1996 proved to be an interesting year for me. It was then that my perception of reality took on a life of its own.
I struggled to get up in the morning and dress myself. Choosing an outfit to wear was too much to think about and then there was still the rest of the day..... Add to that two young children and you get the picture. My hair, usually my pride and joy would not be washed for days and the little weight that covered my bones whittled away until I weighed a mere 42kgs.
I was in a very dark place and the only way out of it was to embark on a dreadful but necessary journey called 'therapy'.
Therapy is very much like a triathlon, bungee jumping and the 'Amazing Race' rolled into one where one's defences are stripped bare and strength and courage are the only forces urging you on. The only difference in this situation is that it all happens in one's mind and there are only 2 participants. You and the therapist.
Well, clearly, I survived it all and made it to the finishing line, a happier, less rigid and more empathetic individual which reminds me of something I heard on 'Desperate Housewives' the other day and it pertains to stripping of various kinds:
"The act itself is quite simple. You strip away the outer layer and reveal what's underneath of course. Sometimes the results can be quite surprising:
If you strip away the veneer of happy domesticity, you may find grief.
If you strip away the facade of wealth, you may find self- loathing.
If you strip away the veil of helplessness, you may find cruelty.
Yes, stripping can be a dangerous pastime but for the lucky few, it can also be, a lot of fun".
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Gratitude
21 September 2009
On April 29 2009 I heard the words no woman wants to hear... "I am sorry but you have breast cancer which has metastased in your spine". I felt completely numb and my first reaction was: thats it - my life has ended. It was, however, at that point, when the kindness began. Not being on a medical aid, the Neurosurgeon with whom I had consulted, arranged for a huge discount on my MRI scan.
I was then referred to Baragwanath hospital for surgery and treatment. Upon reaching casualty, found it to be too chaotic and I refused to wait to be admitted.
My next angel came in the form of my cousin, Michelle, who used her contact (a Professor) and sheer perseverence to get a doctor at the Steve Biko hospital to see me.
I was admitted on 7 May 2009 and the radiation, drips, scans and sonars began.
No story is complete without the support of family. My mom and sister Lorraine flew out from Canada to be with me. Lorraine, in particular, flew out at very short notice leaving her family to fend for themselves. My other sister Lynne, flew up from the Cape, courtesy of her daughter Leah in America. Other people who were most supportive were Aunty May, Marianne, Douglas, Adi, Kim, Natalie and of course my precious children.
Nicole took time off work, cooked meals for her brothers (and me), fetched and carried and gave my sisters a place to stay.
Kieran, although being in his first year of study at UNISA and writing exams, ran the home as if he had been doing it forever.
Jared stepped up to the plate and contributed towards the smooth running of the home, all the while ensuring that his school grades remained at a high standard.
The power of love and support is immeasurable and I am deeply humbled and grateful to each person mentioned here for the role they have played in my life. If you are reading this, and are one of them please know that you are special and loved and I would not be here right now without you.
XxXxXx
On April 29 2009 I heard the words no woman wants to hear... "I am sorry but you have breast cancer which has metastased in your spine". I felt completely numb and my first reaction was: thats it - my life has ended. It was, however, at that point, when the kindness began. Not being on a medical aid, the Neurosurgeon with whom I had consulted, arranged for a huge discount on my MRI scan.
I was then referred to Baragwanath hospital for surgery and treatment. Upon reaching casualty, found it to be too chaotic and I refused to wait to be admitted.
My next angel came in the form of my cousin, Michelle, who used her contact (a Professor) and sheer perseverence to get a doctor at the Steve Biko hospital to see me.
I was admitted on 7 May 2009 and the radiation, drips, scans and sonars began.
No story is complete without the support of family. My mom and sister Lorraine flew out from Canada to be with me. Lorraine, in particular, flew out at very short notice leaving her family to fend for themselves. My other sister Lynne, flew up from the Cape, courtesy of her daughter Leah in America. Other people who were most supportive were Aunty May, Marianne, Douglas, Adi, Kim, Natalie and of course my precious children.
