Summer has come. The gentle breezes, the soft scents, the torrential rain.
Vancouver can be a bit unpredictable in June, weather wise. I went to the Solstice party I always attend. This year we had no bon fire. It was raining. So we curled up inside and I drank some of the best mead I have ever tasted. Now I am of the mind to make some of my own for the winter solstice.
I was thinking of summers past today. Lazy days on the beach with friend playing in the water. I haven’t had my toes kissed by the surf yet this year. It may have to wait until I get through the surgery, but it will happen.
I met with the anistigiologist last Thursday. Everything is a go.
Soon I will bidding my reproductive organs adieu. They have served me well. My uterus housed my daughter for just over nine months. I could not have asked for a greater gift than what was delivered from it’s contents 30 some odd years ago. I got to thinking that perhaps I should have a little ceremony to honour them before they leave my body. It may sound strange, then again perhaps not. I think I will do that just out of my own need to acknowledge this part of me that will soon be removed. I need to thank it for containing the cancer.
I signed up to be part of the research of the BC Cancer Society. They will keep parts of the uterus to examine the cancer contained. If this can provide them with one iota of information as to why these things occur, it will be worth it. Also, I will be required to go down and provide additional samples over the years. I can withdraw at any time.
Understanding the whys and wherefores of this thing we call cancer is important to me and to many. So yes, I will participate quite willing in the war to gain further knowledge and hopefully one day eradicate it.
Some of the questions that are asked during this latest round are indeed strange as they were in the first round. I was asked if I drink. Yes, I told the nurse. I enjoy a few brews on the weekend.
Our eyes met and she asked me, ‘Can you stop?’
I regarded her for a moment. Interesting this to ask I suppose. ‘Yes, I can.’ I told her.
Then she asked me about a living will. I could bring all this information with me to ensure…in the event…that my final wishes were followed through with. I regarded her for a moment. I know that it’s mandatory for them to make these inquiries. Still, it was a moment that was rather compelling. In surgery things can and do go wrong, horribly so. Again that frailty that I am so unfamiliar with flooded me. “This could kill me.” whispered with agonizing honesty.
That steadfast voice followed it. “But it won’t.”
I smiled at the nurse. “It won’t be necessary. My daughter is well advised of my last wishes.”
Now this is not altogether true, though I did touch on this briefly with her today, I know I must sit and have this nut bar conversation with her and I am playing it out in my head a bit. It sounds a little too weird to verbalize at this time, but I know that at some point within the next few days, I need to let her know where all the insurance policies are.
My passing should not be complicated. Take any organs of value to assist others, burn the rest. Have one helluva party for me. Raise a glass and smile in remembrance of the life I lived and the being that I was.
And I look around me, at the colours, the beauty, the fabric of this world. I feel it embrace me. Too much still lays before me to discover. Death will not occur. It cannot. At some point it will. I know this and accept this. Just not now. Not like this.
And when I say that I’m scared, that this is frightening to me, know that I mean it. Despite the brave face, the spirit that I am determined to keep uplifted, there is that small part of my human psyche that says ‘but what if?’
I can only trust that my intuition is correct and that this is not my time.
Too much love still needs to be dispersed. So much to still be experienced, so much to be explored.
Last night I was at a writer’s group meeting. We were discussing marketing. At the end, a rather odd conversation broke out. I spoke about my love of language. How two people can say the same thing, yet one will say it with such eloquence and passion. That is what I love about it. When spoken from the heart, the beauty of its context can be mesmerizing.
So I will go and take my photos of summer’s night. Next year at this time I will be at Stonehenge. I want to watch the sun rise over the blue stone and feel the magic of the place infuse me. It will happen.
Blessings to all of you.
The rains have now let up and I am going to head out and take a few pictures of this beautiful evening. The life force that surrounds me grows stronger.