Bee's Journey - (the last leg)
By Bee
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We take it for granted that to make a journey is to travel from A to B, but it's not always as simple as that. There are often so many stops and starts along the way, hazards and jams; diversions off the beaten, and back on track, with the odd sight-seeing stop, coffee breaks, etc. and overnight stays along the way. But perhaps our real journey starts at A and ends at Zee - that's life.
If a journey starts at A, which would be our birth, and ends at Z - death, then no one would be capable of writing an autobiography from start to finish because none of us really knows when we'll draw that last breath. Guess we could get pretty close, but maybe not to the end.
I was kindly given space here to share a journey, one, in many ways, like any other, filled with pits and hazards, hopes and uncertainty. But if my real voyage / story started at A, with my birth, and will end at Z, then this is only a section, say from K to M, though with the uncertainty factor, those last stops could have run through to Z at the rate of sand through fingers without my say so - still could. Nothing is certain. For any of us.
Now, having negotiated the pitfalls and faced the hazards, I'm almost at M, and Z is not quite in sight. It's been a hell of a ride, but I didn't travel alone, I had company and when I broke down along the way, the camaraderie kept pushing me on. I was jump started on laughter, towed through tears, carried on wings of prayers, and if I tripped, my hand was grabbed and held till I was hauled back on my feet. I have felt truly blessed with friends along the way, and sad, because one of my best, died en route. Of cancer.
So what of the rest of the ride? Who knows? This section is almost concluded, but the journey continues. Meanwhile, great news - the tumour was cut out of my life, and the lymph nodes - 20 in all, 9 of which still contained active cancer, were removed. Radiotherapy, it was hoped, would have blasted the rest where they couldn't take more tissue from the chest wall, and that should have been it. Success? Limited, maybe. The last letter I received from my oncologist told me not to consider the matter over after the radiotherapy - finishing with the ominous words, 'just so Deborah is aware of this.' Was I aware? Well, yes, and no, but reading those words disappointed me a tad. Before my op, it was all - so great, you're nearly there - yaay!!! They didn't say where, but left the impression that treatment would be over. Then after the op it's like, yeah, well the chemo hasn't worked as much as they'd thought, with 10% effectiveness. John said, Wow, 10%, that's good???' And I'm like, ok, but if I just took an exam and got that as a result, no one is going to congratulate me with, 'Wow, you got 10%, that's so great!' So at that point, I'm thinking, let's hope the radiotherapy is all it's zapped up to be. It ain't over till the fat lady sings, n She ain't even opened my gob...
At my post op appointment, I asked my breast care nurse, Ann-Marie, about further checks - scans, etc. and she said she was glad I asked that because with having had both breasts removed, there's nothing to check. I just have to watch carefully, and report back promptly if I notice changes such as a lump on the chest wall, or in the armpit, or because my cancer is inflammatory, for any signs of inflammation. Regarding body scans, they don't like to do those at this stage, unless there are symptoms because, she said, if say, they found a small tumour on your liver, it might not cause symptoms for another nine months, and all scanning would do for you, the patient, would be to let them know they had cancer for an extra nine months before they needed to worry. She said the other thing to look out for was pain in a bone, that wouldn't go away - leg, rib... then they would do a bone scan, or loss of balance, a brain scan - but not routinely.
It's a terrible shock when you find out you, or a loved one has cancer, but it's not the end of the story. People survive, and amazingly, many just live with it for years. And that's it - while we are here, we're still living. Ann-Marie said that although it's vital to notice signs as they occur, it's also important not to get obsessed with worry and to enjoy each day we are free of this clever and insidious disease - for as long as we can. When I said to her that for my type of cancer, the prognosis isn't great - I've been told it usually comes back in around one to two years, and she said, honestly, 'Yes, yours is a tricky one, but don't forget, for some, it doesn't come back, and they could have years ahead of them. There's no reason to believe at this stage, that you're not one of them.' I always hoped I would be because I really didn't want to do chemo again.
I was almost into the last leg of this particular trek - radiotherapy, all that's left to worry about, they told me, was to get over the side effects, which would be soreness and swelling (and not to get lymphedema) along with fatigue. I could get over that, just like I got over the surgery. I thought I could probably just keep using it as an excuse to stop in bed a bit longer. John said he was hoping that once I was radioactive, he could use me to save on electricity bills. He thought I might even be able to light the house, and possibly power the TV. I gave it it a go for the few days I was on it, but I'm afraid he was disappointed in the end, bless him.