Nicole took time off work, cooked meals for her brothers (and me), fetched and carried and gave my sisters a place to stay.
Kieran, although being in his first year of study at UNISA and writing exams, ran the home as if he had been doing it forever.
Jared stepped up to the plate and contributed towards the smooth running of the home, all the while ensuring that his school grades remained at a high standard.
The power of love and support is immeasurable and I am deeply humbled and grateful to each person mentioned here for the role they have played in my life. If you are reading this, and are one of them please know that you are special and loved and I would not be here right now without you.
XxXxXx
Friday, May 14, 2010
My Bone Scan
I was recently booked for a bone scan by my doctor in the Oncology Unit. The section of the hospital that one visits to undergo the procedure is called 'Nuclear Medicine'. The very name sounds as if one should be miles away from there never mind entering the doors!
I was quite happy when I heard that I did not have to undress and don one of those fashion disaster gowns that flap open at the back. This is great I thought.
I lay down on the concave bed, head facing the door. The Radiologist explained what would take place; the procedure would take about 20 minutes, the machine would move and come very close to my face but it would not touch me. She then placed a velcro strap around my ankles. "You must lie very still throughout the process" she said. Still okay I thought...
She then went to a computer to the left of me and began inputting data (I could see her out of the corner of my eye). Once this task was complete she then disappeared from my view. This is when my nervousness set in.
The fully automated machine began its job. The room was quiet apart from clicking and moving sounds emitted by the equipment. Things were going well, UNTIL I heard what I thought, was someone opening the door behind me.
My first instinct was to look behind me - but I had been told not to move. Newspaper headlines suddenly flashed through my head: 'Woman attacked in Pretoria hospital'. What was I to do? I am no Caster Semenya, I was sandwiched between a machine, my ankles were tied and any form of injury would more than likely result in broken bones for me.
It took every bit of my resolve to remain still on that bed while my wonderful imagination went on a superjet journey of its own. Slowly, I managed to calm myself down and remain still.
Needless to say, noone had entered the room but, it was the scariest scan I have endured and for all the wrong reasons.
I was quite happy when I heard that I did not have to undress and don one of those fashion disaster gowns that flap open at the back. This is great I thought.
I lay down on the concave bed, head facing the door. The Radiologist explained what would take place; the procedure would take about 20 minutes, the machine would move and come very close to my face but it would not touch me. She then placed a velcro strap around my ankles. "You must lie very still throughout the process" she said. Still okay I thought...
She then went to a computer to the left of me and began inputting data (I could see her out of the corner of my eye). Once this task was complete she then disappeared from my view. This is when my nervousness set in.
The fully automated machine began its job. The room was quiet apart from clicking and moving sounds emitted by the equipment. Things were going well, UNTIL I heard what I thought, was someone opening the door behind me.
My first instinct was to look behind me - but I had been told not to move. Newspaper headlines suddenly flashed through my head: 'Woman attacked in Pretoria hospital'. What was I to do? I am no Caster Semenya, I was sandwiched between a machine, my ankles were tied and any form of injury would more than likely result in broken bones for me.
It took every bit of my resolve to remain still on that bed while my wonderful imagination went on a superjet journey of its own. Slowly, I managed to calm myself down and remain still.
Needless to say, noone had entered the room but, it was the scariest scan I have endured and for all the wrong reasons.
Who knew?
Almost 17 years ago my youngest son was born. The timing was bad to say the least; Nicole was in matric, Kieran aged 3 kept me on my toes with his gluten and wheat allergies and life in general just felt as though it was too much for me.
When Jared was two Years of age it was diagnosed that his speech development was delayed as a result of chronic Rhinitus and many middle ear infections.
His tonsils and adenoids were removed and grommets were placed in both ears. Speech therapy then commenced. This was a battle in itself as Jared had become quite ingenious and accustomed to acquiring things without saying a WORD. All it took were sounds and gestures and he would get just what he needed. It was now up to me to break the pattern.....
