Four surgeries in twelve months, including three in seven weeks. A recurrence. A series of infections. A total breast mastectomy. Not to mention this damn COVID-19. What upset my life and that of my loved ones.
Posted at 7:00 p.m.
In this month of breast cancer awareness, here is a slice of life that evokes a certain form of loneliness experienced by patients, despite the help and benevolent entourage. In my case, nature helped me regain the upper hand. The story is simple: this summer, I was exhausted. For days and days, my only big plan was to…go out in my backyard.
To get lost. Lose the thread. The passage of time. Get lost for a long time.
Do nothing. Contemplate. Out. Inside. Get stuck in the present moment.
Don’t think. Just feel. Observe. For hours, days, months, an eternity. I really don’t know anymore. Some time. Certainly.
Be in the front row to observe the waltz of the seasons. See a dandelion, two dandelions appear… an expanding yellow carpet. Marvel at the blooming clovers. The mauves, then the whites, dotting the bed of the field.
Watch the asparagus come out of the ground, see the raspberries turn pink then the tomatoes turn red. Get lost in the shades of colors. See the grass change from soft green to forest green and then to khaki green scorched by the heat. Marvel at seeing multiple golden spots again thanks to late summer goldenrod.
Do not move. Not being able to move. Manage pain. Outside. On the inside. To be exhausted. Outside. On the inside.
To watch the birds. Sparrows. Hummingbirds. And even swallows. One day, an eastern bluebird and its better half. To see them nesting right there in front of me. Suddenly hearing chirping. Let yourself be lulled by the incessant comings and goings of parents who offer a bite to the children. Then one day, witness live the great departure of the little ones: the flight of the baby birds from the nest. What luck !
Walk. Try to walk. Force yourself to move. A few meters first. Then, a few more steps each day. Set goals to always go a little further. Invent benchmarks, challenge yourself: reach a new tree with each new outing. To shiver. Weakness or fear? Whatever.
Ten steps more than the day before. Victoire. Shed a tear of hope.
Watch the friendly groundhog come out of its burrow. See her freeze, stare at me, then quietly go back to her favorite activity: nibbling on flowers, grass, grasses. Getting used to her presence every day and her to mine. Well I think.
Witness the great maneuvers of the spider. See her trap her prey by rolling them in a ball of silk. Admire his talent for weaving and reweaving his web after each take. Tirelessly.
Contemplate the dance of our friends the bees. Hear them swarm. Observe them foraging. To see them set off again for hectares with paws full of nectar. Fascinating disciplined workers.
Oh ! Deer. He is right next to me. What luck !
Be angry. Ask yourself: “Why? ” Do not understand. Rehash. Ruminate. Yell. Outside. On the inside. Trying to pull yourself together. And say to yourself again and again with firmness and wet eyes: “Come on, I’m going to be cured!” »
Feel the wind. Sometimes light. Sometimes rough. Sometimes hot. Sometimes cold. Sometimes wet. Often perfect. See each morning the sun begin its course. Watch the curve of his journey flatten day by day. Observe the lengthening shadows, the declining temperature, the rising moon, the awakening stars.
Oh ! A shooting star. What luck !
Lean. On him. On them. Outside. On the inside. Thank you every day for being so well surrounded.
Observe my flowers. Marvel at their beauty, their strength and their fragility. Draw inspiration from their posture: firmly rooted roots, heart turned towards the summer light. Cut a few calendulas, cosmoses, zinnias and dahlias. Take some sunshine with me.
To hear noise. Cries of children playing. Remember there is a school nearby. It’s already autumn. Back to reality, a little invigorated.
To get lost. Lose the thread. The passage of time. Get lost for a long time.
Do nothing. Contemplate. Out. Inside. Get stuck in the present moment.
Feed on every moment. Thank time for giving me its time. Finally, look ahead.