the space between

Keep
Behind the barrier
Look
Snap.
But
Can you see it?
See what's real
See what's really there
Or isn't there
What's in front of your very eyes
Or what's between
Just feel it
Experience
Try
Or will you wait until afterwards?
Like an old time explorer
Collecting proof

Relief

The waiting room is the same. Only last time, I wasn't anxious. Last time, I was sat here anticipating a good new year; looking forward to New Year's Eve, or more specifically, New Year's Day. Life had just started up again. There was fun, laughter and an enjoyment of the here and now. I was just in that waiting room as a precaution. No one could feel anything. It was just an ache, no lump. Nothing to worry about. Then, once inside, it was the doctor's stroke of my arm, the telling that it would be best to do biopsies there and then, the sudden appearance of the main consultant, the booking in all too quickly for another scan that gave the game away. There were shadows of concern. I usually like shadows.

Sat waiting for the next set of scans, the consent form I found myself filling in became a blur as I had a fleeting thought of my future grown up children. Will I see them? I intended to.

Two weeks later I lost a part of me. I lost a lot else too. But also gained something, with the support and love from those who cared. Harsh medical treatment failed to dent me and I seemed to be a stronger person. There was just a sadness of a loss, a loss of myself and who I had found myself to be. Now I was someone else. The longing to go back was overwhelming at times. I pined for an escape.

Hospital visits became routine. I was well looked after. Life continued as normal - rushing from school run to college, to school run, cooking, cleaning, organising homework, taxi-ing children around, trying to take photographs, trying to make art. Treatment ended eight months later and I had come through it all relatively unscathed, very few side effects, certainly no major ones. A champagne moment. I celebrated with good friends. But I still felt in limbo. With the routine gone came uncertainty, too much reflection, too much dwelling. And too much time on my own at times.

So today I had some good news. The anxiety had taken a hold this time and my request to bring forward what is from now on annual tests to spot any signs of it developing on the other side was granted. That same ache has been niggling me there for a few weeks. So this time, sitting in the same waiting room was different. This time, it was anxious. Several different scenarios were playing over in the mind, full of what ifs.

But the news was good. This time no shadows.

a train journey

Notes from my journal

Monday 21st September 2009

Vienna (Wien Sud) – Ljubljana
6 hours

Up at 6.08

Excited

Don’t know why it’s the place I feel I want to be more than the others on this trip.

6 seat compartment.
Old Austrian man and 3 other blokes.

Soundtrack:

Dead Souls, Joy Division
Someone take these dreams away
And take me to another day
Doors Closing Slowly, Manic Street Preachers
Pretty Visitors, Arctic Monkeys
Cut Off, Kasabian
Run, Snow Patrol
End of the World, Ash
Never felt so lonely
Painted From Memory, Elvis Costello & Burt Bacharach
Those eyes now smile for someone else

Gorgeous scenery
Mountains
Tree studded
Sun still low
Hazy
Since long tunnel, more cloudy
Low mist
Hilltop houses
Churches

Shooting loads. Old guy keeps nodding to me, intimating at the scenery that lies ahead – I’m at the window seat but rear facing. He looks so proud. It’s his country. Don’t blame him.

The Long Way Round, Badly Drawn Boy
Falling Down, Oasis
If you Tolerate this, MSP

Green river
Wooded hillsides
Hazy sun
Water so green

How so green?
Fresh
Gorgeous

Hostel is a former prison. In a 2 bed “cell”.

Other inmate’s bag is there.

Obviously male.

And has fortunately bagged the top bunk.

Couldn’t have got up that ladder.

Crime and Punishment is his book of choice....

Short walk to centre. 4pm so sun getting lower and lovely light.
Pink church
Pink roofs
A pink glow
Reflections on the river
3 bridges close together
Narrow river
Feels a bit like a model village
Tourists but not too touristy
St Nicholas Church
Lit a candle. Cried.
Bit of a recurring theme
Time for a beer, so sat here.
Bar Sokol having a Sokol beer. Think it’s the one J mentioned. Bit weird. Right outside the church. Beer is rather lovely. Very smooth. In a grolsch like bottle. Gorgeous. But big…

Just found stray hair on table. Know it’s mine because it’s stripy.

Tuesday 22nd September
Ljubljana

Got an early night.
Hostel not too convivial.
More like a bar than a hostel.
Felt bit pissed off.

Room mate still a no show until about 3am. Been on a day trip to Venice. Apologised for disturbing as he came in. Recognised accent immediately as Lancashire, possibly even Blackpool…. Turns out to be from Preston. Chatted a bit. Slept ok. He’s off to Maribor today.

