“To get up each morning with the resolve to be happy... is to set our own conditions to the events of each day. To do this is to condition circumstances instead of being conditioned by them.” Written by a Cancer Survivor
Walk with me as I share a chronological account of medical facts down memory lane..
With every change of season, I had the usual sinus sniffles, sneezes and hayfever. Then came recurrent ear and sinus infections. So what right? 60% of Cape Town's population suffer from these common ailments. But to link these to cancer? A term which meant very little to me. A term used for "other people" people who get sick, not healthy young people like me.
Then I was a mother of two girls aged 10 and 6 and pregnant with another daughter. My pregnancy was easy and without any complications except for these really bad recurrent sinus and ear infections. Sleeping at night was impossible as any position I chose to sleep created more pain, sinus pain or so I thought.
Then one night, I had a severe attack, a headache so bad that my worst migraine experience paled in comparison. I think then I knew somehow that there was something more to this.
I had a brilliant ENT who insisted that I have an MRI after the pregnancy, to look more closer at my sinus infection problem. Very reluctantly I agreed to have the MRI, two weeks after the birth of my daughter.
February 13th 2008 - I have an MRI scan.
February 14th 2008 - My ENT calls and asks to see both me and my husband. What a valentines day present!
February 15th 2008 - we are given the news of a growth or tumour. My ENT was as shocked as we were. This is just a growth right? People get them all the time.
February 23rd 2008 - I am booked for a biopsy. I am given a general aneasthetic and a tube is inserted through my nose to get a a sample, a specimen for further testing. I am home same day and I am groggy for the next two days, with constant nose bleeds.
February 27th 2008 - 5:30pm - I receive the news of my malignant tumour. So thats like cancer right.
February 28th 2008 - I see a professor for further prognosis
March 2 - I see an oncologist - I am told I have a rare and incurable tumour. The prognosis is really poor and I have to wait for specialists to look at what can be done.
March 10 - A team of Dr's decide on Neutron Radiation
April to July - I have radiation
August - An MRI shows that the tumour has shrunk
January 2009 An MRI shows significant growth. I am told there is nothing more that they can do. That this is it. They give up medically!
May 2009 - I ask for agressive chemotherapy even though there is a 5% chance of any change
April - July 2009 - I undergo aggressive chemo therapy
September 2009 - An MRI shows no change
October 2009 - Brain Surgery
December 2009 - An MRI shows Some reduction
January 2010 - still it grows
February 2010 - Tumours on my lungs
And yet I stand strong, resolved in acceptance but armed in war the war against cancer.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Time
Dr's say my time is limited. I have a rare an incurable disease one they know very little about. All attempts at curing it has proved futile. And now they say we wait. There is nothing further we can do.
I draw the curtains and I let the darkness surround me enveloping me, curling up under a warm duvet for even though it is summer outside, it is winter in here. And even the feathers of the duvet cant provide warmth or comfort from the cold.
I try to cry but my tearducts wont cooperate. I feel like the rain of a winter that has not yet come is soaking my clothes, drenching my face, drowning my soul.
Courage, hope, positivity? what is that? it sounds like a cliche from a book someone wrote who has never been challenged, not like this.
I have lost my health and am slowly loosing my hope. For what is hope this word we seek when the darkness envelopes us. Is it that bit of sun streaming through the slits of the blinds, is it that part of our soul that wont let us crawl further under the duvet, or does this word hope paralyze us.
Does the thought that it all may not be so bad, not conjure up images that it could be okay. Does that thought not strike more fear than the acceptance that it is really so bad. Does that thought not make one then understand the meaning of hope and not be so paralyzed by it?
And like the tide at sea my Imaan begins to ebb and flow between the belief that it may get better to the acceptance that it may not. A friend once told me "we only have as long as we are allowed" So no sooner, so no later will my time be than what has been allowed for me.
But yet I remain enveloped by the darkness not wanting the sun to stream in. Not yet...
I draw the curtains and I let the darkness surround me enveloping me, curling up under a warm duvet for even though it is summer outside, it is winter in here. And even the feathers of the duvet cant provide warmth or comfort from the cold.
I try to cry but my tearducts wont cooperate. I feel like the rain of a winter that has not yet come is soaking my clothes, drenching my face, drowning my soul.
Courage, hope, positivity? what is that? it sounds like a cliche from a book someone wrote who has never been challenged, not like this.
I have lost my health and am slowly loosing my hope. For what is hope this word we seek when the darkness envelopes us. Is it that bit of sun streaming through the slits of the blinds, is it that part of our soul that wont let us crawl further under the duvet, or does this word hope paralyze us.
Does the thought that it all may not be so bad, not conjure up images that it could be okay. Does that thought not strike more fear than the acceptance that it is really so bad. Does that thought not make one then understand the meaning of hope and not be so paralyzed by it?
And like the tide at sea my Imaan begins to ebb and flow between the belief that it may get better to the acceptance that it may not. A friend once told me "we only have as long as we are allowed" So no sooner, so no later will my time be than what has been allowed for me.
But yet I remain enveloped by the darkness not wanting the sun to stream in. Not yet...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
