Reality Check

I had a reality check yesterday, a very timely one. I’ve lost count of the number of obvious statements I’ve made on little blog but here comes a corker - I am not doing all of this for fun, my Doctors and the people I love are not just insisting I do this, so I have more fodder for the my writing. While I don’t want to over state it, this has to happen because if it comes back, I may not get so lucky and that’s important to remember, the serious, not to be messed with, point to all this.

I’ve been I bit complain-y the last few days, confronted by everything that’s going to change, feeling out of control. Basically feeling sorry for myself and forgetting the Bigger Picture because Doctors don’t like to dwell on the Bigger Picture and that sometimes makes me forget it. 

Don’t get me wrong, you could slap me with a kipper and call me Tuesday, I’d still be more gobsmacked by just how far reaching a Cancer diagnoses is. I’ve also, as I mentioned to Dad yesterday, not been able to find one actual fun part of that diagnoses. To qualify that, I’ve made some most excellent memories lately, I’ve felt very loved, laughed a lot and (I know I bang on about this) am incredibly lucky but in terms of actual diagnoses and treatment - slim to none in the enjoyable department.

So, in the face of the next 4 months, it is easy to get and hard to shake a vicious case of the “Why ME’S?!”. There are times when trying to tackle that unanswerable (e.g don’t go down that rabbit hole) question, when I get what A. likes to call a ‘vacant worry face’ - basically I stare of in to the middle distance and my lower lip twitches, it is deeply, deeply attractive. 

Anyway, yesterday I had a rare moment of clarity. For me, it’s that feeling you get when you’ve hiked up a massive hill, it’s been tough, it’s hot and dusty, you’ve forgotten why you’re doing it and you’ve drunk all your water. There’s sweat sticking your shirt to your back and you’ve probably banged up your knee and you’ve got a grazed palm from where you’ve slipped a bit - it’s throbbing.

But then you’re up there, you look behind and see just how far you’ve come. It’s shocking because you still don’t remember why you started it and it seems such a long way, for no real reason. That fresh blast of air hits you, raises those hairs on the back of your neck, soothes that throbbing hand and cools the sweat. You reach in your pocket and yes, there’s a Mars Bar (no longer recommended). You look out, munching - neither behind and or in front - but straight ahead, the view is incredible, it’s so silent and so still - it’s a tiny moment of peace with everything. 

Of course, you know, if you turn your head, you going to see six more peaks to climb, with six more troughs to go with them. They’re ahead of you, in your way, no crafty short-cut but a moment of clarity is all it takes some days.

We are doing this, I am doing this, because I only want to do it once. I don’t want the white noise of being told the un-hearable, I could do without telling my loved ones again, without tests and needles and operations. I doing this so I can do this once. Then we move on. You hear me Universe? THEN WE MOVE, THE FUCK, ON.