Cedere Nescio
It’s been a more than a month since I’ve been here so far, and I’m staying optimistic about being released Friday, so that is still a goal!
This is another shot of the butterfly garden, where the plants are beginning to fill in. It’s still early days yet so the plants still have to cover the ground, so by the fall it will be more protected. I understand that in the winter and early spring the ground cover stays in place to protect the limited food supply for the pollinators and related insects, so there is dead plant matter that remains until the weather warms up above 10C consistently
I was not out in the garden today, unfortunately. I seem to have started a craze for it, though, as the other women in my ward, and the people in the next 2 rooms have all clamoured to go there, so the nurse was kept busy escorting groups there and back! I was kept to the ward mostly because today was another immensely painful day for me, and each of the escorted groups started just after a new wave of pain began and I couldn’t move. I’m happy that the “new apostles” took the lead getting people out so it’s not me who’s pushing it, but it’s the new “in” spot.
One of my friends pointed out that I seem to be in increased pain when it’s hot and humid. The nurse agreed that it’s likely that I’m responding to the changes in temperature and humidity. It would not be fun to turn into a barometer in an Ottawa summer, whose hallmarks are heat and humidity! But, nil desperandum! There must be ways around that. Since I’m going to need to walk daily, the tiny monster puppy will be very happy to be hauled out to stretch his far-too-long legs, and will forgive me faster for disappearing for over a month. (Good practice for me disappearing for another month in winter when I run off back home, right? ) Yes, I’m grasping at straws. Like Rumpelstiltskin, I’m going to keep trying to spin them into gold, minus his messy ending. Also, Don was able to visit today, in spite of the heat. I was very happy to see him, as the regulations here allow visitors only on weekends. But the biggest excitement was that I got to take a shower by myself!! It feels wonderful to have been washed fully in hot water from head to toe, even if washing my hair is still in the future. So this week’s goals include walking uphill to the butterfly garden and washing and combing my hair. Oh, and walking using only a cane and not using my pain pump. That’s one a day until Thursday…
Several of you have asked about my ability to seek out and emphasize the positive things in my experience even as I’m dealing with severe pain and discomfort. I’d love to pretend that it’s been easy or that I have a magic trick to it. The fact is that 9 years ago when I was first diagnosed, I was terrified and in shock. The first reaction that I got, though, was unconditional support from my family, my work and my friends. When I felt the bottom drop out of my world, everyone around me rallied to provide me with a safety net. That one thing helped stabilize me, so that my focus was only on getting better.
My parents accompanied me to every medical appointment, no matter how painful it was for them. I tried, unsuccessfully, to get them to miss some because I thought they didn’t have to go through all of the various sessions of me being scanned, or having blood drawn. I should have saved my breath. I had two breakdowns in the week leading up to my surgery, where I collapsed into tears and let the stress take over. Everyone was so forgiving that I could face up to what was coming better. My work family- because that’s what they are - simply asked me if I would allow them to deal with the paperwork. I agreed, because I was overwhelmed with everything else, and they smoothly filled in the small mountain that was required, so all I had to do was breathe deeply and sign form after form after form…I understood the magnitude in 2017 when I had to repeat the process without the marvellous ladies who facilitated the process the first time. So that was also painless. My friends spared me their histrionics and just sent along messages of healing and support. There was only one who spent a phone call soaking in tears because they “couldn’t handle” the news and how difficult it was for them to hear. In contrast, the others rallied round with cards, comforting notes and gifts; Paul shared the story of his mother who had also lost a kidney to cancer and survived 17 years at that point. Really, all I had to do was grab with both hands the life-affirmations that were offered and trust that there was still more for me to do.
When the surgery was over and I was in recovery, people continued being kind and supportive. My biggest problem was dealing with the insurance company which did everything in its power to make my life difficult. It was my own fault for using my credit card travel insurance instead of my employer’s out of province coverage. They made it as difficult as possible for me to close the claim, and reinforced my distrust of insurance companies. That was the worst part of my experience. Thankfully it was never repeated. This time, the Canadian medical system leapt into action and managed all details, so all I have to do is heal. On my return to Canada in early 2013, after 2 large surgeries in 2 months, I was referred to the cancer centre in Ottawa where I met the wonderful team that’s been keeping me alive since then. Then I was reintegrated into the OHIP system seamlessly (they even paid part of the care in Trinidad)
Shortly after my return, when I was at home staring into space, I began to journal, the traditional way, in ink on paper. Then I realized that I would become depressed if I went about it without a plan. I read about gratitude journaling, which encourages you to find something, anything, for which to be thankful every day. My early entries were somewhat sparse. I was thankful one day for having a cup of tea. Another day, I was glad for being able to brush my hair. Then I started seeing patterns of the things that made me happy, and I’ve reinforced them. I found that having a touchstone point made it easier to calm myself if I began to feel stressed. Then, too, re-reading the gratitude entries was both calming and inspiring so I’d feel reassured.
So today, I’m not happy with the pain, or the separation from my boys, or the heat and discomfort. I can spend time on that, or be happy that I got a shower, and I dried off with scrubby towels and I saw Don, who is feeling better, and I have my return home in 5 days … I don’t think it’s a difficult choice! Good night everyone. Let’s keep building a better, happier future for everyone that we can also enjoy! 😘😘😘
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