came and the news broke of the carnage on the streets and in the theatres and restaurants and bars of Paris. Innocent people, enjoying a night out, relaxing, suddenly had their life cut short, their friends and family devastated and a nation in morning. Stress on a national & international scale.

Now the thing with stress is its relative. That little word, so readily used, is always, always relative. Yes my friend is in a difficult place and has to undergo surgery and skin grafts, her family have weeks and months of worry. And yes my minor dental anxiety has to be dealt with.

But for all those families scarred forever, damaged; all those relationships destroyed, hope ended...a very different dimension to stress. We all need to remember our relativity, consider the fairness and analyse the depth.. it still feels overpowering, overwhelming and debilitating, but at least today we can get up and move, we have actions we can take.
In Paris some innocent people have lost that choice, they will never get up and move again.

Get by with little help from our friends...

I got to feeling gloomy,
No reason, just too much.
Those words, so far, not easy,
Be quiet, do not fuss.

And tired, keeping cheerful,
And smile if I can.
Above those words of medicine,
And love of this one man.

It's 'metastatic' movement,
It's 'palliative' care.
It means nothing on the paper,
To me it's everywhere.

I can't escape the meaning,
I can't avoid the fear.
I try to cover over,
And bring my loved ones near.

And bombs and guns and suffering,
All worldly woes and fears.
Above those words of freedom,
The bigotry and jeers.

Unlike those tragic victims,
My battle gives me time.
To say the words that matter,
To make a peace with mine.

But cloudy, dowdy,Sunday
And sorry for myself.
The words that clog my heart strings,
Lie dusty on the shelf

I think people have forgotten,
Its all gone on so long.
I'm  crying in the side-lines,
It surely must be wrong.

And have you seen how well she looks?
And yes she seems content.
It cant be what they say it is,
It can't be what she meant.

They cant believe or fathom,
They cant maintain the pace.
They've given hope and kisses,
They've looked me in the face.

But months and years are passing,
And now as time goes by.
We're left to keep on smiling,
And always wondering why?

So cry alone and silent,
So love can give me hope.
So much intense emotion,
So far, so near to cope.

And Paris streets are shaken,
And Syrian children cry.
And I consider lucky,
I know the reason why.

But need a little help now,
A visit or a word.
The world and we need healing,
Your  voices must be heard.

Content' and 'well' and 'happy',
The mirror can tell lies,
Just look a little closer,
You'll see it in my eyes !

So share with all a smile,
Give each a word, a thought,
Remember we're in this together,
This life, this world....or naught.




.

Time,time, time to see what's become of me

It's a sort of in between feeling, a limbo, as I wait, yet again. Finished the last of ten radiotherapy sessions eight weeks ago. Saw the oncologist after six weeks, further scan after seven...its all numbers, everything measured in time, my life counted out.

Used to be I measured time by school terms, seven to eight weeks of work to every break; booked appointments, family visits, friends activities and yearly celebrations marking the time. There were jobs to do in those holidays, people to see, life to catch up on. And all the time plan for how to achieve the next goal, make the next step, whether that be personal or professional.

Holidays and hobbies, passions and interests and plenty of good times. I cycled, skied, windsurfed and sailed. On horseback or motorbike, gym shoes or walking boots. The goals were measured in numbers and levels: how far run, what grade in karate, what wind speed, which sail size and all those numbers celebrated.

And then there was professional development; Open University, London Externals, night classes and courses. Psychology & leadership, dyslexia and behaviour difficulties, headship and lecturing. Never staying still always looking to improve, understand more, challenge and question; my time devoted to those children & young people with learning or behaviour difficulties.

And more latterly the goals have been French orientated; early retirement, renovation, learning a language & culture and setting up a small holiday business www.abientot-art.com. More goals, more chalenges, time passing tick tock, tick tock...

And why am I musing this now, well it was all about long term goals and control. Cancer has you questioning or rearranging anything long term and the control passes entirely to the medics.So here I am in between: between the two worlds of what I was and who I am and waiting, pacing time.

Hence I was fascinated when I watched a programme fronted by Professor Brian Cox entitled, ' What time is it?' With his incredible mix of science and story telling he explained in stages how time is measured in different ways and that there is no definitive answer The earth is apparently slowing down on its axis, very gradually, but slowing and  time is thus moving differently. The Myans believed  in honouring space and the movement of the planets, a balance between time and space. Brian Coxs physicists assertion that potentially 'Time made space', was intriguing and rang home with me.

Time may be segmented, currently measured intensely, but always linked with perception.The time space continuum may be complex and hard to comprehend, but endless and everlasting.

