ONE HUNDRED, NOT OUT

100, NOT OUT
"I'm very sorry, Mrs. Jarvis." The consultant shook his head, sadly.
"You have perhaps three months&;#8230;.."
Barbara's legs were trembling, although she was calm inside as she
crossed to the park which overlooked the hospital. She was glad that
she had come here alone today, for it gave her time to think. Sinking
down onto an empty bench, she forced her thoughts to focus on
arithmetics. It was mid-May now, so she had until mid-August. She would
not see the end of the summer. The tears came then and, as she yielded
to their comfort, she knew that she would not cry again. Not for
herself.
She stopped at last and took a shuddering breath. Three months. That
was twelve weeks - or eighty-four days. She liked the sound of
eighty-four days best. She lifted her face to the sunshine. Spring was
late this year and the trees still frothed delightfully with pink and
white blossom. She would never have to see them brown and dripping.
These trees would always remain glorious in her memory because she
wouldn't come to this park again.
Acceptance had come quite easily to her today. Probably because she
had known it already - ever since the first diagnosis ten months ago.
Acceptance would not come so easily to Derek, though. She closed her
eyes, imagining his anguish when she broke the news. For a brief
moment, a wave of cowardice swept over her, and she considered not
telling him. But she knew that she must. There were many things to
arrange and he would need her strength. She thought of his near
self-destruction following the sudden deaths of, first his natural,
then his adoptive parents. He had been totally unprepared for the
psychological havoc, which had nearly driven him into mental illness.
Then she thought of his metamorphosis into the serious, sensitive young
man which he became from the first day she met him. It had been 'love
at first sight,' and she had immediately enveloped him in the stability
of her own, devoted love. Away went the surly, aggressive, layabout who
had been pushed from one foster home to another when his behaviour had
become unacceptable. Barbara's love had penetrated his fragile shell
and had gently warmed the golden core within him until it oozed back
love, generosity and warmth of its own accord. She had made him whole
again and she had thought that nothing could come between
them&;#8230;.. She would have to be careful now, to ensure that
bitterness should not consume all the qualities that her love had
generated.
Eighty-four days! Twice her age in years! She was lucky, really. How
many of the people in this park would die before she did? Unlike she
and Derek, they would be unprepared. A bickering couple passed by her
bench and she shook her head, sadly. They certainly weren't making the
most of every waking moment. But she would. She would start by keeping
a diary. Tomorrow would be Day 1, for she had wasted too much of today
by indulging herself in the luxury of self-pity. Then she rose from the
bench. Time to go home and prepare the evening meal. Time to explain to
her husband.
DIARY
Day 1.
I won't dwell on last night, as it was as unbearable as it could be.
Derek has crumbled, so I must be strong. We didn't go to bed at all -
instead, we sat talking far into the night until exhaustion overtook
him and he fell asleep in my arms in front of the fire.
This morning, I went into the garden to watch the dawn and, I swear,
I've never seen such colours before! Crimson, to salmon, then to
strawberry, then orange, to
3 apricot - then finally to gold. I have looked at the morning sky
before but I have never noticed the colours changing so vividly! I told
Derek about it when he woke up and it made him cry. I have told him
that it's OK to cry, especially about beautiful things.
This afternoon I told my parents. They had to know because they will
have to look after Derek. They will have each other - but Derek will
have nobody. I have explained to them that they must let him talk about
me and that they mustn't let him bottle up his emotions. They love him
as though he was their own son and I know I can depend on them. They
were strong today - but they will have crumbled after I left.
Then I called in to see my friend, Amanda. I couldn't bring myself to
tell her my news . I love Amanda dearly, but I don't like the way her
children behave. They are spoilt and demanding and, until today, I have
always indulged their naughtiness. But this afternoon, when they threw
down the sweets I had brought them, I called them 'a pair of ungrateful
little sods ' (to Amanda's horror,) and said that they wouldn't receive
the ?1 each, which I had planned to give them . That made them cry, but
I didn't weaken. I have made a list of things to do in eighty-four days
- and one of them is to teach Amanda's children some manners.
Day 10
Today it rained. I took off all my clothes and went outside, naked,
into our (hopefully) secluded back garden. Derek laughed and asked if I
was drunk. I told him that I was! But I hadn't had any alcohol. The
feel of the rain on my body was uniquely refreshing and I felt so clean
that I may not bother with the bathroom shower again!
Derek went back to work this afternoon. It's a relief to watch him
begin to return to some kind of normality. I am so proud of his
strength. When he had gone, I sat down at my dining-room table which
looks out onto the garden and I wrote him a long 4 letter. Then I hid
it in the bottom of the wardrobe. He'll find it one day and I hope that
it may help him.
Day 42.
I still feel so well that it's impossible to believe that I'm not! I'm
also half way through my life 'PP,' (Post Prognosis.) I am beginning to
panic a little, because I'm not half way through my list.
I crossed out Number 47 today, though, when I passed my driving test.
That will make many of the other things so much easier to
accomplish.
Day 49.
July already! Today I sorted out lots of clothes and bric-a-brac. I
then drove it all to the Cancer Research charity shop in town. On the
way home, I called in at The Pet Rescue Centre with some cans of
pet-food. I have pledged twenty cans a week. It's all we can afford now
that I'm not working any longer. The sight of all those abandoned
animals made me so very sad.
This afternoon the sky was the most magnificent blue I have ever seen!
I have a dress in that exact same shade, so I feel sure that the fabric
designer must have been inspired by a hot summer day like today. How
lucky he or she is to have been able to see such beauty just because
it's there - and not because they haven't got long to appreciate it. I
have put a little sticker on the coat-hanger. 'For Mum.' It will
complement her lovely eyes.
The foliage in the garden is a lovely, rich green. Whoever said, 'Blue
and green should never be seen' obviously didn't own a garden.

5 Day 76. I have eight days left, by my reckoning - and the items on
my list are almost all crossed out! Number 93 is hanging on our bedroom
wall now. It is a picture of my dead grandparents which I have finally
managed to frame. They will watch over Derek every night . I'm looking
forward to seeing them again Day 84. Well, this should be it! But I
feel quite well - there are no warning signs at all. It's a good job,
really, because it means that I can do Number 100 on my list.
I sit in the dining-room to do it, so that I can look out and see the
colours. And you should see them today! It's such a perfect day to be
alive. I am aware of every breath I take and I can feel every beat of
my heart. I am sensitive to everything that touches me - even the cool
smoothness of the pen between my fingers. Each object in the room and
plant in the garden is a visual pleasure to me. My long hair is
tickling my arm as I write and I want to giggle with pleasure!
I have cheated death today and I wanted to write down how that feels!
That was Number 100. There are still five things left.
Day 100.
I managed to walk into the garden again today and it seemed even more
lovely than usual. A light breeze rippled my silk night-dress and, as I
caught sight of my reflection in the French-window, I saw that the
sunlight was playing on the fabric, so that it rippled like a flowing,
shimmering stream over my body. I am too thin - and not even remotely
pretty - but today I thought I looked beautiful. Happiness makes us all
beautiful because it is, like the sun, a bright light which enhances
the colours of our character, displaying them to their best advantage.
This morning, my colours
6 radiated from my body. I saw their light in the French-window. Even
when I moved away, their reflection lingered.
When I die, I know that my colours will remain in this garden and that
Derek will be able to look out and see them and enjoy them. It is now
the end of my hundredth day and I still have strength. My light will
never burn out and I know that I shall wake up - not only tomorrow -
but for ever.
END.