Today I went for the last of my tests checking for secondary cancer before having my operation. I was feeling very anxious during the trip over to the 'not-so-local' hospital, (I told you they'd be sick of the sight of me).
The clouds were gray, my husband seemed grumpy about everything, and I was remembering back to exactly twelve years ago when a dear friend and neighbour lost her fight with cancer. The panic, the emergency vehicles, the stunned disbelief, the grief.
My tummy was grumbling loudly, (scans demanded a starving victim), and I started to feel quite 'wobbly'. "What if...", my head kept saying.
I looked at the view out of the windows, fields and chalk cliffs in one direction, sea, boats and houses in the other.
I looked at a little book that I have hanging on my backpack, a gift from a friend who wants to be able to lift me up during my wobbly moments, even if she can't be there in person to do it. TW has titled it J's Little Book Of Thoughts. Bright colours and cheerful ribbons adorn it. It's full of positive thinking quotes. I thought of TW. I thought of my friend and neighbour, of how she fought every day and didn't seem to let any of her pain get in the way. The day before she died she took our daughters to Butlins for the day. That's what they remember, even now.
I don't have any pain.
I thought of the daughter she'd had to leave, of how that daughter is now a vibrant, fun loving and beautiful mother herself, a reflection of my friend.
I looked out and saw sunshine on a town in the distance.
The wobbles got smaller.
I looked at my husband, quiet instead of grumpy, intent on watching the road. He's worried I thought, not grumpy. A smile crept into the corners of my mouth.
At the hospital's x-ray and ultrasound department I was introduced to The Doctor. Sadly not 'THE' doctor, but a thoughtful man who reassured me that he'd tell me if he found anything as he scanned. He found gall stones, lots of them, but tiny and I already knew about them. He said my liver's a bit fatty. So's the rest of me I thought happily. The wobbles evaporated.
Nothing else, nothing but ultrasound jelly to wipe off my skin.
Not even David Tennant himself could have topped that:))))))))))))))))
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Super news Luna.
ReplyDeleteSo much of what you said in your post resonated with me. The positivity was so much how Lynsey spent her time fighting her cancer. And most importatnly its what EVERYONE that knew her remembers her for.
Keep positive...live TODAY only...live in the NOW...there is a fab book I'm reading called 'The power of NOW'... it stresses that all we ever know and experience is the NOW....the past is a memory and the future is nothing yet, so why worry about it...??
I'm sending you lots of love and light and if its ok with you, I will add you to my Rieki healing box XX
p.s. thanks for your comments re my blog. :-)))
P.P.S I have had a freckle in my right eye for years... will definatley keep 'an eye' on it..terrible joke...sorry. x
So glad its all ok but knew it would be. Better start packing your nighties now : )
ReplyDelete*Blushes* better rush out and get some I suppose! Thanks Kate;)
ReplyDeleteNigel, Thanks for the lovely comments,I'm touched. And yes, please do add me to your reiki healing box. Your joke's no worse than the ones that have been flying round here...you should have seen Bear's face when I replied after she'd me to keep an eye on her lunch;))
Hey Lunar.
ReplyDeleteLet's hope the op date doesn't need as much chasing as the scans have done. To think that the London specialist wanted to have it all done and dusted by now.
Will be thinking of you next week whilst I'm sunning myself in Nottingham. Glamorous holiday destination, eh?
LisaB
Hey Lisa, have a fabulous time and don't knock it, it's a holiday;) Have you eaten all that choc yet?!
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