The Blues

The Other C-Word

On October 27, 2010, in Barrow Pushing, Family, Life, by Rosie

The month of October is considered cancer awareness time. I think we give the prick too much attention, to be honest. How dare this insidious, conniving condition be given an entire month to bask in its awareness, making it into media all over the world, frightening people so much that they might forget the joys of living.

But only if they let it. Only if we let it.

It’s important that we have an awareness month, of course. Just as it’s probably vital to have newspaper articles reminding us to take fish oil, magazine features highlighting the importance of breast checks, radio items that extol the virtue of prostate health.

Like everyone in the universe, I hate cancer. I detest its sneaky methods and back-door entrances into a body. I can’t stand how it chooses its host as a hungry parasite might select the warmest blood on a bush walk. I abhor that it doesn’t differentiate — the elderly, the fit, the woman in the coffee shop, Sally’s dad, Peter’s brother, my old teacher, your grumpy neighbour, even Blackie, the old labrador has a freaking tumour. And then the worst atrocity in this war with a faceless enemy: the child.

When the C-word decides to detonate and we find that we ‘lose someone’ to the ravages of the disease, we start to take the view that this bloody condition has taken something of MINE. I’ll scream my hate of it to the four corners of the universe … and often, in our grief, we do.

My sister’s illness gave me something, though, but it’s taken almost three years to get to the point where I’ll admit it. That’s only because I sometimes wonder where we’d all be now (and that includes all my sibs, my parents, the extended fam) if Lea hadn’t been judged ‘cancerous’. And really, who knows how very long the miserable parasite had been there? Perhaps it was fated to appear at a time where we all needed to learn something profound. Something else.

To say that cancer gave us strength is ludicrous. Firstly, I’m only speaking for myself. Secondly, it was Lea’s experience, not mine — how the hell could I feel we got stronger when the condition weakened my sister? However! Cancer told us what was important as bluntly as if the Creator had come down, grabbed a cuppa in the kitchen and said ‘you guys better start working together, loving, supporting, showing strength in numbers, not take each other for granted … because hey?’

I’ve always thought myself lucky to be from a close family, but cancer taught me about the ties that really bind. It was like a light had been shown on an arena of life, highlighting our strengths, bolstering our weaknesses. If you felt inept during some phase of the time (for instance, I don’t do Christmas shopping in a crisis) someone would take the lead and you’d use your talent elsewhere. It was collaborative. It was inclusive, but those on the periphery either came to the fore, or drifted further into their own lives. It didn’t really matter.

Her condition gave us perspective. I’d been skewed by the importance of money, appearances, of what I should be doing. I couldn’t wait for things, always wanting boring times to fly by — Lea’s illness reminded me that each moment is precious and living in the present is achievable. If you wish time away, it’s gone.

Cancer gave us the best of days. The worst of days. How bizarre to find joy among the suffering — laughing over her university excellence, massive holidays by the coast where we chatted and lolled about and tried to force her into being ‘outdoorsy’. Sister’s day of a Friday where she would try to get all the attention. Pizza and pub nights, happy hours, foot massages, jigsaws, art, paper frigging mache, saying stuff and meaning it, using every available moment. Not sweating the small things.

Ridiculous that it took watching the effects of the ‘other C-word’ for me to realize that it’s never too soon to live your best life. To drop the bullshit and pretense and facades of youth, to live fully. I will never be thankful for that time, but I will always be thankful for the time.