When I was younger, our religion teacher asked us to keep a gratitude journal, listing five things that we were thankful for as part of our class.
Each week, I struggled to fill it, writing variations of "I am thankful for my friends/learning a new song on the guitar/my knee being ok to play matches/seeing a gig."
Yesterday was an ok day. It wasn't anything special-there was work, which involved accompanying a colleague on two simple shoots with two lovely people, there was editing, there was a bit of room cleaning, there was some bread-baking, and there was my first pint since the end of the six nations whilst out with my housemates. But given how shit the last fortnight has been, yesterday is a day that I'm thankful I had.
Thursday saw me have my first endoscopy to discover that yes, I do have have stomach ulcers. And there's some damage to the lining of the stomach, most probably caused by the 15+ years long relationship I've had with painkillers. Most reassuringly, the blinding stomach pains and nausea I've had over the last few months were caused by something explicable, something fixable. I hadn't realised how much I'd been worrying about it until it was confirmed-a weight off my shoulders is putting it mildly.
Monday marks surgery No.5 for my poor knee in the last 12 months, and possibly No.10 in total....I've had that many that I'm not sure anymore. People keep telling me that I'm very calm about it, that I'm so brave to be trusting it'll work-but what other choice do i have? There's not much point worrying about-I have total faith in my wonderful surgeon to fix it, and I have total trust in my fantastic physio to help me get it back to normal over the few months after it. There are worse things to be dealing with than a knee problem, especially one I've had before.
One of those worse things happened last week with the confirmation that my Aunt can't have anymore chemo. My heart is breaking as I write those words, because it's just plain wrong. It's wrong that a woman of 53 is going to be taken from us just a few short months after a diagnosis. It's wrong that the baby of the family will leave before her elder siblings. It's wrong that my wonderful Uncle and Godfather is to be widowed, it's wrong that we won't see that cheeky grin, or hear the laughter and feel that love that radiated across a table as breakfast was shared in a home where a robin used to join us for food. It's just wrong.
After getting the news late last friday night, I spent Saturday in daze. I attempted to go shopping, but everything in the shops upset me. Happy smiling people, people meandering through shop aisles....new books, new dvds, new films coming out "soon" left me wondering would she be here for them. The Beatles All You Need Is Love left me in tears in HMV with the poor dude who worked there left wondering what this strange woman was doing crying at the shelves. Everything in the place just seemed pointless.
The only good thing I will say for cancer is it gives you time. Time to say I love you, time to sit and chat about the important things and the not so important things, time to adjust, time to grieve. I drove down to Limerick on Tuesday night as I figured it'd be the last chance I got to go down there without needing someone to drive me. It was a bittersweetly beautiful time-we sat, we talked, we ate, we laughed, we cried and it's a night I will remember to the ends of my days. Nights like that very easily put the rest of life in perspective.
Music is always a comfort at times likes this and the only bit of it that's floating around my head right now is from Damien Rice....it's fairly apt and rather true of my current state of mind...
"she broke down the other day y'know.....some things in life may change....and some things....they stay the same.....like time....there's always time....on my mind.....so pass me by, I'll be fine....just give me time...."
Saturday, April 26, 2014
Friday, April 18, 2014
nil aon tintean mar do thintean fein....
Almost a month since the last post, and it's very much a case of plus ca change....
There's so much going on right now I'm not even sure what I should be writing. There's some kind of saying that you should take your current worries and wonder how much they'll have impacted your life in 5 years time....i.e....by then, will any of this have mattered?
Right now, all I can say is, yes, they all will. In 5 years time, my great-aunt will still be dead, my aunt, barring a miracle with her chemo , will probably be too. My brother, depending on how aggressively his cancer returns, may be too. My knee will still bear the scars of this latest surgery, and all I can hope for now is that it gives me some relief from the chronic pain and allows me to enjoy some quality of life. In the next few weeks hopefully the results of my endoscopy for my recent crippling stomach pains will mean that the problem will be either long resolved or ongoing and manageable. And finally, my current home & sanctuary will be long gone, either demolished, or in the hands of someone else, who most probably won't want to rent it.
It's this latest blow that has floored me, the proverbial back-breaking straw. I've been here over five years, and to me, my room here, this house, this garden, it's proximity and distance to everything is what has kept me sane throughout the surreal highs and lows that life has dealt me over the last few years. I'm finding it hard to even reconcile thoughts of leaving here whilst everything is going on-where else can I come home late at night and sit out marveling at the stars with no streetlights ruining the view. Where else will I find that deep silence in the wee small hours, broken only by the occasional bat squeaking it's way across the garden. Where else will I turn a corner and feel comforted by the sight of once-whitewashed walls and a red door, knowing that just inside it lies the most comfortable room with it's many varying memories.
