JANUARY 7 — Sometimes you need to accept that the Fates will laugh at your best laid plans.
Since I have two immunotherapy treatments this month and family in town, I thought I would get the My50 rail pass (excellent value) for all the train trips.
My planning last Monday did not take into account a Grab driver pulling the old trick of “getting lost” multiple times on the way to my place thus forcing me to cancel, my disorientation at getting to the HKL stop (l got lost) and then a heavy downpour on the way back home, leading me to take shelter in the nearby snack shop.
Looking at the receipt for all the snacks I bought, it probably would have been cheaper if I’d just taken a Grab to/from the hospital.
I also still got caught in the rain walking home so arrived soggier than a bread pudding.
In the ward, I also found out that someone who arrived just a little after me was turned away and told to come for her infusion the next morning instead.
So I dodged a really large bullet and was lucky to even get my immunotherapy done.
I did feel grateful that I spent “only” four hours at the hospital this time but despite bringing my own blanket to keep warm, socks and layers, the nurse still pronounced my hands cold as ice.
The newer younger nurses this time around were kind and rather sweet; I did wonder where the usual male attendants were, and if they were doing well.
I am but just one of hundreds, perhaps thousands, that the staff see every day but for me they were my lifeline and I will always feel nothing but gratitude for their care.
Moving forward, instead of trying futilely to hoard pennies I will make my decisions based on the preservation of my health and the best use of my time.
My 17 cycles of immunotherapy will end soon, with my final Herceptin infusion being the week before my birthday.
I plan to take a solo break again, at a place more accepting of downward escalators, so I would rather avoid spending on frivolities here so I can feel less guilty when spending on frivolities elsewhere.
Maybe one day I’ll go to Japan but not this year as it will take me at least two years of saving up before I can afford more than a return trip to Narita Airport and browsing the airport’s shops.
So alas, I will see Tokyo only in my dreams for now but the thing about cancer is that it takes a hammer to the fragile walls of your complacency so you can ask yourself: what do you really want to do now?
At the moment, I just need to go where I won’t be reminded of hospitals, needles and my own fragility.
I’ve never been much of a traveller, preferring the comforts of home, but lately I feel my mind and body need to be reminded that the world is so much bigger than my pain and fears.
The world itself is a terrifying place if all you read are news headlines but conflict and suffering are both tales as old as time.
It does not mean we must find false comfort in apathy; magical thinking does not wish the bad things away.
Instead, I will think more deeply of finding meaning in the everyday and remembering that every second of life is a gift.
Rather than live in constant fear of the cancer coming back I will just move forward, to find purpose and joy, seeking grace and ways to perform acts of service, because life really is too short if you consider all that you could do with it.
* This is the personal opinion of the columnist.