Up earlyish.
Walked to pink church square.
Wandered along streets towards Modern Art Gallery.
Closed.
Recurring theme of this trip.
Pleasant, quiet, little city.
Not too many tourists.
Loads of building and renovation works.
Recurring theme of this trip…
Headed to quieter side of river – river very narrow, more like a Venice canal.

Stumbled across contemporary photography gallery, through a courtyard and up some stairs. 5 large images. All white subjects, dark surrounds and glimpses of light glowing. Quite surreal but beautiful in a way. Talked with gallery owner for a while. Made me think of how it would be beneficial to immerse myself in something rather than….
Sat for a coffee. breaks up the time. Deciding to walk up to the castle once the sun isn’t too high. So will wait a bit. Bought a pink scarf. I like pink next to my skin. Pink is how I see Ljubljana too.

Castle.
Quiet wooded walk. No one else around. Met two other people along the way. Climbed to the top of the tower.
Great views.
Did the usual shots.

Descended via a different route.
More urban.

Late lunch. Strange foursome sat at next table. Can’t work out what nationality they are. 50 odd year old bloke in charge. Basil Fawlty. Speaking English to waiter. Asking all sorts of questions about the menu. Keeps reprimanding him. “You don’t write it down. Then you forget!” Basil of course writes everything down. Think he’s noting all the prices. He asked for a beer a bit ago. I feel desperate to remind the nice waiter so he doesn’t get bollocked again. Oh no, Basil’s getting up to seek him out. Back clutching his beer.

Back at hostel.
Met up with cell mate Dave.
Out for drinks at bar by the river. He’s a MA student about to move to Durham to study. Chatted about Durham, Lancashire and life in general. Like the way he seems determined in what he’s set out to do.

Will be up early to catch train to Bled. Final leg….

dwell

dwell (v)
to linger, delay, brood

or to reside

dwelling
dwelling way too much

Another insomnia inspired bad idea. Will someone wake up and tell me next time.

when.....

when....

a train

southbound

still breathless

silver birches

glinting

rushing past

or so it seems

about to lose

something

to discover

a lot

when....

not so long ago

an attic room

that wasn't mine

but felt safe

slanting light highlights

a sleeping body

calm improbable smiles

no worries

no cares

care free

responsibility locked away

for now

living the now

comfortable

pure escape

when....

staring out to sea

many seas

many times

many, many times

escape

across

rhythmic

reassurance

when....

on top of a mountain

my native north

drenched in autumn

a stag appears

just a glimpse

then gone

eyelashes

My eyelashes have grown back thicker and longer than they ever were. I realised this today as I applied mascara. Not that I'd lost them altogether, or all at the same time, but they had certainly thinned out and were brittle and short for a while. This growth seems to have happened without me noticing. And one of the few things that is better than life before BC. There aren't many so I'm allowing myself to rejoice at what may seem fairly trivial advances.

At the beginning of chemotherapy, at the end of February 2009, I set out to photographically document what I expected to be complete hair loss. On top of everything that had happened, this was what I feared most. Losing my natural blonde. Before treatment started I tried on wigs, bought a hat and practised wrapping scarves. None were me. I would lose my identity and gain a completely different one. There'd be no way round not looking like a cancer patient.

My plan was to take some control. I had it cut short so that the fall out would hopefully have less impact... I think it was a good theory. But I'm incredibly lucky in that I didn't have to go through with any of the various head coverings. I kept my hair. This was due to wearing a "scalp cooling" device during the drug injections. The idea is to cut off the blood supply to the hair follicles meaning that the drugs don't reach. Cooling is not the right word though; it was fucking freezing. Sat for 3 hours with a gel filled hat frozen to minus 6 degrees wasn't much fun and most people who try it abandon it after 20 minutes. But I was determined to save my hair if I could. I'm glad I coped with the suffering. Throughout all this shit year I sometimes haven't been able to work out where my resolve and a mainly positive attitude has come from. But I know a major factor is down to keeping my hair.

So my hair didn't fall out, but it grew weaker in the 3 weekly stages between each cycle of chemo. Like the eyelashes, it wasn't majorly apparent, but in the few strands that did come out, it looked like a badger had been moulting. The hair at the root end was stripey. It seemed that it was blonde and dark stripes but in reality the lighter stripes were thinner, and if I pulled it, the strand would break at those points. So it seems like I held on to my hair by a thread.

I'm going to look after my eyelashes and enjoy them. I'm also going to keep my hair short. I think.