I'm beginning to
think that perhaps it is OK to look forwards again, that perhaps I can allow
myself the luxury of planning for the future. I still have a way to go - one
more round of chemotherapy, another few weeks of feeling really sick and
drained, another ride on the CT scanner - but then it's over. No more
treatment. No more hospital appointments. No more drugs. The end of so much,
but the start of so much more.
I am one of the 20%.
It's sickening to think that 80% of women with ovarian cancer don't make it.
But I have. And I will. And I am so very, very lucky. I feel that I need to do
something worthwhile. I don't want to waste the opportunity I've been given. I
want to do everything I can to stay healthy, to remain a 20 percenter (yes, I
made that word up but it does the job). I want to grab every bull I come across
by the horns (not literally). But it is so very scary. I haven't even been out
in public since September. Well, I've been to Hopscotch (my local café) but
that's different. The biggest crowd I've been in has been the Oncology waiting
room at Guy's Hospital. Can I even have a conversation that doesn't involve
cancer symptoms? What will I say? What will I wear? Will my hair ever be long
enough for me to stop looking like a convict? I feel rather scared.
But my biggest
crisis of confidence is my new story. I've researched it. I've downloaded the
trial version of Scrivener (not yet convinced but willing). I've cut out
pictures. I've made notes. Have I started writing it? No, of course not. The
characters aren't yet real, but they're forming. The place is almost there.
Actually, it really is there; it's based on Wakehurst Place. The
plot line is coming together. I even have something of a sub-plot. I think I've
rinsed away the dregs of my last novel from my mind, leaving a sparkly, shiny
space for the new one. Yet I faff, and I sigh, and I dream, and I plan. When
will I make the leap from my head to the page? Do I wait for the characters to
speak to me? I don't think I should. I think it's only by nudging them onto the
page, reluctant and shy, that they really will take shape. Where I need to step gingerly into my new world, I think they need to do the
same. My characters and me, we're not so different. We need to be brave, we
need to be confident, but, above all, we just need to make a start.
Wonderful, wonderful post, Sue. I relate entirely. One does edge back into life, into society, slowly, carefully, but it's okay to take one's time in doing so. Starting your new story, is an excellent beginning. Just opening the screen and putting your fingers to the keyboard and walking the road into the first chapter together with your characters. It's wonderfully empowering, wonderfully liberating, wonderfully embracing of life! xxx
ReplyDeleteThank you! I may need you to hold my hand on occasion! x
DeleteEverything Nicky said. It is tough and you will get there but some days it will feel like you are going no where and other days where you feel life is going way to fast for you but you know you have the strength to deal with it. Look at what you have dealt with so far.
ReplyDeleteMaybe have a go at splurging your story, not really thinking about it just tipping words on to the 'page' and see what happens. It is one way of getting over that first hurdle of the blank page and where to start.
You are a truly inspirational woman and never forget that xxx
Just take one step at a time. You've already started . . .
ReplyDeleteIt sounds to me like you've made that start. Onwards and upwards in your own time. Sometimes baby steps are also giant strides.
ReplyDeleteTake care of yourself and come be a guest blogger on tall tales & short stories - I love reading and sharing inspirational posts.
Tracy x
Writing this blog is a huge step towards the future, Sue. The words you've put down here have shed light on a painful and frightening world a lot of us haven't experienced, so your words already have power and purpose. It's just a small step from here into the world of your novel. Deep breath, and just go for it. You've proved on this blog that you can do it, and I have the feeling that you'll find your writing voice will have changed these last few months, and it'll be stronger and clearer that ever before. And there'll be a big crowd of us out here, cheering you on. X
ReplyDeleteGood luck with the last treatment and the next book, Sue - from another 'twenty-percenter'. Malaika
ReplyDeleteYou have started on the path to recovery and you have started your new book - thinking is massively underated. There can't be too much thinking time.
ReplyDeleteTake your time and it will all happen.
We are all here with a helping hand if you need it. Don't be shy to ask for help.
Meanwhile enjoy yourself in some small way each day.
Chocolate is full of anti oxidants isn't it?
A very big hug and you are very brave and will make it with your writing as you have with everything else. x
ReplyDeleteSue, this brought tears to my eyes. A few years ago, I too was given an unexpected second chance at life, and I remember so keenly how determined I was that it should count for something... and yet how scared I was, too. If I can help in any way, please let me know. I admire your grace and courage so much, and I'm wishing you all the luck in the world.
ReplyDeleteEveryone else has said already - but yes, putting one foot in front of the other is all you need to do - and we're all out here holding our hands out to you. So sad there's an 80% who don't make it - don't have the words to begin to tell you how happy I am you're in the 20% xxx
ReplyDeleteWow Sue, really, really pleased about your incredibly good news. Good luck to both you and your new book, I'm sure once you put pen to paper or finger-tip to key board it will start flowing.
ReplyDeleteI really shouldn't write blog posts if all I'm going to do is cry when people comment! Thank you all for your kind thoughts! xx
ReplyDeleteYou should write more Blog posts like that because laughing and crying are two things that make the human species unique and wonderful! Isn't it when we cry a lot or laugh out loud that we feel most alive? At least it does for me.
ReplyDeleteIf I can echo what Pat Walsh wrote, many of us have not experienced the painful and frightening world, or journey perhaps, that you had to go through... But now you have tangibly received the gift of life, something that all of us experience the moment we come into this world, but we are so tiny and small then, that as time goes by we forget what that gift really is.
By sharing your thoughts on your Blog, you're sharing that renewed gift with us. Thank you ever so much...
Oh how wonderful, your answer to my post. To hear the name Mary Plain again - fantastic. I've never found any of these books since I read then in my children, so pleased they are still around, must look harder!
ReplyDeleteCarole, I was so proud when my daughter - then at primary school - had to make a puppet of her favourite children's book character and she chose Mary Plain. No one else had ever heard of her, of course, but we knew!
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