AOK

It is a chilly, sparkling Saturday morning here, I got up just after sunrise and have been sitting here sipping coffe and contemplating my future. Yesterday after the colonoscopy when the doctor came into recovery, with patient folders under his arm, looking relaxed, I knew. It was the same doctor who, a year ago, gave me the news that I had cancer. He was smiling and said , everything looks good, it's all clear, I will see you in 12 months.

So here I am thinking about seeing my grandkids grow up and hoping I get to dance at their weddings. When I think about all that I have been through and where I am now and I ask myself , was it worth all I went through, and the answer is YES! I have always said that if I had a recurrance of cancer I don't think I would do chemo again, but from where I am now, I finally get it. I finally understand that clinging to life, doing whatever it takes to see one more sunrise.

The view from my kitchen balcony.

Unexpected Rollercoaster

Even though the oncologist told me it would take months to recover my energy after the chemo, I think I had actually expected my life to jump back to normal, like a rubber band when the tension is released. There are periods of real energy now, even feelings of exhileration and joy at being alive, but that's mainly in the mornings. By mid afternoon I am trying to stop myself from lying down and having a rest. Some days I am so tired by dinner time it is a bit depressing, but most days are pretty normal.
What took me by surprise was the overwhelming rush of emotion after my final appointment with the surgeon. I had been holding it all together for the last year, through the diagnosis, the surgery, the bungled porta-cath operation and the chemo. The appointment with the surgeon was a mere formality, we drove to Westmead for him to check the scar from the operation and for him ask how I was. He told me that the operation was a success and he didn't expect to see me again. I thanked him and left. Bubbles of some strange emotion began to float to the surface, I still don't have a name for the feeling. A strange mixture of relief and apprehension, simultaneously feeling belief in the success of the operation and chemo and an unexpected fear. It was a sudden realisation that I can't really leave this all behind me, there will always be the fear that this could return, that I might have to go through that last year again. It was an echo of that day I left the hospital after the operation, the same mixture of relief and fear and I cried for ages, not able to stop and not understanding this feeling that felt like grief but I didnt know why.
Over the next few weeks as my energy returned, that complicted mix of feelings was pushed to the very back of my mind. I started back at the gym, and going for walks by the harbour, started going to movies and plays and enjoying my beautiuful grandkids, until the last few days. I am going for a colonoscopy tomorrow and all the weirdness of feelings is back.