Battling on...

Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying,
"I will try again tomorrow."

 Mary Anne Radmacher

I am still, sadly, struggling a bit with this life with cancer malarkey. I am now on chemo 22 or 23, I have lost count, and it is taking its toll. The chemo attacks your small bones and joints and I am really aware of this most waking moments. Waking in the morning to sore fingers, toes, wrists, elbows, actually the list is too long, just pain everywhere, is challenging, to say the least. The predicament comes in this form; if I choose to stop this chemo, I am simply putting myself in a position of allowing the tumours to grow again (and they will). If I continue with the chemo then I have to take all of the things that go with it. There is no happy ending to this state of affairs. This is where I realise, again, that I spent my life projecting instead of living in the day. Now, in the main, this is not how one should live. However, when going through tough times it is sometimes vital to be able to project in a kind of "this shall pass" philosophical way. In my current situation this philosophy doesn't work. I'm in no man's land. So what to do? I am getting through the pain and bad days by constantly reminding myself that I am still alive and that in itself is to be celebrated. I have to tell myself that this pain is part of what I have to deal with through this illness. I try to see my situation as a chronic but manageable one, and actually it is. I remind myself that I don't have to go to work and that lots of things in normal life don't apply to me, this allows me to deal more effectively with the other stuff. This rationale proves essential on particularly bad mornings when I struggle to take the duvet from my head. I no longer have the facility to say to myself that next week, month, year will be better and therefore I have to see what good i can find in my immediate future, namely today, this day and not the next one. So, today I am going to finish decorating the Christmas tree and then go and buy lights that Olivia is insisting she have on her bedroom window. This is cause for celebration as normally I am very particular about what I like/have Christmas decoration wise. I only allow, lets say, what I describe, as tasteful stuff. This year, I am throwing caution (or taste) to the wind and allowing Olivia to have what she wants. To dampen the mood, momentarily, I really don't know that I will be here next Christmas and therefore I want Olivia to have what she wants this one. On a lighter note, it allows me to embrace the tacky and do things I wouldn't ordinarily do. That can only be a good thing. There, I have turned a negative into a positive, this cancer sure works in mysterious ways.