Isn’t life just like that? When the news was bad, I thought I was finished, that there wasn’t going to be any good news for me again. But I was wrong. And when things are going along great, I feel on a roll, that nothing bad can happen to me. But those things swing, pendulum like, through my life. However, I had never been hit with a life-threatening condition. I lived a healthy life, exercised, ate well, looked great. I felt immune.
A friend of mine would call this “magical thinking.” But really, illusions have their value. They protect me from so much reality that I can’t live fully in the present. Possibly that positive thinking acts as a kind of protection, like vitamins. But now I can’t pretend I can protect myself. I feel a little like the way I felt when I brought my son home after a perfectly normal birth: vulnerable in a new, irreparable way. I’d never be safe the same way again.
I said I’d only take half an hour for this project but I am taking more. This one took about an hour. I don’t like it much. Maybe I’ll try this again with watercolor. Beginnings are usually discouraging for me. I usually am appalled by what I produce. But I have done this kind of thing for many years and I’ve learned that to do anything worthwhile, I just have to start doing something awful. I’ve pledged four or five entries–art or poetry–a week for a year, but even if I just did three, that’s 150 small creations, and they just can’t all be bad!
This pastel piece looks darker than it is. I tweaked it on PhotoShop. I gave a similar set of paperwhite bulbs to a friend for Christmas. I wonder how HIS are coming along!
I decided to log my experience. I began my log soon after my first lumpectomy–waiting in pre-op had driven me nuts. I couldn’t watch tv or talk to my good friend Judy who was there to hold my hand, and, as it turned out, be my witness to events no one believed until we both swore they happened. So when it turned out I needed a second lumpectomy plus the removal of who knew how many underarm nodes, I bought something to write in. It turned out that writing kept me calm. I just went on and on describing what was happening, what I was hearing, feeling, fearing, and otherwise dealing with. It was a lifesaver for me.
So find here my story. It may take me some time to write it all down, but I was so hungry to find answers to my many questions, and the experience was for me so full of surprises and unexpected challenges, that I thought I might share it here. If you know someone who might find it interesting or beneficial, please clue them in.