We All Fall Down

For the past four weeks I have felt like I was falling, free-falling even. Eight years ago (TikTok) I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I had just said goodbye sweet princess to a beautiful friend, ravaged by the same cruel disease. I spent a grey day in a hospital on the Sunshine Coast being poked, prodded and jabbed. It all seemed unnecessarily clinical, strangely unhumanitarian. For them I suppose it was their everyday, for us it was a day we would never forget. But I survived.

TikTok. Another state, another scan, the start of another 'journey'? I hoped not. But the delays in actually getting a scan here had sown the seeds of doubt and I wasn't really surprised when I received the call to action. Time stopped. Time started to turn backwards but I fought against the tide and held it at bay. A stone lodged itself in my chest, making breathing and sometimes even speaking difficult. I kept myself busy yet every now and then I felt myself freeze, the voice in my head saying, 'what if it's back'?

What if it's back? What if it's already the size of a strawberry? The last one had only been pea sized and that had caused enough trouble. I didn't think I could become part of the machine again but would there be an alternative? Alternative medicine? My friend had tried everything imaginable and still cancer won. Drive myself off the road? But what if I survived with life changing injuries? Life isn't a multiple choice game. I closed the door firmly on these thoughts. But the stone had become a rock.

A different space, a different game. Yesterday, a three hour drive, both of us flinching at the amount of traffic, the sheer number of people in our small capital - it's crazy how living in the country lulls you into a false sense of security, peace and quiet. Potentially another day of being poked, prodded and jabbed. TikTok. A calmer, friendlier, altogether more humane experience. Of course I still didn't want to be there, nobody did. But somehow the team made it bearable, less sterile. By lunchtime I was free to go. The doctor had reached in and shattered the rock and I had dodged a bullet. We went to the pub. The pub that had been a delightfully eclectic, slightly shabby English style one with great food. The pub that has now been transformed into a characterless gastro pub with a limited menu that needs a translator.

I lifted the wine glass to my lips but the wine caught in my throat as I thought of the women who weren't free to go for lunch. The ones who would be kept back for further testing just as I was years ago. I'm not one for prayer but I did dedicate my meditation this morning to those brave women and to the many around the world who are waiting for results. May you be safe, may you be healthy, may you be happy, may you live with ease.