Coppin' the Chemo
Nonfiction, Health & Well Being, Health, Ailments & Diseases, Cancer, Biography & Memoir
| Author: | Frances Bolton | ISBN: | 9781466076334 |
| Publisher: | Frances Bolton | Publication: | February 28, 2012 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition | Language: | English |
| Author: | Frances Bolton |
| ISBN: | 9781466076334 |
| Publisher: | Frances Bolton |
| Publication: | February 28, 2012 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition |
| Language: | English |
‘Sitting in the rainforest, my mind lost in cascades, the world was wet ... I drew healthy damp oxygen into my lungs, wondering how on earth I could possibly have cancer on such a lovely, perfectly damp day in such a lovely, perfectly damp spot. I thought back to that awful wet and windy day in July, when I was told by a nurse with a deadpan expression that I definitely had IT. It was my daughter who cried, not I. I was overcome by a strange sensation as I put my arm around her. I realised, in my busy life, that now could be my Down Time. I had a family who loved me, so would I not be gently cared for … cushions appearing for my head and stools for my feet, as if by magic? I would be plied with hot tea and cups of soup...
But how wrong could I be?’
‘And so I arrived at Springbrook – in wet muddy weather, where, through the packing boxes and the up-ended sofa, I could see the clouds drifting towards us from the hills and smell the green of the trees. To me, it was the perfect weather and place to recuperate from a hard year. One which had been filled with waiting rooms, crossword puzzles and fellow sufferers.’
‘To friends and fellow sufferers – including you who know someone close who is or has gone through this – may you have help in your pain and tears. But also do not be afraid to laugh. Laughter is, after all, just some happy cells in your body jiggling up and down doing their aerobics – and who can argue with that? May those little happy cells exercise so cheerfully that they will push those clumped up bad ones right out of existence.’
‘Sitting in the rainforest, my mind lost in cascades, the world was wet ... I drew healthy damp oxygen into my lungs, wondering how on earth I could possibly have cancer on such a lovely, perfectly damp day in such a lovely, perfectly damp spot. I thought back to that awful wet and windy day in July, when I was told by a nurse with a deadpan expression that I definitely had IT. It was my daughter who cried, not I. I was overcome by a strange sensation as I put my arm around her. I realised, in my busy life, that now could be my Down Time. I had a family who loved me, so would I not be gently cared for … cushions appearing for my head and stools for my feet, as if by magic? I would be plied with hot tea and cups of soup...
But how wrong could I be?’
‘And so I arrived at Springbrook – in wet muddy weather, where, through the packing boxes and the up-ended sofa, I could see the clouds drifting towards us from the hills and smell the green of the trees. To me, it was the perfect weather and place to recuperate from a hard year. One which had been filled with waiting rooms, crossword puzzles and fellow sufferers.’
‘To friends and fellow sufferers – including you who know someone close who is or has gone through this – may you have help in your pain and tears. But also do not be afraid to laugh. Laughter is, after all, just some happy cells in your body jiggling up and down doing their aerobics – and who can argue with that? May those little happy cells exercise so cheerfully that they will push those clumped up bad ones right out of existence.’