 Now that's what you call long term goals....sorted!

When you're back to your old self.

Cancer is a funny old bed mate, constantly surprising you, always reminding you and never predicable.
I suppose its the same with all life threatening illnesses, the damage and the remedies all have their own side effects, their own set of problems. But with the Big C it seems the cures are seemingly overtly fraught with their own set of side effects.

Chemotherapy, dependent on its mix  causes nausea, fatigue, hair loss, memory problems, neuropathy, taste problems, hearing loss, appetite changes, nerve damage,weight loss or gain, bladder and or bowel issues, tinnitus, nail changes and many many more.

Radiotherapy, depending on how much & where causes nausea, skin problems, fatigue, bone problems, digestive & bowel issues, burns, local hair loss, taste & smell, joint problems and many many more.

Surgery can have a vast number of side effects dependent on type & complexity and cover both physical changes & psychological issues involved.And all the while the healing process is hampered by the damage to other systems caused by any number of therapies 

But its not so much the symptoms during the treatments that cause the difficulties, its the fact that they can continue weeks or months after the actual treatment. In the words of the medics, 'It goes on cooking' and so just as you feel you are improving, things slip back. Then on top of this is, the compound effect of one treatment after another, all attacking your body to kill those cancer cells, but also attacking & damaging healthy cells, delaying or impeding  your immune or lymphatic systems. The whole body has to deal with an onslaught of chemicals & radiation.
Now I'm not saying for one moment that these treatments are not worth it, they are designed to save or improve your quality of life. But unlike most  other times in your  medical life nothing is predictable, nothing can be taken as read.

Past history tells us that operations heal, limbs mend, diseases respond and symptoms improve; you take your cure and all goes back to normal.
But not so cancer, you are never the same, never back to your old self. We all try to put on a positive face, seem upbeat, look normal and do normal. So a wonderful night out with friends and a slightly different diet and bedtime, something that's hardly a hardship, suddenly becomes two days of symptoms & fatigue. I'm not complaining, just observing and noting if its difficult for those fellow patients, its very confusing for on lookers, for everyone else. one minute seemingly fine then not. Its difficult to explain, seems counter intuitive and is frustrating for every one. Its as though you have become instantly old, no matter what age you start at, things don't work; senses & limbs malfunction, systems and fitness falter.

As my husband, a cancer survivor of some twenty five years or more put it, cancer gives you immediate access to an  exclusive club; its not one you want to join , but you are a member  and that's for life. So a pain or twinge makes us think, an area of your body that's sensitive or a random cough can become a real worry. Is it back, am I in danger? 
Pain is a part of living, without it in everyday life we would injure ourselves more, undertake riskier activities and not learn what is healthy for our bodies. We need it to tell us when to stop, when to move and mostly we don't think about it. Our autonomic system just keeps everything running and our wonderful  bodies continue their amazing self healing processes. 

Pain as a teacher is something I learnt about recently, having injured my foot some five / six weeks ago. Initially & because of the cancer, my age and the fact that I'd recently flown, I was tested for DVT, lymphoedema and infection; scanned, medicated & massaged, but to no avail. It was only when all else was checked that an X ray disclosed that I had indeed broken  the second metatarsal in my left foot. Seems that the neuropathy, caused by the chemotherapy damaging nerves, which means I have limited feeling in my foot, had shielded the fact that I must have broken & then walked on my left foot.

With cancer you have to accept your vulnerability even the potential  of your own death. Cancer challenges everything about yourself, sets new rules, breaks old boundaries and never lets you know what's next. So when a friend said recently that they'd come and visit when, "you're back to your old self", my response was short & I hope not too harsh. 

Simply, "Make it soon. I'm the same me, but will never be the old self!"

To radiology, the art of gentle giants.

Arrived at radiology,
Bedraggled & bereft,
Post ops & chemotherapy,
And not much courage left.

And awfully claustrophobic,
You put me at my ease,
And answered all my questions,
And all my fears appease.

You listened to my ramblings,
With patience and respect.
And smiled at my uncertainty,
Were never cross or vexed.

So here's my little thank you,
For all you did for me.
It means a lot to each of us,
How caring you can be!

We're victims in a battle,
We're wounded in a line
With comradeship and humour
We wait who next, what time?

To you not faceless masses,
We're peoples husbands, wives.
To each you give attention.
You value all our lives.

I'll miss your gentle banter,
I'll miss your winning smile.
I may have to come back to you.
But hope not for a while.

So thank you from my heart,
For care and empathy.
The NHS triumphs again.
In Radiology!