It’s the day before treatment and all through the house, no-one should speak of it it, not even my spouse (to be). We all know that this topic is off limits until I start the active complaining stage. Until now I’ve been in the active denial stage.

It’s been almost three months since my last chemo infusion and a lot has happened in that time. For my liver. For my body. But not for my bowel cancer. Not a thing has been done about my bowel cancer in three months and I am increasingly aware that this now needs to be addressed. Sidenote: everyone needs a break from chemo at some stage. It is essential for both physical and mental recovery.

I’ve written and spoken so much about the bitter pill that is chemotherapy that it almost feels like straight-up whining. I keep coming back to the reconciliation of its cancer killingness against its poisonous nature. Don’t even get me started on the possibility of it no longer being able to kill the cancer. We’ve been down that path before and the concept of weeks of shitty treatment for no gain whatsoever just seems like unintentional cruelty.

A beautiful friend died last week. Out of the blue, she is gone. She was kind, generous, and full of love for her friends and family. She was one of the first people to learn of my diagnosis and has since described herself as my “loudest cheerleader”. We had spoken openly about my fears and treatment in such a way that would see us both tearful by the end of the conversation. It breaks my heart to think about that now. How naive we can be about these short lives we live.

Every bone in my body is screaming at me to avoid that fucking chair and drip tomorrow morning. But I will harness my friend’s silent cheers and get my sorry arse there tomorrow: rain, hail or vomit. I will turn up for treatment tomorrow because she didn’t even get the opportunity. And I will try and show up with grace and acceptance because it makes me feel resilient and empowered to do so.

Do not judge me by my successesjudge me by how many times I fell down and got back up again.” Nelson Mandela

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5 thoughts on “The day before…

  1. Thinking of you tonight and tomorrow and I will say a little prayer (that would even make Sister Monica proud of me – despite the fact I’m an entrant in her ‘black book’ and haven’t prayed since I kicked a netball through a window). Im sorry to hear about your friend ❤️ stay strong for her.

  2. Kristie, sad for you that you have lost a wonderful friend. Keep strong over the coming weeks. Thanks for the Mandela quote. A good reminder for us all! Cheers Brian

    Sent from my iPhone


    • I’m sorry about your dear friend. And I’m sorry that this is happening to you. I feel so grateful at your honesty and Thankyou for sharing.
      I hope it goes better than you expect.
      Much love,
      Julie Jones née Ross

  3. My warrior sys, just one step at the time!!. It doesn’t matter if you feel weak, strong, powerful or even afraid, live it consciously. Always with you despite the distance and sending you all the positive energy, because every day is being a battle, do not give up because I decree that you will be victorious. I love you yesterday, today and always. Your chilean syster😉😘

  4. Grace and acceptance are your middle names Gibbo! I hope today goes better than expected and we will be thinking of you as always. So sorry that you have lost a dear friend on top of everything – it seems so unfair. You are amazingly strong and resilient and will fly over this next hurdle! With our love xx

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