Do you ever feel your mortality? Do you ever consider that you may not see your children grow up or see them marry? Have you considered that you may never be a grandparent? I hope not.
Three years ago I considered myself invincible. I thought of myself as still young with so much life ahead of me. I took a lot for granted. I had already survived overwhelming grief, the loss of a parent, the loss of my innocence, the loss of my first love and the almost total destruction of my second marriage. I had survived a complete emotional breakdown, years of severe recurring depression and anxiety, and I even survived a moment of sheer desperation when I swallowed all the tablets in my bedside table.
But it was discovering the monster lurking within my own body that totally undid me. Suddenly I was no longer invincible or immortal. Suddenly I was fighting for my life. I was feeling pretty healthy at the time but they told me I was actually very sick. And for the next 18 months I felt incredibly sick as I tried to get well. In order to cure me the doctors half killed me. Even now, three years into my journey, I am not as "healthy" as I was before my treatment. And you wonder why I get angry? The monster took so much from me.
And no matter how many people tell me not to dwell on it, or how often they tell me, I still have the scars to remind me daily of the fact that I came close enough to stare death in the face. And it's not pretty.
Even now I don't know whether my odds are improving or getting worse. Three years ago I was told that my chance of a recurrence was 80% in 5 years. 80% in 5 years!!! Huge huh? So three years along, having just completed another swag of tests and scans that came back negative, should I be relieved that I have survived this long without a recurrence OR should I be concerned that as I get closer to the magical 5 year mark the risk of them discovering something sinister increases? Eighty percent is a big number. It messes with my head.
I feel my mortality keenly these days. I consider every day a gift. I celebrate everything, and sometimes I celebrate nothing. I use the good china, I leave dirty dishes in the sink and I make time to get ink on my fingers and glitter on my face. I desperately hope to see Ash grow up and marry and make me a grandmother. I tell my family and friends that I love them whenever possible. I watch the sunrise and the sunset as often as I can.
And every single day I wonder if I could possibly be lucky enough to be one of the 20%.
