Nobody panic, nobody panic...

My Facebook  profile today reminded me of a memory from two years ago on the 1st June 2014, it read:
"Lovely Sunday Morning, but hard to remain cheerful. My legs very swollen (lymph drainage post op) and severe nausea. Today might be one hour at a time".
Well I thought, look what determined did!

Just occasionally life lets me forget how hard it has been on this cancer journey and then reminds me , with avengence, just how hard it still is sometimes. There I was continuing the daily toil, looking forward to a holiday, from our holiday home to below the Loire and the hope of some sunshine, then reality came up.

Started with what seemed like a stomach upset, over a week became worse and finally, partly by anxiety and largely by my husbands insistence, a visit to the French GP. Now anyone who has had cancer and particularly when you know its not curable, will tell you, such events go from mild  concern to real raw worry in no time. So, French in hand and determined to play this down, its only a bug & not a reoccurrence, I visited the 'Medicine'.  She examined, asked about the rash (which I hadn't even noticed before) on my stomach & chest and then said it was vital I had further tests immediately! I thought meningitis, allergic reaction, but no she asserted she needed to check my blood platelet levels. Apparently if they drop dramatically, with my compromised immune system, it could be very dangerous and an indication of cancer spread!

OK what was it that Jonesy said in Dad's Army, "Nobody panic, nobody panic, I can do it myself!". The doctor telephoned & we were instructed to go to  Mayenne immediately for further tests. " Please to drive quickly, but not dangerously" madame le docteur instructed us as she sent us on our way with, 'bon courage', ringing in our ears. We were silent to start with, both deep in thought , commenting on traffic and the town, both in another place seeking strength and not believing.

Now for those who think the UK & French medical systems are very different I disagree. having been hospitalised three times in France and twice that in the UK I have only praise for both. The reaction times, the clarity of referral and the actions are equally praiseworthy in both. Maybe in France the wait is a little less but the follow up in the UK is deeper & longer; maybe the additional support is from the outset in the UK, but in France the time/ one to one care is great.

We arrived, I  had blood tests and had a phone message with the results on our answer phone from the GP, before we got back the 15 miles from Mayenne. Apparently all was well, my platelet levels were good and my bloods were, "parfait". So we went from uncertain, to intense concern, to OK, 'I'm unwell, but its just a stomach bug".

Hence we go on, day by day, just as we should looking forward and keeping ever hopeful. And life ticks on. We looked at each other, deep in our own worlds and wondered, wondered and smiled. Its hard to understand the level of reality and inevitability this fractured jigsaw journey can take, but its sure not dull.

 And a Facebook friend commented about my memory from 2014, '...you have been so brave and courageous. You are a beacon to us all!'. Its a lovely sentiment  but I've certainly never felt brave or courageous and as to my beacon, well it certainly flickered this week, but its now reset to light my way again.
This jigsaw started with confusion, no clear picture and just the corner pieces. I've just realised that its grown from a hundred pieces to an immeasurable number; so much, so many, so far and so detailed. And now I can share some of that with others, perhaps be a little piece in their jigsaw as they are in mine.

Ode to my Grandmother and Mother...the plight of so many women. With love...

I feel it coming, I want you close,
To shield and nurture. Goodness knows.

You held me tightly and went within,

To hold a baby, that's not a sin.

You tried so hard, so cruel your fate.

Alone & lonesome. No friend , no mate.

The world conspired. Generations too.

You were not wanted, in that way true.

A Guardsman skilful, your pity took.

In lace & laughter, your world he shook. 

Then left you loveless, to fend & fear.

A child was taken. That price too dear!

T'was years later , you found your soul.

Who loved you truly and all was whole.

But babies change you. They scar and touch.

You could not give love. You'd lost so much!

And lonely child, you raised apart.

She had no friends, she stood apart.

And learned full circle, when her time came.

She couldn't cope. It was the same!

She wanted badly, she tried so hard.

But separation and bonds a shard.

Doomed maybe always, though love and care.

This damaged twosome, felt life's despair.

When love is lost and no one sees,

The pain & crying. "Just help me please".

And then you held this babe of mine.

Your heart was whole. You'd found your time.

Now he has grown and babe no more.

And lost alone, you help implore.

Stop just one minute. Be still don't cry.

I love you mother and I will try.

I cannot stop the tick of time.

To each allotted. No reason, rhyme.

But I can help you not to fear.

Be still and calm now. Comfort near.

Over time and Inspiriation

My Facebook account told me yesterday that it was two years ago that I had the third of my four cancer operations and how I then hoped it would all be over with. Little did I know then that this was merely the beginning and that I'd sit here two years on ,grateful but continuing the daily challenge, that is my life.

And every one of those intervening days I have found inspiration from some one or something. I've not always been upbeat, my own harsh internal realism makes it impossible for me to hide and the world can be cruelly damming. Yet through my journey so many and so much has lifted me up and continues to thrill my heart & brighten my day. From the flowers of spring and  the messages from friends to the continuous and ever deep positivity and love of my husband and family...pure inspiration, I thank you

And recently  I was reminded by a new inspiration, the cancer journey of others; some further along than me and some just starting that rocky road, but all inspiring. Its hard to recall the harsh physical realities of Chemo, not that you can't remember, but that your brain screens out the reality, shuts off the overwhelming effects of being slowly but effectively cured ,but poisoned! So in talking to two neighbours in France(one English & one French), both undergoing chemo for breast cancer. I was reinspired by their  human resilience and reminded that the steps towards the goal have to sometimes be very small.

