Chemo seems surreal these days. And yet the neuropathy lingers on. I can live with it. I am immensely grateful to be here. But here is my question. Can I still learn to Tango if I can’t feel some of my toes? I’d really like to. It’s been on my bucket list forever…
Those of you who know me are probably already sick of my whingeing. ‘Do it already,’ I can hear you say. You are right. I am the world’s worst procrastinator. Despite my years of dancing, I have grown lazy. Excuses are easy in these challenging Covid times. The third wave is definitely not something to ignore and I don’t plan to. I am on a new mission however and for this, the neuropathy needs to go!
Moving to the countryside meant finding a new doctor to trust. I do have a few already and that’s a major breakthrough, considering my white coat syndrome. So I did some research. There are many local GPs. But I was looking for THE one. I googled, asked for advice from the locals and mulled over the list. I drove around the area and peeped through windows at a few practices. Just as I was getting myself totally confused, the word ‘integrative’ popped into my subconsciousness. And there, a stone’s throw away from where I live, was the exact person I needed. Dr J. A superbly qualified young woman, with wisdom way beyond her years, has taken me on.
That’s how I find myself on a no nonsense major detox. For a month! My body is being flooded with veggies, herbs and bucket loads of vitamins. Brisk daily walks are compulsory, even in the rain. Ozone therapy once a week and regular appointments with the doc, will keep me on track. The real carrot though, is shedding the neuropathy (hopefully) and signing up for Tango lessons in the not too distant future. I haven’t googled classes just yet though. One step at a time, yes? After all I am a C rather than an A-type.
The light really did appear at the end of the tunnel. Three month check ups have now turned into twice yearly ones. I continue to push fear away (often) and live my life out loud. My cancer journey has ended. No, I don’t have any absolute guarantees. But then life doesn’t come with any, anyway. Sadly, the Covid journey has escalated once again. And despite being in the right age category, I have not yet been jabbed. Yes, I have tried the ‘walk in’ approach. Twice. Now I’ll simply wait my turn, with everyone else. I wouldn’t want to jump the queue and take someone else’s well deserved spot.
I promised to emerge once my cancer journey was over. Little did I know that Covid had other plans. As I said before, life doesn’t come with guarantees. And yet I can feel creativity re-awakening within me and all around me. Our Spring will come, even if it is delayed by loss and grieving for loved ones gone too soon.
Once again, the solstice is behind us and although winter is still ahead the light coming in brings the promise of new life. Pockets of Arum lilies are popping up all over my new garden. I miss my Jasmine bush for so many reasons. It should be budding even now, for the new owners to enjoy. And there are no Nasturtiums in my new heaven either. But there is every kind of bird species you can imagine and I need my birding friend to come for an educational visit!
Xena and Archie have already claimed their spots at the fire. A wintery afternoon is stretching ahead and Archie is expecting to curl up in my knitting. I haven’t decided what to do with the yellow blanket gone wrong. Hmmm… to unpick or not.
A basket of garden produce is perched on the kitchen counter. Detox dinners don’t have to be tasteless and I can feel new recipes brewing. There’s still plenty of time though. Perhaps I could just google Tango lessons in the Overberg first…