My gratitude to everyone who has followed me, and stuck with it, reading the highs and lows, and for putting up with my whinging. You couldn't possibly know what your company has meant to me. It's a journey that even though I didn't realize it at the start, wouldn't have an immediate end. Even the cancer thing - looked like I may have had to pick up that route from time to time as I made my way from M to Z, but last week I had a brain scan. Not such good news, I'm afraid, but this has been my Journey. Thank you so much for reading.
Love
Bee xxx
For notes -
With special thanks to Claudine (insertponsyfrenchnamehere) for all her support, fantastic photos, and for posting all my stories and poems on Facebook. x
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Comments
As usual, your thoughtful,
As usual, your thoughtful, but honest openness clears the way somewhat for others to have some understanding and appreciation not only of your journey, but for others they know or themselves. I pray you'll know God's blessing in these days, and joy. Rhiannon
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Thank you Bee, for sharing it
Thank you Bee, for sharing it with us (and many other people in the future). It is a privilege to read - and I'm so glad you're well enough now to write some more.
ps - you've been on Twitter too!
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It's wonderful how you keep
It's wonderful how you keep the humour going, and there's so much depth to it. Thank you for taking us along, your insights have been more than helpful. You are a wonder. :) xx
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I'm so pleased to see that
I'm so pleased to see that you're writing. Journeys are not linear, there is so much toing and froing. Maps are useless, chuck out the sat navs, crawl where there isn't standing room, run where one can, see the sights - no, really - and follow your heart. Thank you for filling mine.
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Good luck Deb
I'm with you up to M, I just hope your journey to Z is long and runs at a snail's pace.
I think about you every day.
Love
Keith x
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No one could ever say that
No one could ever say that any of your writing was 'whinging' always written in an insightful and informative way with not a sign of self pity. Thank you for the smiles, and the tears both showing what a great writer you are.
Take care
Lindy
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Reading this piece Bee, I'm
Reading this piece Bee, I'm sure it will help others in the same situation. Never giving up hope is so important, I hope I can be half as brave as you.
Your humour shines through too considering what you've been through. I smiled at your conversation with John about being radio active and him talking about saving on the electric bill. The laughing and smiling and keeping the humour going has to be one of the most important things in your life now...long may it continue.
Thinking of you.
Jenny.
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I've been dipping in and out,
I've been dipping in and out, if I'm honest, Bee. Your generosity shines through in everything I've ever read, before and during this journey, including PMs. What a lovely person you are. It's time to send back some of the encouragement you've given me. All I can offer are my wishes and will you on one day after the next, and the next. Lots of love. X
Parson Thru
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Hello Bee
Hello Bee
You didn't whinge - you wrote a story people wanted to read. Lots of people are thinking of you.
Christine
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Hi Bee
Hi Bee
I'm so pleased that you are well enough to write all these things down, and I expect in a way, writing is a form of therapy for you too. You made your experience into a guide for others to read and consider as they go down a similar route - full of hope and courage.
Jean
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Bee, if I had just one
Bee, if I had just one-quarter of your courage, one-quarter of your ability to express yourself, one-quarter of your kindness and one-quarter of your generosity I would think myself a bleeding saint. You are an inspiration to the rest of us but I'd much rather you weren't. I would rather you weren't so courageous,talented, kind and generous but living your life without the pain and suffering you have endured. I'm not religious but I have started praying for you, Bee.
Always in my thoughts
Moya xx
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Not whingeing - generously
Not whingeing - generously offering your experience, wit and wisdom to others. Some of your pieces have made me laugh out loud, some of them have made me cry, and a lot of them made me do both at once. Thank you.
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Picture Credit: http:/
Picture Credit: http://tinyurl.com/hzctzla
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we don't order our life with
we don't order our life with the alpahbet, but with the love we show and that way we grow, and I guess that's the only way to go. In our journey if we find life to create, you've worn a path we call fate. No need to thank us for what little we've done. You are the one that needs to see it through with humour and humility you've lifted us up to a place we don't deserve to be. Angelo, the messanger, you wear your wings well, telling us of your personal hell. Life shoudn't be this way, but what can we do? Live well. Live another day.
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God bless, Bee. I don't know
God bless, Bee. I don't know too much about life, I have not lived long. But I do know that sometimes we meet people along the way who brighten the journey,even if we have no idea who they are.
Like you.
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Brilliant
Susan Sontag also had cancer. Your piece is brilliant as usual. Your writing is so refined and honed unlike mine.
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