October is raining. As if this year was not so much “pink”, as in the last few… It even made me bitter at times, honestly… Especially when the slogans are raised – not in a wedge, up our sleeve – people, who have no idea what it is about, but podvat … some stuff…, about which I am not told. And, pink or not much, October will always have a special place in my mind. I hope in the public as well. I decided, that it is time to share part of the experience “I have breast cancer”, not for another, but to remind thinking people, that no one and nothing can make you feel like a victim, if you don't allow it yourself.
I dedicate this story to everyone, welcomed the disease with dignity.
I had to write a story. Mine. This is not just a story, however. It became imperceptibly a story of angels. Otherwise, this is life – running a step away from you, which you read. And don't look away, just because it's cancer. It is important to know what is happening to others and I hope you do not squint confidently, leaning on the cliché, that it will not happen to you… Stay sensitive!
*
Бях щастливо дете. And somehow not childishly sad, simultaneously. I think, that I was born with a sense of the transience of all that is good. I covered my grief flawlessly with friendliness and diligence to please everyone. I only poured it into the fragile ones, clumsy verses, which almost no one, except me, did not read. In time, the verses became “were able to” and sadder. Who will read you sad verses? And I write, I write. Instead of really living them…
That's how I rushed into my life – she narrowed her eyes to the good and was almost brave in the face of sadness. Гола, wounds, with a red notebook, like a prayer book in front of my chest. I arranged it somehow, of life – family, house, children, Work, friends… At first glance, everything. I almost believed it, that I have met the world's expectations of me. Without remembering to ask the world for anything for myself. I had not been taught this… I raised my children with love and diligence. Blessings, despite fears. Shy, almost inconvenience, I raised dreams. Some I achieved. Others – not… But that dragon, sadness, she had become a monster. When I decided to run away from her, it was too late. Погълна ме като троха. I understood it when I hit my forehead against the wall – CRAB!
*
I stand straight in the corridor of a hospital, my shoes are tight (I'm done), my coat weighs on my shoulders, my soul is here somewhere… On my face – dried tears – my ones, of the doctor, who first saw the tumor – I do not know. In front of my eyes – window, it is snowing behind him – equally, quiet, as in a fairy tale.
I'm waiting for a friend - a doctor - to be released, to tell me, that is not true, to calm me down, that there is nothing scary, to swear to me, that it doesn't hurt, to believe for me, that there will be tomorrow. Първият ангел – savior of my way. I'm waiting for him, resignedly and reconciled. I don't believe in the other. And he, instead of pounding me, took, that he gritted his teeth to follow me immediately… in white, in nothing, in the hospital, where they treat cancer. Five days later, I realized what it was like to die. There is no description of this experience… I hear, I can barely see, but I have no sense of myself. Just some senses, sensitive to everything on top. Someone is whispering to me (does he really whisper?) enthusiastically “…it's me! our girl woke up”.
Helen… (thought?!) My girlfriend, who hid her gorgeous blue sweater under a white apron. well yes, he is a doctor… Brother, they seemed to be doing something to me… Dark! I hear voices and begin to recognize them. God, I am so tired! The voices press. That one, where it bobs, is the voice of a friend – doctor, which made me follow him…
*
CHRYAS! I'm awake! I understand everything and warm up where I am. I'm trying to say something, but I do not hear my voice. Strange, around they hear it and respond. How does it work? I am sleepy. Fall asleep. A moment before that I was wondering if it hurt and I am so grateful, that not me… I don't feel anything. Terrifying nothing… Morning. The window let the morning into a room, full of doomed bodies… Wow, what a number he just tailored in the morning, that filthy window! Not fair! The morning is beautiful, despite the unfair circumstance, that I am tied to a machine, which pulls something from me.
Вече съм в пълно съзнание и разполагам с безброй причини да се чувствам щастлива: we have, nothing hurts me, the children are collected, I'm in no hurry to work, I don't go crazy with horror, that I will not succeed with the reports, I paid my loan, no one is waiting for me in a hurry… The latter is not a cause for happiness, but I have not yet reached this insight. Silence… and timelessness… A car stops on the street, jingle dishes and an unceremonious and annoying voice screaming: ONCO- O-O! They bring food for the doomed. И тях ли… и нас do they feed us???
Then the film spins at a faster speed. People, white aprons, green cotton operating suits, smells of blood and alcohol – nightmare! I'm so exhausted that it doesn't even occur to me to run away. I walk around with my eyes, that's all I can do… A woman is lying on the next bed. It looks like these, where the beloved and ubiquitous grandmother of the family plays in the movies. It is very neat against the background of the hospital color. Quiet one, but with dignity, in which you can break your forehead.
