Thursdays have become full, navel gazing days. Sorry, I should say personal growth days. A day when I focus on both my mind and body to get well, or at least better, from past misadventures.
OK, so what's with the mind, you might ask. Just very briefly, I have had what some people call: an interesting, or eventful, or amazing life. Oh yeah? Well, if you can call losing a twin sister in war, escaping from a revolution, being raped, beaten, and who knows what else by spouses and others, etc, etc. Yes, I have had an interesting life. I don't talk about it normally, but the fact is that I have had many episodes that engendered post traumatic stress - the nightmares, the fears, the ruminations (that's what it's called, I am told, when your mind goes round and round with the old stuff). Yes, I've learned to cope and got on with life. Or did I? Since my brother died last December, some of the old ruminations have resurfaced and with the constant reporting of events in Syria and what's happening with the children there, some old scars from being a child refugee and stateless person for 16 years have also reopened.
One day, I just had enough.
'Isn't it enough that I have cancer, I now have to revisit all this crap too?' I cried into the emptiness of my apartment. I realised that, in order to deal with my metastatic breast cancer (official diagnosis now), I will have to lay the past to rest, or I won't cope. So, I took my own advice to my mother, whom I tried to get to see someone in the 1980s to deal with her Holocaust trauma, and referred myself to STARTTS, the NSW Service for the Treatment and Rehabilitation of Trauma and Torture Survivors. I am now going through Cognitive Behaviour Therapy (CBT). It's kind of interesting in an intellectual way, but am not too keen on having to write down how I feel, what I think, etc. I mean how do I know? It passes and I forget. Maybe that's how I coped before, just putting it out of mind. How do you undo a lifetime of habits that worked, but apparently now don't work as well? A conundrum
So, now to the body part. I have my session with the psychologist at 10am and then at noon I go to the new and fantastic Chris O'Brien Lifehouse, where Michael, the exercise physio, puts me through my paces in cardio exercises to improve my strength and balance. It's much more pleasant than the psycho stuff, but since I hate the gym, it's still a challenge.
Tomorrow is Thursday, but it will be different. I will go for the CBT, but at noon I will be facing The Professor to learn how my cancer is doing. I am not looking forward to it. I haven't been feeling very well for the past couple of weeks. The pain in my joints is getting worse and now I also have pain in the chest area. I haven't gone to the emergency to check whether it's a heart attack, because I have so many aches and pains that I am pretty sure it isn't. How do I know? Well, of course I don't, but I've been doing chest muscle strengthening exercises, among the many others, so it stands to reason that they are probably screaming for me to let them be.
Nevertheless, I am a cautious madam and have a long list of grievances and questions I take with me to the Prof. I'll spare you the details for now, but will report in my next missive.
