Day 3 - Clouds overhead

Poetry Prompt: a 31 day poem writing challenge. This has given me the impetus to write the story of my dance with renal cell carcinoma. It contains snapshots of life lived on death row which I hope will give insight into how the dying cope with daily chemotherapy and the knowledge that death is on its way. This follows the poem and reading one or both is optional. 

I welcome questions and comments although they will be removed if they demonstrate an unkind disposition. 

PROMPT: What brings sweetness into your life? Are you a chocolate lover or a Candy Crush junkie? Perhaps sweet food isn't your thing. What else is sweet to you? What are your indulgences?

WORD PROMPTS: 

• sweet
• candy
• sugar
• indulgence

Life seemed so sweet,

Each day an indulgence 

A merciful gift

Seemingly endless

Like long summer days.

Cast out of my Eden

Pain searing my being, 

Burning my mind. 

Obliterating all but

The scream of my senses.

Life had been hard

At times unbearable

But I had survived

After the bitter

Came times sugar sweet.

Waves of hot liquid

Flooding my body

Pouring in waves

Washing away all

But unbearable pain.

Life didn't speak

It swore and it shreeked,

Candied days terminal

Now for the testing 

The darkness descends.

So there I was in the middle of the night, saturated in sweat, nightclothes and bedding soaked, shaking with the shock of the sudden mind numbing intensity of pain, haunted by the thought that I might be dying. Alone with my fears, unable to call on either of my parents for help I was unwilling to disturb my husband and son who were in our own home. They had lost sleep often recently due to the problems with dad and his night wandering. This reluctance to trouble others and reach for help was something that the traumas of the following years brutally altered. However, on that June night, I was on my own.

Fortunately,as a psychotherapist,  I know some pretty effective tools for calming myself down and I am Mrs. Cool in a crisis, a jelly when it is all over. The edge had been taken off the pain by breathing into it and lifting myself away from it mentally. When the worst had passed, I cleaned myself up, changed my bedding and my nightwear, having cleaned and although the pain was still there it was manageable with a couple of paracetamol. The blood flow had diminished from a flood to a trickle so I was sure I was not about to bleed out.

I wrapped myself up in the duvet and with thoughts of death and dying on my mind. I used a system called Emotional Freedom Technique to calm myself down and let go of the fear. Exhaustion and the calming effects of EFT made it easy to drift off into a very deep sleep. I still do not know how I got through that night without calling for help but at some level I knew that it was not the time of my parting from this life, but it certainly felt like it.

The morning saw me back on the appointment treadmill starting with my GP. The feeling of being totally wiped out never really went away after that. I put on my usual cloak of invisibility and told no one until I had been to the doctor.

That habit of secrecy and the desire to protect stayed with me until I found I could no longer protect anyone, let alone myself, from the truth. The tendency came from my mother who was always the carer but seldom allowed herself to be cared for and from her fear of hurting anyone which lead to a life long habit of secrecy. That was all to change. 

I am sorry that this is being delivered a day late but the side effects of my many medications made yesterday a somewhat challenging one physically. However, today has been a better day so here we are.