It’s been 14 weeks since diagnosis, 11 weeks since the operation and one month since the end of radiotherapy and I’m feeling so much better. The pain has almost gone, still tender and little sore, but no shooting, stabbing, needles and pins, heat or creams needed. I’ve been laughing, loads and really hard, with my wife, friends, sisters and family, really belly laughing and I have loved this feeling. I’m still recovering, I get tired and this feeling comes out of the blue and I say ‘I don’t understand why I am so tired’ and my wife then tells me that I’ve done too much. Loosing energy is like having your legs taken from under you, like superwoman and kryptonite, then I have to sit or sleep. But I do feel corners are turning now, light and tunnels, this feels so good.
I’ve been thinking about those that have reached out throughout this time, women who have had breast cancer, people with other cancers or those with loved ones with cancer. People in front of me reaching back and holding out their hands, helping me see what lies ahead. I’ve been thinking about their generosity, taking time to stop and share their own experiences. It’s like we are all on a train, with lots of carriages, linked and on different parts of the track. It’s a nice train, traveling through the night (not sure why night) but the windows are lit with a warm glow, and its safe, with red velvet. When someone reached back and said the worst bit is over, after the operation, that the radiotherapy would be wearing, it was and I kept this in my head. When it was said the worst bit was the waiting for results, it was because you think you are going to die and for a moment face your own mortality.
Through those that reached out, I was able to see down the carriage, the future. Seeing myself riding those red scooters (I have scooter envy) and moments when three years down the line I will forget that I even had breast cancer. However, I am acutely aware when I look around the carriage, that others who boarded the same carriage as me, that their journey is more challenging, the track and journey has twists and turns. I in turn, will keep an eye and reach out to them.
I’ve been thinking about community and generosity. We have had hampers, flowers, flapjacks, bread, wine, and gin. Stones that shine and hold strength, words woven, birds flying, cards and a woman whittled out of wood. This woman, whittled and painted in rainbow colours, is helping me dive off when I need to stop. I’m back at work, a phased return and I’m two weeks in. At the beginning of week two I started to lose sleep thinking about how, in a phased return I would manage. When planning and colour coding my days I started to eat into time I promised myself I would take off to help me recover. I know I am my own worst enemy. I have been the Artistic Director with Open Clasp for 23yrs in September. In the early days I would fundraise, manage tours, write plays, pack vans, build stages, act, facilitate workshops, pack vans and drive everyone home, for years. As the company grew and thrived, we now have highly skilled and talented staff and teams, all with roles and responsibilities shared. However, I still work at a fast pace, I lead workshops, training, write plays and share the CEO role, running the business of the company. As co-founder of Open Clasp, I have always prioritized the company and projects. You could say I thrive on my work, we (my wife and I) both do, we are activist, driven and passionate.
Open Clasp team, staff and board of Trustees are working to support my recovery, planning delivery and budgets to support teams to go forward without my lead. I need to learn to let go, to support the development and skills of others, give them space to grow, to work towards building capacity and support succession. Last week I let go of the one of the projects and this felt great and right.
On Saturday the wife and I played the Specials, I cooked spaghetti, with garlic and chilli, we toasted life with champagne. We sat at our window and looked for the sunset marking the Spring Equinox, a moment of balance, day and night of equal length. But like my intention to find my balance with work, I got it wrong, the Equinox is the 28th March. I am still a work in progress, trying to find balance and determined this is the gift I give myself this year, the year of my recovery.
P.S. the dog is doing good too.
Catrina
