A few days ago I was at a little store here on The Big Island and the sales lady told me she was an 18-year cancer survivor and that she had fought it for nine years before she got through it. I don’t know what kind of cancer she had or what stage it was. “Don’t give up,” she told me. Her advice has stayed with me. When I get that swelling around the brain and start throwing up every few seconds and can’t stand upright and end up in the hospital, sometimes I wonder, Is it worth it to continue? But talking with another survivor certainly helps and offers hope.
This little cove on The Big Island is such a healing, gentle place. I am at the beach now, the sun is out, and the colors of the water are stunning — a soft sea-glass green, aquas, turquoise, then a deep calm blue and lavender farther out. The sand seems to glow with the warmth of the light. The vegetation is vivid green, and the flowers are brilliant. I plan to sketch palm trees today in their tall grace. Birds are singing; I think they are mostly house wrens, although there are three brightly-colored parrots near the cafe with their wings clipped, I believe. They seem to resent their captivity greatly and shriek like chimps. There are a few half-grown cats near the cafe also — probably from the same litter — and diners feed them scraps. I saw one of these graceful kitties on the beach last night from our lanai on the fifth floor. Maybe the parrots are watching those kittens grow up beneath their tree and getting nervous.
The water is quite warm and we go in almost every day, although I tend to list to the left from the effects of brain surgery. I can do a sort of frog paddle/breast stroke with splayed fingers. It feels good to swim and the cove is usually calm.
Of course, surviving cancer isn’t about not “giving up.” If that were true, we’d have a lot more survivors. Sometimes the body just can no longer deal with the invasion or we run out of medical options. One of the hardest things for me to consider is that I may have outlived my usefulness on earth. Hopefully some more physical therapy will help my hand. I am keeping up with my hand exercises here. My neurosurgeon said the brain takes a long time to heal. And patience — especially with myself — has never been my strong suit. So we will see how this year goes. Hope there are not too many errors in this post typed with one hand.
