Appreciating the lessons from the elderly

I remember as a child, listening to my mom and dad speak, listening to grannies and grandpas talk about in their day…. How things were so cheap. How people were so much better. How society was so bad. And thinking…. What on earth do you know?

Now, I am 42. I look around. At my friends’ children. At my own children. And I think… wow. When I was that age, it sure was different. I look at prices and think… when I started driving, I could fill my whole car with R50! I look at the way people speak to each other. I observe the anger, the aggression, and I think… when did people start behaving this way?

So… I guess what I am saying, is that I am now, elderly by default. Does that make me wrong? Absolutely not. Does it make the rest of the world wrong? No. It just means that the times are changing. Very rapidly.

Whole societies, whole cultures, the whole of civilisation in fact, is based on stories. Stories passed down from their elders. Folklore. Myth. Rumours. All filter down to the next generation and opinions are formed. Forming a basis of culture. Of belief. These lessons teach us who we are, where we come from, and help us decide who we want to be.

So the next time somebody tells you how they had to walk barefoot, 50 kms to school, listen to them. don’t roll your eyes. See if there is a lesson in there for you. a reason to celebrate or appreciate. Remember, getting old is not a luxury afforded to everybody.

Cancerversary

When Kim gave me this topic, I had to rack my brain. You see, I never had cancer. I had a breast disease that resulted in a double mastectomy and changed my very soul forever.

And so I feel like a bit of a fraud when I am writing about a cancerversary. However, I will go with my experience and with what I went through, as an indication of just how bad it really must be to be a true cancer survivor.

I was 39 at the time. I have battled with my left breast for most of my adult life, and was eventually diagnosed, after many misdiagnoses, with papillomatosis. By then, I had had four operations, and much pain and discomfort. When I was eventually told by my amazing Doctor that I needed to have most of the tissue in my left breast removed and would lose my nipple, I was shattered. But it was either that or develop either breast or skin cancer, and so I went ahead.

Had I known now, what waited for me on the other side of this decision, I may very well have changed my mind. I was very slow in healing and was at the wound clinic of the Milpark twice a week, every week, for dressings to be changed and drains cleaned and replaced, for the next eight weeks. Was very nearly not allowed to go on the holiday of a lifetime to Australia I had booked months before.

I couldn’t drive. I couldn’t get my children to and from school, buy groceries, wash dishes, even bath on my own.

I packed on weight, my entire body shape changed. I lost my hair due to the hormones and anxiety and stress. I cried more tears than I thought my body could retain. Friends and family were few and far between. My 15 year old daughter helped me with every single task I had to perform, and without her I would surely not have had the guts. to bear that burden. Nikita thank you my darling for being my strength when I was indeed weak.

To those amazing souls who have to undergo this and so so much more, while dealing with their mortality, I take my hat off and I salute you. Thank you and there, but for the grace of God, do we all go.