A creature made of clay

There is still one month to go until I next see my specialist.  So I am in the same position of knowing nothing more.  I told myself I wouldn’t write anything else until I do know more but here I am with free time to think.  I have had a few spells of depression recently.  Nothing overwhelming but enough to derail me for a couple of days.  I was really saddened to read that a lady I spoke to on FB and through this blog died of the dreaded AS recently.  Henrianna seemed a lovely soul and wrote a blog and poetry on WordPress.  I only read this news yesterday and it makes me feel sad and fearful – the familiar duo.

I didn’t know Henrianna, we only made a brief, limited connection because of the disease and our blogging about it.  So my brow feels a little heavy as I think about her and her family today.  She was a young woman, dragged away too early but I’m glad she isn’t suffering any more.

I’ve been listening to a lot of music by an Irish folk band called the Dubliners over recent days.  I have also watched documentaries about them and in particular about a singer and banjo player in the group called Luke Kelly.  I have never paid much attention to Irish folk music.  I was first turned on to Irish music by a girl I dated some years ago.  I downloaded an album by The Wolftones at the time and there were a few quirky tracks on there I liked.  However I thought of it as frivolous, diddley dee music, good for a rousing sing-along.  Then I followed a link by someone on FB to this one song by The Dubliners, sung by Luke Kelly.  The song was called Raglan Road and he sang with such conviction and emotion and the words prodded me and nourished my soul.

I’ve been enjoying watching YouTube clips of the band and listening to them perform since then.  I’ve compiled a list of songs I like most and they are all deep, touching ballads.  I thought of a couple I could have played at my funeral in lieu of hymns.  That might seem morbid enough but then I watched a documentary about Luke Kelly and he died tragically young at 43 from cancer.  Good grief, is it everywhere?  It seems this disease pervades every nook and cranny.

It occurred to me that I might be seeking out these examples of cancer and that it has become a part of my identity.  I think that there maybe some truth in that.  I was the little kid who had cancer, then the guy who walked with a limp because he had cancer, now I am the one legged bloke who lost his leg because of cancer.  I was a cancer survivor and now I am a cancer sufferer again.  It honestly doesn’t occur to me all the time though.  It’s not a thing I have tattooed on my brain that affects everything I do and say.  I forget for long periods of time that it is there or has ever been there.  Then it pings back into focus.  It is hard to forget for long when it is so prevalent, when so many people are touched by it.  I went on watching videos about The Dubliners wondering what they did when Luke died. They carried on, a guy called Ronnie singing most of the songs.  His voice was so deep and rich someone described it as sounding like “coke being crushed under the door” (coke the fuel, not the drink).  He died some years later of…cancer of course.

I don’t think I seek it out, it’s more a case of when you experience something personally you then become more aware of it around you.  It was there all along but you didn’t notice it so much before.

This blog is about angiosarcoma.  If it weren’t for that disease I would never have written this blog that I post on FB.  Cancer’s tendrils run deep within my life.

I have come to a conclusion about life and that is the older I get, the less I am sure about anything.  I go with my gut instinct but I don’t think it matters which way I go, life has no fixed paths.  We are born and die and we fill the middle part with whatever we can and if we’re lucky we get to have some say in what we choose.  Sadly some people get cancer.  It’s not because they are bad people or that they made bad choices it’s just a roll of the genetic dice.  Sometimes they survive and sometimes they pass.  If we’re lucky we get some treatment to help our bodies to fight the disease.  It’s horrible and I hate that some people die before they feel ready.  I mourn their end and feel grieved. I feel grief for Henrianna Nathanari Sena.

 

 

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