If you follow me on Instagram or were friends on Facebook you will already know I have a lurcher dog and a tabby cat. I was describing them to a friend yesterday as an analogy for how I respond to stress. Cara the dog is a complete diva, one stub of the toe and they will hear her in Norway. She could put banshees out of business, she can empty waiting rooms at the vet and she will accept endless petting to help her feel better. She is an adorable wuss.
Now when it comes to Koshka the cat, it’s a different story. He goes quiet and still and says nothing. He hides away in a favourite spot and does his best to make himself small ( something of a challenge as he’s a big boy!). His response to stress is to curl up and his body language screams, just leave me, I’m FINE.
I am that cat.
But when I’m forced out of my safe place ( my home) I realise how vulnerable I am now. My spinal problem means my walking is very slow and I’m in pain as soon as I stand. A recent break away shook me from my denial and I decided to go for surgery on my spine. I’m hoping for the best and trying to prepare for the worst. I was originally told it could be a 50% risk of paralysis and that’s all I heard. But of course as I worsen and see that as a real possibility of doing nothing I am seeing the possibility of the other 50%. So as I write I am on the waiting list and trying to build fitness for the surgery. I even found my inner lurcher for a time and howled but normal service has resumed and I’m FINE again.
But just every now and again I get angry and on one of those occasions I wrote this.
A growth
the crab crawls across
my consciousness
cancer stalks me
but it’s not that
I breathe
again
Rare
he said
a bony stab
on my spine
pain it’s weapon
slowing me
to no escape
I deal you cancer
I raise you
a damaged spine
I say
F***
them
both
But I’m fine really.......
