C'est la vie et il ya une bonne vie... A short French break

OK in France, albeit temporarily, but back. I feel like a prisoner on parole, released from the prison of cancer and its treatments and for a brief time I can be normal; breathe the clean air and live.

We’ve laughed and cried together, wined and dined in style and all the time I’ve kept thinking, “These people don’t know, I’m just ordinary to them”, it’s so good to just be ordinary. This illness seeps into your soul, makes you question everything and feel apart from everybody, so it’s great when you can just be you.

My birthday was very special with meals out, gifts and wonderful messages. Lots of smiles and a short holiday in Amboise, the beautiful old town on the Loire river famed for its amazing light and tufa stone buildings. Leonardo di Vinci spent his last years here inventing & creating in his inimitable genius manner, until dying, at the then grand old age, of sixty seven. 

It’s a magical place, even with the tourists thronging its narrow historic streets, because it retains a dignity and renaissance charm and it gives me a feeling of great hope and peace. Maybe it’s the light on the water, or the crispness of the air? Maybe it’s the clean white stone raising from the valley floor in a multitude of turrets & roof lines. But whatever it is, I always feel revitalised.

It’s not been easy to take some of the comments about myself, because I look so healthy. Or the avoidance that some have done because they are afraid to say or not say something, but Amboise reminds me to keep things clear, to stay focussed. Truth is it’s always better to say something, even ‘like’ on social media, nothing shows just that no care. I’m planning for life and leaving the dross behind me.

So we've come back to our little village and friends visiting & planning social gatherings, it’s really lovely. I still feel a little out of sync, in a different time warp and when husband and friends talk I’m not sure where my head is, but I’m staying mindful and living in the moment, in the day and for the future.

What is it Theodore Rosevelt said,

‘Do what you can, with what you have, where you are!’

Well that’s me with a lot of help from family & friends. So thank you all, you keep me smiling and, like Amboise, revitalise my world and spread a gentle but clear light across my life, into every dark corner and your kindness touches my very soul.

Lost the picture, lost my place...le voyage continue mes amis

I'm in a place I didn't expect to be just yet. It's a difficult time and I have to  and think again.
I came back from France to see the oncologist, post PET scan, leaving husband there as we thought all was OK, only to find out that the cancer had spread /returned into a chain of lymph nodes in my abdomen. Son who was with me was brilliant & both took notes,asked questions and was hugely supportive. But it was a shock... I feel & look hale & healthy, but suddenly my jigsaw existence has become rather grey.

The overriding feeling is one of acute disappointment! Yes I'm fearful but more than anything disappointment! I'll miss another summer in France this time in having  probably 25 sessions of radiotherapy.

So what do you do? How do you react? Where is your head? I felt sadness but determination, fear but hope & relieved they could do something.

So here I am rather lost for words trying to communicate how life is & how I feel. Family &  friends have rallied, visited called chatted & consoled, but I rapidly came to the decision that I just had to get on with living.

 Strengthened by all the kindness and closing the door on those few who not just ignore, but actively show their distaste ; I have donned the gloves again ready for the fight. At the beginning of my treatment over a year ago my step daughter nicknamed me Rocky, after the fighter in the film... so Rocky is in training & will be next match ready.

Nights have been fitful or sleepless as by brain tries to assess the danger & bring me to that quiet place, where you can cope with getting on with living. Hence last night I was checking mails on the internet and read about the Paris Brest Paris distance cycle ride which comes close to our house in France & I thought Id check out its history.

Started in1891 this is not so much a race but an endurance test over a continuous 1200km and the participants are called randonneurs not cyclists. Known for its  'civilised enjoyment of cycling', this cycle ride is looking for the 'perfect cyclist, any distance, any weather  and self -sufficient'.

Interesting you might think but how does this relate to my predicament or indeed that of so many others. Well it was the quote at the end which made me sit up, literally, and take note, because the organisers of this continuous ride say its, 'more about challenging yourself than beating other people'.