And what memories they are.....loud nights drinking and talking with lovers, friends and family, silent nights in grief and contemplation, chilled out nights playing guitar on the bonnet of my car, watching the ISS fire it's way across the starry skies, and, back when I could, sunny evenings spent gardening, mowing the lawn, or kicking a ball around with friends and housemates. My life over the last five years has had it's ups and downs like everyone's, but in this old house, I've had the freedom to sleep with the curtains opens and be woken by beautiful sunrisen light and birdsong. I've had the freedom to scream and shout in the depths of raging grief, I've had the freedom to sing and dance to loud music, or even play my own music on an aging guitar and amplifier.
I've fallen in love and out of love over the years, with men who I trusted to understand the love I had for a constantly-messy room. I've had housemates who have driven me to insanity and I've had housemates who've made it worthwhile sharing a house. I've come home sober, I've come home drunk, I've come home injured, I've come home to recuperate after several surgeries, and I can honestly say, coming home to this house has kept me sane throughout those times. Despite the neighbour's evil cat (trust me, he's evil. he's been glaring at all of us this house for the last 5 years. you can barely look him in the eye without getting a cold shiver from the look of pure unadulterated evil you will be met with!) this house, this home has been the epitome of home to me. II don't think it's a coincidence that with it's old style feel and look, it reminded me of Glenallen, my Gran's house and my other home.
If I can stay here til August, I'll be here six years. Almost the same length of time I spent at my parents house when we moved in 1995. And I've felt more at home here in the last 5 years than I ever did in those 6 at my parents house. As I've gotten older, I appreciate the house where my folks live, but I know once they're no longer in it, the house will no longer bear any resemblance to a home for me. Yet here has, since the moment I first drove in the gate, to see a huge lawn, an apple tree, and a welcoming red door, been home. Home is where the heart is, and a huge part of mine will always be here....
.jpeg)
There's so much going on right now I'm not even sure what I should be writing. There's some kind of saying that you should take your current worries and wonder how much they'll have impacted your life in 5 years time....i.e....by then, will any of this have mattered?
Right now, all I can say is, yes, they all will. In 5 years time, my great-aunt will still be dead, my aunt, barring a miracle with her chemo , will probably be too. My brother, depending on how aggressively his cancer returns, may be too. My knee will still bear the scars of this latest surgery, and all I can hope for now is that it gives me some relief from the chronic pain and allows me to enjoy some quality of life. In the next few weeks hopefully the results of my endoscopy for my recent crippling stomach pains will mean that the problem will be either long resolved or ongoing and manageable. And finally, my current home & sanctuary will be long gone, either demolished, or in the hands of someone else, who most probably won't want to rent it.
It's this latest blow that has floored me, the proverbial back-breaking straw. I've been here over five years, and to me, my room here, this house, this garden, it's proximity and distance to everything is what has kept me sane throughout the surreal highs and lows that life has dealt me over the last few years. I'm finding it hard to even reconcile thoughts of leaving here whilst everything is going on-where else can I come home late at night and sit out marveling at the stars with no streetlights ruining the view. Where else will I find that deep silence in the wee small hours, broken only by the occasional bat squeaking it's way across the garden. Where else will I turn a corner and feel comforted by the sight of once-whitewashed walls and a red door, knowing that just inside it lies the most comfortable room with it's many varying memories.
And what memories they are.....loud nights drinking and talking with lovers, friends and family, silent nights in grief and contemplation, chilled out nights playing guitar on the bonnet of my car, watching the ISS fire it's way across the starry skies, and, back when I could, sunny evenings spent gardening, mowing the lawn, or kicking a ball around with friends and housemates. My life over the last five years has had it's ups and downs like everyone's, but in this old house, I've had the freedom to sleep with the curtains opens and be woken by beautiful sunrisen light and birdsong. I've had the freedom to scream and shout in the depths of raging grief, I've had the freedom to sing and dance to loud music, or even play my own music on an aging guitar and amplifier.
I've fallen in love and out of love over the years, with men who I trusted to understand the love I had for a constantly-messy room. I've had housemates who have driven me to insanity and I've had housemates who've made it worthwhile sharing a house. I've come home sober, I've come home drunk, I've come home injured, I've come home to recuperate after several surgeries, and I can honestly say, coming home to this house has kept me sane throughout those times. Despite the neighbour's evil cat (trust me, he's evil. he's been glaring at all of us this house for the last 5 years. you can barely look him in the eye without getting a cold shiver from the look of pure unadulterated evil you will be met with!) this house, this home has been the epitome of home to me. II don't think it's a coincidence that with it's old style feel and look, it reminded me of Glenallen, my Gran's house and my other home.
If I can stay here til August, I'll be here six years. Almost the same length of time I spent at my parents house when we moved in 1995. And I've felt more at home here in the last 5 years than I ever did in those 6 at my parents house. As I've gotten older, I appreciate the house where my folks live, but I know once they're no longer in it, the house will no longer bear any resemblance to a home for me. Yet here has, since the moment I first drove in the gate, to see a huge lawn, an apple tree, and a welcoming red door, been home. Home is where the heart is, and a huge part of mine will always be here....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)