A month in hospital, now Chemotherapy

Viewpoint across the road from the oncology department, in Coyhaique. The perfect place to ease the mind.

Into every life, a little rain must fall. Well, it sure is pouring into mine.

Being brought up British, reserved, keeping a stiff upper lip, don't wear your heart on your sleeve, and all that sort of stuff, I've had quite a lot to think about over the weekend.

Naturally, when people find you've been ill, they ask questions to see how your recovery and feelings are going.

My first reaction is always, "I'm fine, thanks". No matter how I am feeling. Why bring people down when you can lift them up?

Ten days ago, I discovered that I need chemotherapy as the benign tumour that was recently removed with a section of my colon was not so benign after all and had metastasized (spread). It's not something that's going to polish me off overnight, but it is what it is and something I have to deal with.

Chatting with friends over lunch that day, responding to their questions about my health, I gave them the usual 'Fine, thanks' reply. I felt uncomfortable for two reasons: one is that I do not like pretending or fibbing, no matter how well-intended, and the other is that I wanted to turn this next chapter of my life into an open book with the hope that people may benefit from my experience.

On Monday, with conflicting thoughts running through my head, I had my first chemotherapy treatment, a three-hour IV session. Then I had a meeting with the residential Psychologist and social assistant, something that comes with the chemotherapy package.

I was impressed by the procedure and the questions asked and was invited to talk to fellow patients about my life experiences and maybe educate them on growing food, fermentations, construction, or even how to use video programs, or AI to create artwork and music.

The conversation was enlightening and uplifting and amazingly,

On my way out the door, I even found myself saying how happy I felt!!!

I am a creator. I love to create, whether it is forests, movements, music, or food. Creating energizes me and inspires me. I create to make the world a better place. To help people feel happy and thoughtful about their role in the world. It's a win-win situation I enjoy creating, people enjoy my creations. I am acting on behalf of the planet and all life on it and often others feel inspired to do the same.

So with inspiration in mind, I have decided to keep an open diary on my progression through the treatment I will receive over the next six months. I have quite a broad outreach via social media and believe I can give some clarity to what is often seen as a fearful road to tread. I have a lot of experience regarding medicinal plants and foods and cultivation, and a philosophical perspective that, in conversation with the psychologist, tells me I may be of assistance to anyone on this healing path, or knows someone who is. Even here in little La Junta, I know at least a dozen people who have made the journey, some more successfully than others.

'What do you think of the oncology department?' This was the first thing the psychologist asked.

A very good question indeed, I thought, and told him of how welcoming it was, warm, and with cheerful staff.

On deeper self-inspection, I explained how I thought it was the great equalizer, where all who come are in the same boat, rich or poor, young or old, no matter their philosophy, religion, race, or background.

Although this may at times be difficult, I am going to make the most of this journey and hope you come along for the ride, for I have entered a new community, and from that, something useful may be learned.

The oncology department advised me to keep a 'chemotherapy diary'.

I am calling mine...A Journey To I Know Not Where

Diary Entry #2 The Gift Of A Caring Community