 Sure there is a medal for all who finishing under 90 hours, but the whole emphasis is about your doing your best and ,according to the very gentlemanly rules,helping others along the way. Spectators along the route know this and cheer as much for the last person as for the first; they are 'all winners' because they are following their own quest.

So here's my mantra, I'll become a cancer  randonneur; I'll follow the direction of that distance race, but in my life real time. To quote their philosophy...'Have fun, go fast if you like, challenge yourself & others, but remember its not a race'.

Now, where did I put those bicycle clips?

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.

The rocky road to positivity....

Well we got back to France; eighteen months of operations and treatments; a helter skelter ride of diagnosis and scans; too may drugs, too many uncertainties; lots of support, family & friends; yeah we got back to France.

I suppose I assumed all would come right, my health would go on improving, life would rally round and things would slide into a new sort of normal. People who had shown disregard would show compassion and situations and ailments that occur would just blend into our improved positive outlook.

It was never going to be a ‘normal’ as before, innocence lost & fears faced, but some kind of ‘normal’. It’s true I am beginning to build my fitness, I have returned to the village classroom and we are rapidly catching up on the maintenance of all those months of neglect. The house & garden are blooming and our gite is nearly out of mothballs & ready to run.

But you never know, once the Big C has planted its seed in your body & mind, the tendrils, real & worried about, stay forever. People, it seems, don’t change; many stay stalwart & positive, happy in our return to the country & health, whilst others remain unempathetic and harsh. I wonder if they ever consider that one day this or something much the same will hit them; we all have to face mortality, there are no free passes; I wonder then how they will feel & how they will expect others to react to them.

I have, for the last ten days been suffering from a pain in my right flank. Initially sharp and intermittent, then gradually less acute & more constant, an ache which has lowered my outlook and lit up my fear. I have taken the medications, drunk plenty of water, rested & exercised in equal measures, but nothing has made it go away: So today I had to grit my teeth, step out of my safe pink granite farmhouse & step bravely into the world of medicine again.

Now if you've ever had a serious illness you will know how you just want to be normal, want it to end and the last thing you want is the uncertainty of it continuing or worsening. My husband put his arm around me & stared deeply into my eyes, he was willing me to be well...loving me better.

And love is what will make things better; repair or renew, give surety or solace, through the uncertainties of this journey and indeed life itself. And for those who find me or my illness a challenge, I make no apology; I don’t intend to convince anyone of my worth. I stand with the people who truly value me; they give me the strength to go on.

Just for a while I’ve lost some of the pieces of the jigsaw, my picture is incomplete & I need help to find those pieces, but I have people who will do just that and for that I am so grateful. You know who you are. You are the ones who stand quietly and gently take my hand, actual or imaginary. You are the ones who don’t have another agenda, don’t feel challenged or confronted. You pick up the phone, type the text or simply think of me. Even when you don’t know what to say, even when there is nothing to say; you are my silent guardians on the path to positivity. And I thank you for that gift of life...

To a lost friend

It seems that life is cold, some people turn & say.
My daughter friend had cancer and theirs didn't go away

They tell you every detail and don't forget the pain,
Degrees of endless suffering; again, again, again!

The rarity of the cancer, the treatment they endured.
"Oh yes its worse than yours was" and they just can't be cured.

I'm only in remission, the dice can roll again.
Just trying to survive and living with the pain.

So before you are so heartless & tell me oh so clear,
That detailed medical history, the carnage based on fear.

Remember I'm still suffering, fighting daily all I may.
Until you've lived the nightmare, don't comment on my day.

I know words are based on fear, in callous, selfish hurt.
You don't know what you're doing, when shovelling this dirt!

To say I will forgive you, an action I must take.
But please just do remember, its loneliness you make.

I've heard all the explanations. Whose worse, whose sick, whose dead.
Reserve your lamentations, just keep them in your head.

I'm hurt I'm sad, I'm bleeding.
Right here within my heart.
You used to be my friend.
You've torn that right apart!