So this new state of reflectiveness in the main is a nice change for me. Except at night. Night time poses this big loooooooong stretch of time when with no distractions your thoughts can travel in many directions - not all of them good. So small little setbacks take on disproportionate impact. My underarm where the drainage tube was, has swollen up like a big fat half a football ball. It is called a seroma and is a pocket of clear serous fluid that can develop after surgery. When blood vessells are ruptured, blood plasma seeps out. Inflammation caused by the dying injured cells contributes to the fluid. And it means I just dont sleep much. It is hot and burning and makes me walk like a gym junkie, in that I cant hang my left arm naturally down my side. My arm is curved like the letter C. It sticks out over the swelling. This is both expected and temporary and I will go to Peter Mac on Monday to have it drained. But at night....in the stillness of night, it hurts and I cant sleep and I think...enough. Make it stop. I am not a fan of nights at the moment. And this song captures that beautifully.
Nonetheless, the theraputic value of a good cry is well documented. And I know that these occassional maudlin days will strike but they also will pass.
Do you remember those old blow-up beach-balls that you used to have as a kid - panels of different colours of white, red, blue and green. Now I don't know if you ever tried it as a kid, but in the pool in our back yard in Williamstown, I would try and push an inflated beach-ball under the water, all the way to the bottom so that I could stand on it. Invariably, due to both my lack of co-ordination and strength and a little physics thingy called the law of gravity, it would ensure that the beach-ball would shoot right back up with quite some force, break through the water's surface and there it would bob.
For the most part my natural resilience strongly resembles such a beach-ball. The cancer and the treatment process of it, is trying to push my beach-ball to the bottom of the pool. But it has its own will and it will naturally find its way to the surface again. This winter of 2013 looms before me full of long days and nights of feeling poorly and not in control. But it will pass and the natural order of things will be restored. For me, that order includes being able to sing along to music not seeking any deeper meaning than just joyful expression and for me there is no better song in the entire world than this.
Version 1 is the Il Globos - a Melbourne cult band of the 80's - which I should add, I can sing almost word perfect.....
and Version 2, the original version for you purists out there!!!
Ciao Bella
Kellyxxx
Saturday, 18 May 2013
My Chemical Romance
Good Morning Lovers of Music,
Its been seven days since being told that it wasn't going to be the straight forward process that I had hoped. On Tuesday Peter Mac called to say that chemo will begin on the second last day of autumn , May 30th. For much of Tuesday night and Wednesday night, my natural buoyancy temporarily deserted me. Siobhan and I both struggled through what was a tough day of reflection and doubts. For the first time this whole saga seemed frighteningly real.
I found that listening to music, even songs that was even vaguely about life and death incredibly evocative. Thus I have avoided playing music of late. I was mopping and polishing the floors on Wednesday (By the way peoples, So much for the (No Housework for Her, She has Cancer Rule - pppffftt!!!) when 774 played a live version of Hunters and Collectors "Throw Your Arms Around Me", on John Faine's program (or as a friend likes to call it - The Voice of Balwyn - ouch). I have heard that song many times but this time I was so moved, I could have washed the floors using my own tears!
Most of you who know me well, know that I am a practical and rational human being whose modus operandi when faced with a problem, is to dissect, examine options, develop a solution and then implement - whether its a work problem or fixing a door. I tend to be more of a "cut to the chase", rather than a "let's workshop this" kinda gal.I am very outcome focused. Some of my more questionable home handy repairs are testimony to this approach.....but it is the way I am. So it has also come as somewhat of a surprise that I am 'enjoying' a more reflective approach to all things possibly due to this cancer stuff.
Case in point. The sight of the extremely beautiful and imposing athelete Majak Daw rising up against Nic Natananui for the centre bounce of North v Westcoast on Friday night almost brought me to tears at what this means for many of our younger recent arrivals to Australia, particularly those from African nations. And also for how it will shift the limited and bigoted views of many racists when inclusion and acceptance is served up through the filter of sport to even the most hardened bogan.
It was a good good thing indeed.