I have a feeling, that she has done well. Сякаш иска да каже „ще запомните вие този ден”. I'm having chills. I can't see her eyes…, ie. I can not see. Why am I watching her? He shifts his gaze, and at that time… her yellow nightgown gets out of bed – Slow motion (my perceptions are still dreamy) and leaves the room.
Forever.
After a moment there is a rumbling in the corridor – frightened and chopped cries of helplessness. Death. Pulmonary embolism. Did I say, that there was something fateful in her silence…? Damn it, i hate to be right… He left us. He took off. Move. He slipped away… We were eaten by dogs, but she left life… It's chilling. A crying young woman walks around her empty bed - silently collecting things, which until recently were hers… (how it occurs to people to collect things… after such a loss?) I'm afraid! Mom… Do I have to take care of myself again? Even now?
It's a horrible feeling, that I have only myself… Чувствам се като на ешафод, unjustly accused and sentenced to death. Every moment can take my head away and this thought almost takes my breath away. Although, that… I saw how easy it is… What scares me so much? "No one flew." said my grandmother.
*
They said, that I have to "get up" today. Done! Just tell me you have to! Somehow I sit in bed. Like in a movie. Such joy overwhelms me when I see my slippers, as if they were winged. (Get me out of here, slippers!) I put steps in them, I hold on to a bandage, tied to the headboard of my bed, for support and … Mother, I `m right! I'm on the normal side again. My lungs fill with air, I take a step and… dark. I fainted. Normal. This happens after a few hours of surgery. Nothing. Next time more gently.
*
I `m right. It is upright, to be precise. I start automatically, though uncertainly, to the door. That one…, through which the woman with the yellow nightgown came out and left life. I tremble. I don't stop - despite the fear, the unknown, instinct. I still do not know, but actually, through this same door I enter the better half of my life. A friend is waiting for me outside - another angel! Savior! I am rewarded! Is it deserved?
*
From that moment on, I am a different person. Ракът започва да променя всичко в живота ми. It's as if I've self-cloned and I'm a whole chamber orchestra. Interesting, that the synchrony is absolute! A woman copes with the pain (pain!…), another controls fear, third - deals with many issues, which pop out like a popcorn machine, fourth - welcomes friends, who are all waiting for confirmation of their timid assumption, that I will not die, fifth - gathers courage, when the children come to visit, sixth - think! I fall for the sixth Women.
I have so many things to think about. While registering with inconvenience, that for me the visit practically does not end (I feel the reproachful looks, and they don't like each other much here…), my own voice echoes in my head, "Evgenio-o-o-o…, this goodness must be returned-a-a…"I only heard it once. (God, I'm with everyone?!) Or I saw him… but it is, how will you see your voice…? I do not know! It looked like a sign, as if to hear a usurper. Since then, that's all I do - I return the goodness. Every day. Everyone, who asked for it. And there is still… Like the pot of porridge from that favorite fairy tale.
Gradually I realize, that I am the main character in my own life. I guess I've never been and it's weird. The neighbor is looking at me, as if a third ear had struck me. She blacks me and I slap her, as a five-year-old kid. So where, to have at least something to tell when he enters the entrance… And the wooden stick is waiting for me, with which I do the exercises for movement. One half of me is like a stranger … This is the program for today. Tomorrow – radiation therapy. After month – chemotherapy. But why does this word choke me?, why does it sound like a "crematorium" to me? I love words. And this one freezes the blood in my veins. I don't think she loves me… CHEMOTHERAPY… And I am such a treasure…! Isn't someone going to do something?? Again the scaffold… I am not guilty … I wanted the most- good for everyone, I gave my best. I was not selfish, I did not take someone else's, I did not hurt deliberately, I'm not… Ugh, so I won't get her anywhere. Who cares what I didn't do?
I have cancer now.
This is the situation. The only way to overcome fear, is to leave him. I leave myself to him… And on my way – again angels! This time with white aprons, instead of white wings. Don't believe it, if they tell you, that there are no more people in our health system! In general, don't believe it, by telling you bad things about people.
