Dreams

Two nights ago I woke up frightened by a dream I had just had. My heart was pounding, I was breathless, and had to go downstairs for a glass of water. I wished that someone had been awake to keep me company but the one couchsurfer who would have been awake at that time, has left. The dream involved me watching my own death but while that was strange enough, the frightening part was watching my body thrash about as it waited for (what seemed) my spirit to depart. On the other hand, it could have been that I hadn’t yet died and the thrashing about was me in my last throes of death. I remember clearly the smell of death, bodily fluids leaking, and the second me trying to cover the body and get it to lie still, trying to put some dignity back into death. But the body would not lie still and the first me would not die. Fortunately, I woke up then. Now, my “religious” (I’d rather say “believer”) friends might interpret this as a sign that we are more than flesh and blood, that there is an after-life and that it was indeed my soul that was troubled, perhaps at facing the less pleasant of the two paths we might take after death. I will admit that I did give this train of thought my full consideration once I had calmed down. I also thought back to what might have prompted this dream, writing – in my diary – every step of the dream before it faded away, and I think I understand most of why I had the dream. I believe that it was mainly prompted by the high level of stress I have experienced lately, worrying about family issues, my health, my lack of sleep due to lower back pain which spreads round the left side of my body to my lower stomach (I take a pain killer every four hours), worrying about taking pain killers and so on and so forth. Now, you might be saying, hang on, he is a coach, surely coaches don’t sit there worrying, they focus on the solution, not on the problem (you’ve heard me say it often enough)? And yes, you are right. However, I have had a general feeling of malaise lately that I cannot shake off and this has dominated my thinking processes and inhibited my ability to function. I simply do not have the energy to do much. I have, since getting home Sunday night, had random bursts of energy which do not last long and any human interaction that lasts longer than an hour has a big impact on me and it seems to take ages for me to recover my energy. I hate, and I repeat hate writing about this. In fact, this is the first blog that I am forcing myself to write and will have to force myself to publish. I prefer writing about positive issues, about positive dreams and aspirations, about strengths, not weaknesses, about moving towards something good, not away from whatever bad issue or place is behind me.

So, what is the solution, Mr. Coach? Well, in terms of energy, for starters, I am going to start popping Vicki’s magic pills that she so lovingly orders for me. They are natural vitamins and actually help (when you take them regularly). I am also going to start eating a proper breakfast and lunch every day. I think two waffles covered in (my now finished) speculoos (sugary-sweet sesame seed paste like peanut butter only available in Belgium, hint hint) for breakfast do not constitute an energy-creating most important meal of the day. A slice of toast for lunch is also not going to help despite the fact that I snack on seeds and nuts during the day. So, my diet (read nutrition, not weight-loss) needs attention and I actually went to Sainsbury’s yesterday evening with a more sensible head on my shoulders than before. I also intend getting out of the house even if it is as cold as it has been lately. I have not been exercising, mainly because I have not felt that I had the energy to do so, but this is more the reason for exercising...to break this malaise or feeling of lethargy, I need to get my body and mind working again and a walk or two will not kill me.

A friend wrote to me recently and among all the thought-provoking things she said, she spoke about the expression “what doesn’t kill you will make you stronger”. She had spontaneously used this expression in response to sympathy she had received from a neighbour recently. My friend decided that she does not like this expression and wondered why she used it so spontaneously. I use it too. In fact, I have adapted it in terms of my illness to something like: “if this doesn’t make me a better person, then nothing will!” But what am I saying? That I wasn’t a good person before I got diagnosed with cancer, or that we need some tragedy to make us better people? And in terms of the other expression, do we need bad things to happen to us to make us stronger? Can we not become better people just because that’s the way we should be anyway or do we need to have a clock ticking, warning us of our impending death before we kick our butts into action and start cleaning up our act? Something else people (and I) keep saying is, “well we’re all going to die some time; we could get hit by a bus, for example.” But do we think about what we’re saying, or do we just rattle off these expressions without a second thought?

Back to dreams. I noticed that one of my nieces has two dream-catchers in her room. You know, those hanging things that look like a spider’s web which apparently catch your dreams (and do what with them?). I wondered about them and thought about installing several in my loft to catch some of the bad dreams I have. The good dreams I’ll keep for myself, thank you very much, but the bad ones, the dream catcher can have.

Forget dreams, let me share some nice realities with you before you think that I have had an awful week and am ready to give up on life. Last week Wednesday, I took a bus to visit Adam’s wife and son, Vicki and Daniel. Now, I am not good with really young babies; I don’t know how to hold them and at the first sight of tears or vomit and I literally throw them back at their parents and leave on the next bus or train. So, I confess I was slightly pleased that little Daniel was asleep when I got there as that meant I wouldn’t have to worry about whether or not he would like me, or if he would cry or throw up or both. But before I left, Vicki took me upstairs to see if Daniel was awake and when we opened the door and his black-out blind, we found this gorgeous little creature lying on his side, holding his mobile in his cot, and beaming with a smile from ear to ear! Well, “slat my dood met 'n pap snoek” (slap me silly – knock me dead - with a wet snoek – a type of yummy South African fish) I was almost moved to tears. Yes, I’m such a girl! This little 6-month old baby was all smiles, no tears, no vomit and thanks to pampers that flex but do not leak (according to the advert), he even smelt nice! And smile and smile some more he did. For the entire time that I held him as best one can hold a rubbery child who can suck his own toes, or his mother threw him into the air (don’t parents realise that us non-breeders freak out when they do this no matter how much their kid might be gurgling and wetting him or herself with the pleasure of being thrown ceiling high? I mean what if you miss on the way down? Okay, I am exaggerating, in case any of you work for child protection!), he smiled or rather, he beamed. I even thought, gosh, I want one of my own now, and I haven't thought that in ages! Anyway, Daniel’s big smiles have lived in my heart all this week and when things have been tough, I have remembered that shy, friendly, almost adult-like smile...like he knew something we didn’t...that he gave his mom and I. What a blessing. If I knew how to put a photo into this blog, I would put one up of him smiling. Other nice moments include the lovely food my family cooks (I am really lucky to come from a family that knows how to eat well and cooks accordingly), the spontaneous visits from Rob and Alex who both keep me and my couchsurfers entertained, evenings around the table with my couchsurfers, various visitors I’ve received or people whom I have visited. If I were to name you all, it would take a while.

Update on the cancer: I am seeing my oncologist on Monday. At this appointment he will give me the results of my last scan and make the decision about the chemotherapy. You all know how I feel about that so I won’t repeat myself. I will let you all know on Monday evening how that goes but don’t forget that although my appointment is for 3pm, I probably won’t get home before 7pm at the earliest as he always runs 2 to 3 hours behind.

It is now 06h16, I have been awake for over two hours now and need to go back to sleep. Thank you for reading and please do feel free to comment or to email me for individual responses. I take a while to reply but I do get there eventually.

With love and peace
Goose