Happy Days

Watching Wimbledon this week and anticipating the Olympics, I was struck by what a lucky little so-and-so I have been. I was trying to imagine what my “bucket” list might have looked like in my late teens/ early twenties and I reckon it would have looked a bit like this

A trip to Disney World
Watch tennis at Wimbledon
Meet my soul mate
See the Northern Lights
Dance at the Tower Ballroom
Have a successful career
Go to the Olympics
See New England in the fall

I don’t think, at that age, the one thing left on my bucket list – travel throughout Ireland (particularly Galway, Cavan and Tipperary) would have made the list; I probably didn’t understand my cultural and ancestral ties at that age.

Fair to say I have smashed the rest of it, the Northern Lights were dropped in my lap, a gift from nature that wasn’t lost on me. I have travelled North America extensively and enjoyed every second, Yosemite (three times), Disney World and Orlando (seven times) and the Canadian rockies (twice); would be my favourites, but I also loved Zion, New York, Boston, Washington DC, San Francisco, Washington, Vancouver and Shenandoah. I wish I had been brave enough to explore South America and the Indian Continent – I feel the colour and vibrancy of those places would have awakened my senses and lust for adventure in ways that could have changed my life; but my desire for comfort and safety has always been too strong. Reading has been my travel placebo. I’ve been to many a cup final at Wembley, have spectated at Wimbledon several times, was one of the many who experienced Super Saturday first hand, I danced at the Tower Ballroom with my soul mate and I think my career was reasonable.

I have had an incredible life, probably not by anyone else’s standards but, in my eyes, I have achieved so much. My life has been full of love – given and received. I know that I have saved lives through my compassion and understanding – what a gift that is. And I have influenced other lives of course, mostly positively, and certainly my intent has always been one of kindness. I have worked hard and had much enjoyment. There have been challenges, grief – as it is for most people my age – has been my companion many times in the last twenty years. My health has been, for the most part, excellent and I am full of admiration for my body’s ability to do all it does. My most recent challenge came on the 4^th March this year when I heard, for the second time, those fateful words “sorry, it’s cancer”. I was alone, I was shocked, I was afraid. My overwhelming thought was I am not ready to die. The system kicked into action quickly and efficiently – staging CT, bloods, scans, further histology and I was to come back on 21^st March for a fuller diagnosis and to agree a plan.

On that day I wrote in my journal “scared, hopeful, numb”. That about covers it!

The results were as good as they could be in the circumstances, and a plan was put in place for surgery the following Wednesday, yet again the system ramped up and I was pre-op’d and ready. On the Saturday before my operation, I decided to do the 100 Happy Days challenge. I am so glad I did. Firstly, to notice just how quickly 100 days passes; and perhaps more importantly to gain some evidence about what exactly makes me happy. The first thing I need to point out is that there are more happy things than there are days – because it wasn’t `the happiest thing’ but all that had made me happy that day. When I looked back this week to analyse the results, I was pleased to see that most of the things that make me happy represent the cornerstones of good mental health.

Thirty-eight times in the 100 days I noted some aspect of “noticing nature”, from the Northern Lights to a pretty flower, and there is such resonance here with my day to day. I am surprised it wasn’t 900/100 as that’s what my life feels like.

My beautiful pup Zahra, with all her challenges, was the next highest scoring; followed closely by friends and family. Love, as I have already said, and I am lucky to have the best people (and pup) in my corner. I appreciate every one of my relationships.

Next came food and more specifically cake, and anyone who knows me knows this to be true! I could do with cutting down a bit, but it’s never lost on me that nourishing myself is a great privilege. Enjoying tastes and textures; and using food to express my love for others is, and always will be, a huge and healthy part of my life.

The next highest scoring happy factor was family history. I have been researching my family history for more than three decades and I love so much about this. I love the actual research, playing detective, analysing facts, seeing patterns – holding everything loosely, and then homing in and proving a piece of evidence. It has taught me so much about life and how to analyse information, also about being non-judgmental and keeping my heart and mind open. Then there are the stories, often not my own blood line but some delightful rabbit holes that I have tumbled down along the way – like the story of Catherine Ratcliffe-Duncan, a pit brow lass from Billinge; and Mary Ellen Foster, who left rural Rainford to enhance her nurse training and ended up being one of the first registered physiotherapists. But it’s the people I have met along the way who are the greatest treasure, not just the many cousins I have connected with but the genealogists who are so kind and generous with their time and expertise.

The next part of my analysis shows several things with equal weighting: art, reading, naps, self-care and self-improvement. Wonderful! House work and home improvements snuck onto the list – I don’t think we should live for “things” or keeping those things clean and tidy; but nor do I need to justify myself, I am working on being happy with “being” and I don’t see these features as a failure – just clarity that I have work to do and in the meantime I appreciate my surroundings and beautiful things as a form of art.

Finally celebrating the milestones of my cancer treatment was a small feature, ringing that `end of treatment’ bell is quite something. Who knows what the future holds; but I know that I will face it with the right attitude, excellent support and the experience of a life well lived.

If you want to read more about Zahra, Catherine or Mary Ellen see my previous blog posts on this site.

It’s Life not a Fairy-tale

21 years ago I was admitted to hospital for a mastectomy. I was 38 years old. I had breast cancer. Over the years I have celebrated the day of my surgery, the start of my remission, as a second birthday. I have maintained a positive focus. But in recent years I find people who didn’t know me, don’t understand and don’t “get” why this is important. So, I decided this year I would travel back to that very frightened woman who entered that hospital ward. I was absolutely terrified, devastated. I remember feeling sick to my stomach every day from my diagnosis to the day of my surgery – a short ten days, imagine the pressure now for those given a speedy diagnosis but delay to treatment. That day I barely functioned, I remember the nurse asking if I had any worries or anxieties – I looked at her incredulously and said “of course”. I had no concept of how breast cancer would kill someone, I just thought I was going to die. As soon as the lights went out, I cried into my pillow, all night.