The night before last, Jared was chosen to present a speech titled "The best thing since sliced bread" at his school's first public speaking event. Being bedridden I could not attend the function and waited anxiously at home like a hen on eggs wondering how he would fare.
Imagine my surprise and joy when Jared later walked in the front door proudly displaying a trophy for the 'Best speaker in his grade' and a gold certificate!
Life could not be sweeter for me right now.
When Jared was two Years of age it was diagnosed that his speech development was delayed as a result of chronic Rhinitus and many middle ear infections.
His tonsils and adenoids were removed and grommets were placed in both ears. Speech therapy then commenced. This was a battle in itself as Jared had become quite ingenious and accustomed to acquiring things without saying a WORD. All it took were sounds and gestures and he would get just what he needed. It was now up to me to break the pattern.....
The night before last, Jared was chosen to present a speech titled "The best thing since sliced bread" at his school's first public speaking event. Being bedridden I could not attend the function and waited anxiously at home like a hen on eggs wondering how he would fare.
Imagine my surprise and joy when Jared later walked in the front door proudly displaying a trophy for the 'Best speaker in his grade' and a gold certificate!
Life could not be sweeter for me right now.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Fruit Smörgåsbord
I was fortunate enough to be a child of the 60's. Forget about free love, drugs or Woodstock - I am referring to free fruit!
My family rented a house in a lower middle class suburb where the streets had an open, friendly feel. The walls seperating each home were either very low or non-existant. The streets were busy with children cycling, playing ball games or simply running chores.
One daily chore would be to walk to the corner cafe to buy a freshly baked hot loaf of bread. It was during these strolls that one came to know the location of every fruit tree on the block. The choice was delightful; peaches, apricots, cherries, figs and even prickly pears. The only worry one had was that someone else would get to a piece of fruit that you had been eyeing for the past week or two waiting for it to ripen.
Global warming was unknown. The weather patterns were constant and the fruit was plentiful and pesticide free.
Today fruit trees have been relegated to orchards and the fruit itself to supermarket shelves. Gardens are landscaped, aesthetically pleasing and the trees are sculpted.
There is a lot to be said for the 60's , climbing up into the dark branches of an old apricot tree and quietly savouring its fruit.
My family rented a house in a lower middle class suburb where the streets had an open, friendly feel. The walls seperating each home were either very low or non-existant. The streets were busy with children cycling, playing ball games or simply running chores.
One daily chore would be to walk to the corner cafe to buy a freshly baked hot loaf of bread. It was during these strolls that one came to know the location of every fruit tree on the block. The choice was delightful; peaches, apricots, cherries, figs and even prickly pears. The only worry one had was that someone else would get to a piece of fruit that you had been eyeing for the past week or two waiting for it to ripen.
Global warming was unknown. The weather patterns were constant and the fruit was plentiful and pesticide free.
Today fruit trees have been relegated to orchards and the fruit itself to supermarket shelves. Gardens are landscaped, aesthetically pleasing and the trees are sculpted.
There is a lot to be said for the 60's , climbing up into the dark branches of an old apricot tree and quietly savouring its fruit.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Prisms
I have always loved prisms, crystals and lights ever since I saw the movie "PollyAnna" as a child.
Many of you may never have seen the movie but today prisms still enchant me as much as they did then.
How does a prism work? Basically light passes through the glass, slows down and then leaves the glass again at a faster speed. The light, depending on whether it reaches the glass head on or at an angle, will result in the light being refracted and/or reflected.
People have played the part of light in my life and the principles mentioned above have been clearly demonstrated to me.
Some lights have been ever present, always encouraging and bringing out the the best in me to present to the world.
With others, the light has been refracted, insidious and almost elusive but still enough to elicit another hue to my personality spectrum.
Lastly there have been those brilliant rays of light on the darkest of days, from the least expected sources.
These are what have kept my prism dancing.
I wonder what my colours will reflect today.........
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