So this new state of reflectiveness in the main is a nice change for me. Except at night. Night time poses this big loooooooong stretch of time when with no distractions your thoughts can travel in many directions - not all of them good. So small little setbacks take on disproportionate impact. My underarm where the drainage tube was, has swollen up like a big fat half a football ball. It is called a seroma and is a pocket of clear serous fluid that can develop after surgery. When blood vessells are ruptured, blood plasma seeps out. Inflammation caused by the dying injured cells contributes to the fluid. And it means I just dont sleep much. It is hot and burning and makes me walk like a gym junkie, in that I cant hang my left arm naturally down my side. My arm is curved like the letter C. It sticks out over the swelling. This is both expected and temporary and I will go to Peter Mac on Monday to have it drained. But at night....in the stillness of night, it hurts and I cant sleep and I think...enough. Make it stop. I am not a fan of nights at the moment. And this song captures that beautifully.
Nonetheless, the theraputic value of a good cry is well documented. And I know that these occassional maudlin days will strike but they also will pass.
Do you remember those old blow-up beach-balls that you used to have as a kid - panels of different colours of white, red, blue and green. Now I don't know if you ever tried it as a kid, but in the pool in our back yard in Williamstown, I would try and push an inflated beach-ball under the water, all the way to the bottom so that I could stand on it. Invariably, due to both my lack of co-ordination and strength and a little physics thingy called the law of gravity, it would ensure that the beach-ball would shoot right back up with quite some force, break through the water's surface and there it would bob.
For the most part my natural resilience strongly resembles such a beach-ball. The cancer and the treatment process of it, is trying to push my beach-ball to the bottom of the pool. But it has its own will and it will naturally find its way to the surface again. This winter of 2013 looms before me full of long days and nights of feeling poorly and not in control. But it will pass and the natural order of things will be restored. For me, that order includes being able to sing along to music not seeking any deeper meaning than just joyful expression and for me there is no better song in the entire world than this.
Version 1 is the Il Globos - a Melbourne cult band of the 80's - which I should add, I can sing almost word perfect.....
and Version 2, the original version for you purists out there!!!
Ciao Bella
Kellyxxx
So this new state of reflectiveness in the main is a nice change for me. Except at night. Night time poses this big loooooooong stretch of time when with no distractions your thoughts can travel in many directions - not all of them good. So small little setbacks take on disproportionate impact. My underarm where the drainage tube was, has swollen up like a big fat half a football ball. It is called a seroma and is a pocket of clear serous fluid that can develop after surgery. When blood vessells are ruptured, blood plasma seeps out. Inflammation caused by the dying injured cells contributes to the fluid. And it means I just dont sleep much. It is hot and burning and makes me walk like a gym junkie, in that I cant hang my left arm naturally down my side. My arm is curved like the letter C. It sticks out over the swelling. This is both expected and temporary and I will go to Peter Mac on Monday to have it drained. But at night....in the stillness of night, it hurts and I cant sleep and I think...enough. Make it stop. I am not a fan of nights at the moment. And this song captures that beautifully.
Nonetheless, the theraputic value of a good cry is well documented. And I know that these occassional maudlin days will strike but they also will pass.
Do you remember those old blow-up beach-balls that you used to have as a kid - panels of different colours of white, red, blue and green. Now I don't know if you ever tried it as a kid, but in the pool in our back yard in Williamstown, I would try and push an inflated beach-ball under the water, all the way to the bottom so that I could stand on it. Invariably, due to both my lack of co-ordination and strength and a little physics thingy called the law of gravity, it would ensure that the beach-ball would shoot right back up with quite some force, break through the water's surface and there it would bob.
For the most part my natural resilience strongly resembles such a beach-ball. The cancer and the treatment process of it, is trying to push my beach-ball to the bottom of the pool. But it has its own will and it will naturally find its way to the surface again. This winter of 2013 looms before me full of long days and nights of feeling poorly and not in control. But it will pass and the natural order of things will be restored. For me, that order includes being able to sing along to music not seeking any deeper meaning than just joyful expression and for me there is no better song in the entire world than this.
Version 1 is the Il Globos - a Melbourne cult band of the 80's - which I should add, I can sing almost word perfect.....
and Version 2, the original version for you purists out there!!!
Ciao Bella
Kellyxxx
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