I never thought “why me”, partly because my mum (wonderful human being) had said “if you say `why me’ you’re saying it should be someone else” and because of a young lad (around 14 years old) who had been at the same assessment clinic. At first, I thought he was there with his mum, and I remember thinking “how sweet” but they called his name and I thought “rather me than you”. I have no idea how it worked out for him. I have had 21 years (so far), and I am so grateful for that. I also got an enormous wake up call, because while I didn’t say “why me” I guess I did say “why”. I struggled to understand the crashing of the fairy tale – I had been a “good girl”, people described me as industrious, hard-working, kind, etc. I had taken good care of myself, always fearing the heart disease that had plagued my dad since his forties, I ate well, never smoked, didn’t drink, went to the gym and stayed fit and slim. I didn’t understand why I was getting cancer when I didn’t fit the (fake) profile (it’s fake because breast cancer risks are being female, over 50 and having family history; the second two didn’t apply and there wasn’t much I could do about the first one). I quickly understood that life is extremely random. Bad things happen to good people. The fairy tale is… a fairy tale.

Understanding life is random was a positive too. I think I made a better fist of it since then. I determined not to be quite as good, on my script “good” meant perfect and selfless. At that time, I didn’t have the understanding to challenge those fundamental flaws in my life map, but I did understand that working 60-70 hours a week wasn’t really serving me. I also understood – gasp – that in the face of such uncertainty about my future, work wasn’t about to take care of me! The people I worked with were amazing and I am lucky to have strong friendships that were forged before, during and after that time – you know who you are, and I love you. So, I decided that I would redirect my energy. At one point I was working full time and had four voluntary posts (school governor, support worker for a national breast cancer charity, member of the hospital’s patient engagement group for cancer and an experimental medicines committee member at another hospital. I did lots of different things, landed on spending my time between work, leisure, a couple of voluntary positions and a course in photography at the local technical college. On that course I met my now husband, an extremely patient, gentle and kind man.

Our lives since have been a rollercoaster, the lowest point was my mum being diagnosed with not one but two terminal illnesses six months after we were married, the high getting a Masters at 54 years of age. My volunteer work led to my coaching, a passion that makes me understand that work doesn’t have to be labour. Recent years have been very hard, I think Covid changed us all and alongside that I have faced a few personal challenges. I have a small circle of family and very close friends who are constant and very precious to me. Who knows what the future holds? I am glad to be here, and I am grateful for every experience. Most of all I am so grateful for who I am, for what life has made me – kind, fierce, forgiving and brave.

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My Second Life

On this day 19 years ago I went to the operating theatre to have my left breast removed, it had developed a significant invasive cancerous tumour and it had to go! I am, as far as I know, in remission. I celebrate this day as my second birthday, the last 19 years as the second life I was given; and I try to use it well. So here are 19 of the things I have learned:

There’s really no such thing as the “all clear”, I have given up explaining this but really no-one can be guaranteed “cancer free”, the correct term is “no evidence of disease”.
I am still me, a work in progress but always me. Cancer didn’t take anything from me, I am not my disease. I am not “the one who had breast cancer” because I am so much more than that.
Who I am is far more important than how I look.
Who I am is a gazillion times more important that what anyone else thinks of me. Their judgement is about them, not me.
Life is not fair. Bad things happen to good people. Lightning does strike twice or even more times. Heartbreak is a part of life, as long as you have love and joy, you will have grief and sorrow; but the love and joy will prevail and it is worth it. Oh, and cancer is a lottery – I didn’t `deserve’ it, no one deserves it. We constantly look for explanations but sometimes there just is no explanation. If you have been diagnosed, please, please know that it isn’t what you did or said or took or didn’t take. Yes, there are health risks and if you want to reduce yours and live a healthier life, please do – you will no doubt benefit but as the bible says “Todays burdens are enough for one day”, don’t add to your load with blame or shame.
Everything changes, all the time, regardless of whether you want it to or don’t want it to. You are not in control, you cannot change it – accept it, go with it.
Anything is possible, good and bad, so stay open that possibility.
Perfection does not exist, you aren’t perfect and nor is anyone else. Your parents aren’t perfect, they are just doing the best they can and they know you aren’t perfect – they just want the very best for you and sometimes it comes out a bit twisted. But really, they love you just exactly as you are.
As Maja Angelou says “People will forget what you said, they will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel”.
There are no bad feelings, just your feelings. Listen to them, let them tell you what they mean. You are not your feelings, but they are important.
I tried to say this better but couldn’t, so take it away Emily Dickinson
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I’ve heard it in the chillest land.
And on the strangest sea,
Yet never in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
Count your blessings, gratitude has been proven to improve well being and it’s a great practice to get into.
Forgive and send love to everyone, especially those who don’t seem to deserve it – they are usually the ones who need it the most.
You can do it, even in the fiercest storms of your darkest days – you are stronger than you know.
Breathe deeply, practice slowing and deepening your breathing as a means to steadying yourself when life churns you up a bit.
As the wonderful Matt Haig says “notice the beauty”, look around you, there is always something to appreciate.
Everyone has something to teach you.
Learning is a wonderful gift, stay curious, ask questions and listen.
Love is everything – to love and be loved.