There is a simple reason for that- in the past couple of months my thoughts have resembled the arid waste land of central Kalahari desert.
Imagine tumbleweeds blowing down an empty dirt track.
Or wind whipping sand over a stretch of dunes.
Yup... That has been the vista of my thought world.
The inner world of one Mrs. Suz has been worn out, tired....
I honestly think the initial adrenaline fuelled weeks of diagnosis, moving, appointments, waiting rooms, scans, treatment plans, going back to work - all culminated in a little siesta of sorts in my mind.
I still functioned, I just had no words to say or write that resembled anything remotely coherent.
It's a bit like this:
In early January of this year, everything that could be shaken was shaken.
And not just a little jiggle to see if we were awake, but a Hurricane strength shake.
And after every life altering shake up there comes the time of recovery.
You recover and you take stock.
You rummage through the wreckage and salvage what needs to be saved.
My mind has been in recovery mode... Rummaging through the ruins and the debris, pulling out the valuables that need to stay with me.
And after the recovery effort comes the rebuild.
And now it's time for some rebuilding.
Sheldon has been in Sydney this week for his oncologist appointment. He has been carrying a weight of "I hope this treatment is working" that I have been shouldering. In fact, everyone in our world has been waiting and hoping and praying that the treatment is working..
He had his CT scan Tuesday and on Wednesday went to see Prof. Beale at the Cancer centre.
You need something to work with when you rebuild. Some tools, some materials..
The treatment is working.
The cancer is shrinking.
There's our material.
A bit of tangible hope.
Let me be honest: having hope without proof is doable, but it's bloody tough work.
It stretches faith.
It says "believe that things are going to be fine without knowing if things are going to be fine."
It's hard work.
It says "trust that there is a rhyme and a rhythm and a reason when all you hear is discordant chaos."
Yes, there is always hope.
And when hope bears fruit and becomes tangible, oh the sweet relief.
Having hope is crucial.
Holding hope when it starts to flourish and show results.... That's a nice day.
Getting the break you've been holding out for... That's a nice day.
Seeing the benefit of the hard yards... That's a nice day.
Hope realised.. That's a nice day.
So..... After almost 6 months of walking the tension of truly horrible and hopeful peace, we have to learn how to live this new life we find ourselves in.
I start full time work next term.
Sheldon has a little two bedroom cottage,( no actually, it's more a shack..) to paint.
We are taking the boys on our first family holiday next week.
Sadie the dog has to adjust to farm life. She's going to love it. (Our poor chickens!!)
We have bills and loans and repayments that need attention.
It's rebuilding.
It's learning how to live after the storm.