For one lady it was getting the energy to achieve the smallest task and the psychological courage to go out and about and for the other, an elderly farmers wife, it was about not doing as many tasks and looking after herself. Two different ages, natioanlities, outlook and  journeys, but their determination to lift their heads and walk on was and is inspiring. Then there are the messages, sent through social media,from an acquaintance whose husband, a in his forties ,has an embolism & bleed in his brain and is in hospital in an induced coma.

Her journey is different but she continues a forty mile trip daily to sit by his bedside & talk to him. Friends, relatives and neighbours I understand are helping, stepping in to support in big & little ways, it restores your faith in human nature. With all that is bad and evil in this world  close in we step towards each other we are inspired to help.

So yesterday my elderly French neighbour, with little hair and grey palour, took the arm I offered and slowly walked up the randonne. She was tired, she said, the chemo is difficult she said, but look around you the spring flowers are all here and summer is just close. Do you have further treatment she asked me, I explained I return every three months and never know what the bloods and scans will show, but I'm good. Her old eyes turned to me and she smiled;  we must always remember, whatever the world brings, life is good she said. "Regarde les fleurs, la soleil; la vie ce belle".

I couldn't agree more!

And thank you all who give me that personal inspiration...

Three month normality, but you don't have to read this...

I haven't written my cancer blog for some months. Its not because I have nothing to say or that I have lost interest in the world, more that I feel that a state of 'normality' has settled.

You don't usually, in your daily life, feel the need to write your thoughts, examine your emotions or reassess your goals. What you do and think is 'normal', you just go on, but on the cancer journey you question everything & all is in turmoil, nothing is stable.
However for the last couple of months, in terms of cancer, all has been 'normal'.

Life's ups and downs have continued and time taken with illness in the family and elderly parents have rushed in to fill the void left by 'normality', taken the time. And so it has given me time to reflect, to dare to look back and to wonder what next, how can I use this experience.

Several months ago deep into the radiology, an acquaintance said to a friend, they were 'sick of hearing about cancer' and questioned why 'people need to air it all'. My reply and that of my friend was, well you don't have to read it. This is my 'Diagnosis Journal', the jigsaw pieces are my life and mine alone. It saddens me that fear or spite, or whatever causes such a reaction can be so harmful. These words are for me and reach out for me, if they entertain, arouse emotion or empathy along the way so be it, but they are mine!

But it made me stop and think about writing. Like many a creative person I'm sure I questioned whether this was self indulgent and, by merit of it being a medical journal somewhat attention seeking...a sort of literary Munchausen Syndrome? Then I came to the rational decision that if 'existing, loving, caring enduring, fearing, suffering, overcoming, experiencing' and 'living' were all 'normal', as indeed we all know them to be, writing them is merely an expression of that human condition. I think the person who said this and others who shy from me have their own problems and my words or actions on this cancer journey ignite their fear.


So I'm back. Back to my three month interim 'normal'. Back to my inadequacies and failings , back to my strengths and uncertain abilities and most important back in France. And I think this reflective time has given me a very special gift, I can try to give to others a little of the care & love that has been given to me.

Keep learning. Brittany v Bretagne

I write two very different blogs; this one, 'French Chalk',  about my experiences in France, in particular in relation to teaching & education, and the other ' The Grey Jigsaw', about my personal journey through & with cancer.

These are quite disparate blogs, but just once in a while the two overlap and what occurs in one is relevant and applies in the other. And his occurred this week on a visit to one of my cousins and his wife, who now live permanently in Brittany, France.

Now to explain I have to give you some background, if you like set the scene. This cousin is one of two brothers, who I am close to from my home town of Gosport in Hampshire and both brothers now own property in Brittany. Starting with a big renovation job of a country cottage over years and now a further renovation of a village town house. They have worked together, played together and holidayed together and in 2015 the eldest one decided to settle permanently in France.

Now this is a big move for anyone, with the arrangements, the legal stuff, the systems, the language and the culture, but for my cousin  and his wife this was an even bigger step as he is diagnosed with Parkinson's and she has longstanding health problems.

We arrived for our stay excited but unsure how they would be coping, its a tall order to take such a big step and challenge yourself, but what an amazing thing they have done. The house is a delight and made so homely, the plans are afoot for work and they are slowly but surely getting embedded in the local community; learning French and joining groups, it great to see!

We visited the area and its delights; had coffee in it village bars, ate in a local restaurant and puzzled at the signs written dually  in French & Breton. We had three days of pleasure in a very different part of France, a real holiday on holiday, it was lovely.

So what has this to do with education or cancer, well its all about determination and  belief. They have not sat back and thought , 'we can't do anything', ' we have to just put up with what life has dealt', no they are up and fighting. Its not easy, but they are taking on a new life and moving forward, brilliant. They are not accepting the limitations, they are seeking solutions and adapting to a new way of being.

Children learn & accept they won't get it all right, but keep trying. They immerse themselves in what needs to be done, seek solutions and eagerly engage in change. There is a fundamental conflict underlying learning; starting with not understanding and driven by and desire to comprehend, to reach stasis. The old adage that, 'conflict causes change'' is the leading reason we are motivated to learn or retract from learning. We are curious, want to conform, mature  or understand, solve a problem or feel an emotion, but all too often we let this drive stall and seek to withdraw. The young of all kinds are  endlessly drawn on, continually curious and want to grow, they are hard wired to learn.

So how great to see my cousin and his wife, despite all the problems and strains choosing to grow, to step out and question the world, make a new life, progress.
What's that other adage, oh yes........If you are not moving forward you are going backwards. And as my cousin said, "Its not me , its everyone else that's moving". Never too late to learn, we've just re-met a couple who are living proof of this.They say,'you can't choose your family, but you can choose your friends', and we are proud to call my Brittany cousins both.
Merci mes amis

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...'