Is this the terminus?

In the recent  interview with the BBC they referred to me as terminal. That word triggered lots of people I know to be in contact me. It’s not a word I use. I’m not even sure it’s accurate. The world of secondary breast cancer is now a journey into the unknown. So far the only drug that’s worked for me is olaparib and it’s only available off license to me. No one knows how long it will work and right now I’m working on the basis I’m doing ok and hoping it will stay like this for a very long time. I set some dates in my head….if I can get to…..but don’t say them out loud for fear of tempting fate to have a different plan. I’m taking  wise advice on building up my nutrition and well being. And generally taking time to smell the roses……..or more accurately watch the blossom. It’s joyful catching the avenues of blossom around the city. 

We once visited Japan and more specifically, Kyoto during the blossom festival. The array of delicate flowers interspersed among the temples was so exquisite. So delicate  and precious it was impossible to capture in a photo or in text. Japan is an enigma to me. A land of contrast and I saw so little of it. I didn’t see Hiroshima or read more about the impact. And after that we went on to Vietnam to be tourists yes, but also to visit our son who was working there. Could a country be more of a contrast to the beautifully designed Japan? Vietnam or more specifically Hanoi at the start of our holiday, has a temple around any corner, a plethora of streets selling one type of clothing etc. There is for example a street of shoe shops, a street with all clothes, one with jewellery  and so it goes on. And then you see the French influence of croissants and baguettes for sale alongside the opportunity to breakfast on pho as the locals do. What was so apparent was that the warmth and friendliness of the Vietnamese is a contrast to the Japanese whose culture favours the inscrutable. It was a fabulous holiday, the type I can only dream of now, given my health and lack of mobility. 

So this summer the goal is to enjoy time with family and precious friends on closer shores but nonetheless beautiful. Scotland too has a treasured scene around many a corner and at this stage in my life that is more than enough. 

And back to that word, terminal. No I'm not there but I know it’s coming but till then I’m living…not dying. I started this poem and so far it’s only one verse…

 Terminal

Is it where the bus stops?

That cold spot in winter

when home beckons 

out of reach

a bleak spot.

Or so it seems from here,

so far from the terminal

and not far enough. 

The space between here and where?

 I am thinking about how to capture this space between life and death.  But Is it fair to call it that? After all in this space I’ve launched a book. I’ve planned webinars, I’ve been interviewed about assisted dying. In many ways it’s a fertile time, unfettered by work or demanding expectations. The photo below was taken when I was interviewed by the BBC about my thoughts on the issues with regard to the assisted dying bill in Scotland. A challenging issue for which there isn’t one answer. But it’s a good time to explore it. 

The greatest demands for us however come in the shape of a 15 year old tabby cat who has suddenly  become a lap cat from one who was aloof but friendly. We’ve tried to analyse him, perhaps he too was grieving our dog Cara who died exactly a year ago. 

Initially he shunned her bed, a bed he’d chosen to lie in daily during her life then walked away from when she finally succumbed to the growth that stole her later years. She was never aloof -more all embracing and verbose. This year that we’ve learned to live without her has found him emerge with a cheeky confidence; no longer last in line for the left over cheese. Now he spends some time each day curled up on our laps, snoring softly and ever alert for meal times. His transition is so welcome and I hope we are each meeting others needs equitably. He’s maybe just needing more comfort with the passing years, as we are too. Whatever the cause it’s so welcome. 

So this time in my life is about living not dying. But the limits of my energy reminds me daily that this is not a normal stage. On Friday we went to see Hamilton and I was wowed by it.But I could only get evening tickets and even as I was lifted by the music,the talent the whole experience the energy leaked out of me and affected my pleasure in it all. I want to watch it again and savour the experience it offers. In truth it’s not just Hamilton, I’m losing my evenings as I struggle to hold on to the life I have now and letting go of what’s no longer possible. I’m still learning the signals that say stop and unlearn the life long ones that pushed through tiredness and illness. 

Mmm it’s all news and part of me doesn’t want to let go of what was just yet.