As we bid farewell to another week and get ready to welcome in a new one, I’m reflecting on the last 7 days. There are moments of effortlessness in my week – some activities feel simple and I almost question if I have an illness. Others, are fucking brutal. I won’t dress it up for you. Who knew that any human could endure moments of such pain and despair.
Wednesday was a chemo session at the Cancer Centre London. I sat on the bed as I got up and had no clue as to which part of me would drag myself to the hospital. I felt in despair. Maybe I’m not tough enough for this. Maybe I don’t have enough drive in me. I cannot face being sat in that chair, having my PICC line cleaned and yet more drugs pumped into my poor body. I now wonder about the aspect of myself that got me there, some depth of spirit and will kicked in … and I went. A part of myself does believe I can go through this adventure.
As I sat in the chair having my line cleaned, I knew something was not quite right. My world suddenly spun. The room was filled with blazing white light. I couldn’t make out faces. Boom. As I started to wake up I was aware of about 6 nurses and doctors around me, screens up to mask the drama, Kelly had been whisked away, I had an oxygen mask on and the nurse firmly called my name. My BP dropped to 70/51. None of us know exactly what happened; dehydration, maybe my body can’t take the intensive chemo, they tested for a heart attack (which was negative) but Kelly said it was the longest 15 minutes of her life waiting to hear if I had pulled through. My 2.5hr visit to have treatment ended up being 7hrs. I gotta say though, the nurses and doctors there are bloody brilliant. So much kindness, attention, attunement and commitment. I finally left with Kelly at 7pm – tired and, at the same time, deeply stirred by the love I had just received.
I know as a family this week, we deepened our connection to crystals & their healing. Our dear friend Kate Rush bought tigers eye jewellery for me, Kelly & Mia to wear to ensure we feel in even connection to each other, even when we are apart – and we have all pulled on the courage and energy it has given us this week. My healer Edwin Courtenay gifted me a programmed piece of Sugilite, which never leaves my side and our friend Nicci Roscoe sent Kelly & I a beautiful package of crystals that specifically help with chemotherapy, physical & emotional wellbeing (shown in the picture). If you want to contact her about these & other crystals then please visit her website (www.thecrystalhealer.co.uk)
The swell of love leads me neatly into this fundraiser. Kelly, Mia and myself are totally blown away by your generosity. I am rarely short of words but this leaves me scrabbling around to find something to say. I am humbled. You have each touched me. I see the vastness of £2000 donations and I see the tenderness in £5. Even Mia’s friends have waited to get their weekly pay to then add to the fund. I have struggled to allow love in for the past 49 years – I am learning to catch up now. Little and often. We are certain we will smash the £40k target and are starting to look at what we will do next… because if we can raise this amount in just one week – I’m sure we can do more and help many others!
After 4 weeks of not wanting to write anything, I am starting to rekindle that connection with myself. The pens will be out this week. I want to begin capturing my musings and thoughts. My head and heart are bursting as I walk this path. And yet I want to hold onto an intimacy with myself and allow my writing to be a deeply personal reflection.
I struggle to express my gratitude to each of you. Thank you, truly. You cannot understand the magnitude of what you have given to me and my family.
Go well, Richard x