It was just an ordinary envelope really. An ordinary, rectangular brown envelope, lying on the mat, there in my front hall. Could have been anything really. Car tax reminder, I’m always missing the date. Dental appointment, can’t miss that. I have this fascinating fear, periodontal paranoia, fear of losing my teeth. Optician’s appointment? I’m a bit forgetful about this. Shouldn’t be really, not at my age. Overdue library book? Surely not. I work in a library, for Pete’s sake. But again, you know what they say. Doctors and nurses make the worst patients. Hmmm! No, I’m sure I don’t have any late literature.

Until I picked it up and opened it I really didn’t know what would be revealed. I wasn’t apprehensive in the least. Why should I be? Everything in my garden was rosy, wasn’t it? I ripped open the missive and scanned the contents.

Terror built slowly in my mind. I froze with the letter in my sweating hand. Light-headed and faint I groped for the nearest chair and sank gratefully into it. It was a different person who calmly refolded the letter, placed it back in the envelope and set it gently on the kitchen table. A different person when the shaking commenced, a different person when the tears started to flow. My daughter-in-law Sarah didn’t recognise my voice as I attempted to speak to her on the phone.

They, they’ve found a lump. A lump in my breast. I have to go back for more tests on Monday, ” I sobbed.

She listened shocked but then hastened to reassure me of the 98% of false alarms.

“Phyllis, they have to check everything. Honestly, don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”

That was Friday evening. By Saturday night I had partially succeeded in blanketing future events, but by Sunday dinner time fear and trepidation soured my stomach and an immediate disposal of vitals consumed was imminent. I was so frightened. So very frightened. Monday morning dawned bright and beautiful with a hint of hovering heat. Sleep was a yearned for state which had not visited me in the night and I sluggishly got out of bed. My fateful journey had begun. Today’s end seemed a longed for lifetime away.  My mortality had never been an issue with me before, but it was now uppermost in my mind. Because of my Mum. Lumpectomy she had. Perfectly fine now. It’s hereditary, you see. My turn now. Maybe I won’t be so lucky. My drive to the hospital was a blinding blur, my mind wandering off in terrifying tangents Perhaps I was spared death by driving for my life to be cancelled by cancer. This situation felt surreal.. I didn’t feel sick. I certainly didn’t look sick. So why was I heading to an appointment which would dictate the remainder of my life and the length of it?

Approaching the sign for the clinic I had an uncontrollable urge to turn the car around and head away, away to a quiet place, a retreat, somewhere to think and plan for the future, somewhere safe where bad things didn’t happen. Common sense and courage prevailed, all that would have to wait until the final verdict, when hopefully I could gain my stability and continue on life’s long journey unscathed. It was a journey I had to face but not alone. I have a lot to be thankful for. My family were my reason for living especially my three beautiful granddaughters and two handsome grandsons. Help was available if and when needed. My daughter-in-law Karen met me at the hospital, she worked there and accompanied me to the clinic. Whispering reassurances in my ear she walked beside me. Strange, I have gone down these corridors many times in my life – meeting my new gorgeous grandchildren for the first time, appointments for arthritic relief and numerous trips to casualty. Today these self same corridors, seemed ominous and overpowering  – walls closing in on me, floors rising to meet me….Karen caught me as I stumbled and we continued on.

Whatever today’s outcome would be, things would change. I would change.Not wasting the precious time given to me, experiencing life, experiencing adventures, experiencing everything . Life is a journey, tragically shorter for some than for others but the mantra for all remains the same

Live life to the fullest

Love to the limit.

Laugh until your sides hurt

And listen to at least one Daniel O’ Donnell lament!

That will be your penance!

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