*
Energetic, confident doctor. Her footsteps seem to strike a balance in the corridor of madness, called an oncology dispensary. No basma chains on anyone. I understand later, that even the cancer does not split basma. As I struggle with the urge to escape the doorstep of her office, she stands at the door and calls me by name. There is no movement. I don't even hear, nor do I see, I don't even see, that he is a true angel. He makes me tea, while searching for words, with which not to frighten me. I have loved tea ever since. I love her too. I also love the way, which he taught me to help. She knows, that the moment is special. For both of us. I - blue with fear, with the gaze of a child, motionless and heavy with all hope, which he accommodated. She is smart, sensitive, patient, but not to infinity. Discipline is a supreme virtue! While I tremble and snort, it shatters all my fears, arranges my days for half a year ahead and gives me the lead role. No I don't want to! I understand, that this disease requires character. If I'm going to stretch her, where. Otherwise it takes precedence and… walk, that he is chasing her. The moment is special for another reason - I have to decide if I want to live. I DECIDE AND IS RESPONSIBLE FOR MY LIFE! With this woman next to me, there is no way the disease can lead to the result. I know it and I'm kind of warm, for sure, thankfully. I'm ready for anything, so that she would believe me and not disappoint her. Then I understood, that she thought the same. How not to love her?!
Months are falling. The feeling is of stopped time, tasteless food, intrusive music, terrible smell of vitamin B, който те преследва навсякъде, heat. The narrow corridors of the hospital are bursting with despair. I'm not desperate, but I want it all over an hour sooner. I don't want anything else… E, this afternoon, answering a friend's questions, I actually realized, that it is over. I'm not in pain, I can walk, to return to my life from before… Do I really want to go back there?? I just want to get back to life.
I jump like a sting and tuck a ball of thick tights in place of the removed breast. Then I put on a tight blouse and … miracle! I'm the same again! I'm that Woman again, to which I never paid attention and did not even look in the mirror, so as not to touch the sadness in her eyes. Now I smile at her guiltily. I hope you forgive me! The monster is no longer sad. He swallowed me and choked. He must have died. I am the winner, the hero in the tale. I can and I am! I feel enlightened by my insights. I am at work from tomorrow! thank you, Lord! Thanks to! Колегите ме посрещат с малко пресилен възторг и зле прикрито любопитство. (What happens to people sometimes?) I concentrate on the enthusiasm and rush to prove myself. First track, the winner of cancer! I step in panic under the stealthily shot eyes. BUT, not..! I suggest to a curious person to show him what I have under my blouse, for he fails to take his gaze from my bosom. Ha, this is a novelty for me - to ironize and put people in their place, who do not bother to be sensitive. How fair! I feel relieved by the redness on his cheeks and emerge victorious from his office. What if he's my boss, it's a tree…
In the evening, I turn on the sixth woman and tell her to think. The picture in front of me clears up and I see more and more clearly how I ran head-on against cancer, lest he accidentally pass me by… On 36 I had no idea how important I was in my own life. Well, no one had told me understandably. Until now, I was constantly someone's daughter, wife, mother, girlfriend, employee, daughter-in-law, relative… – everything. But I did not belong to myself. I should have gotten that great card from London, on which Peppa had written very seriously, “you are just as important, as much as any of those, to whom you give yourself ”. It's like she's mad at me. And with the right!
Peppa is a confirmation of the catchphrase "do good and throw it into the sea, he will meet you someday. ” When I met her, nothing suggested, that he is an angel… I've been recognizing them unmistakably lately. Over time, they become more and more. I admit it, that I am struck by an electric shock from my own self-discovery. I am ashamed. And I'm especially involved - it lasts in pain, to shame - no. Ergo - no omission in this direction anymore! I'm starting to learn my lessons, though from the second time. Thanks to! With all my heart! I repeat my thanks, as much as I remember. There is always something to do.
On the street, a dark-skinned fellow citizen stops in a theatrical pose in front of me, he stares admiringly at my most feminine oval under his open coat and throws me a casual carriage compliment in the style of "evalla ma, how ”. I catch and everything falls into place. I run after the bus laughing. I got it! Continue! I love to laugh. I like to make others laugh. I think about others more and more often. I become addicted to what and how often I think about others.
Blessed addiction! I discover what happiness is.
*
I wanted, I had to tell this story, turned out to be extraordinary, because of the angels. That's how I got used to them, that I wish I was an angel to someone. So many people are suffering… So many people are lonely and unhappy… So many people need a shoulder… So many people need me, from you… Somewhere here I began to love my illness. Good is contagious. Blessed be the virus! Angels are people. We are angels…
*
I realize, that I always wanted to write this revelation. A piece of human experience, which is dormant as a hypothesis in everyone's life. Like the angel in us, който в нужния миг ще разтвори крила.
Evgenia Adarska
