Monday, October 26, 2015


how long has it been since I learned that everybody dies when they get old and how long since I learned that one can also die young?  74 years, a bit longer, or?   Did knowing make a difference in my life?  Not much.  I did not allow myself  to do things that looked dangerous to me but was blind concerning circumstances where I did not want to or did not see the danger, such as smoking.  

When I, two weeks ago, heard  the 'C'-word from the lips of my doctor my legs went numb just long enough to feel a warm  wave moving from the hips down and out at the toes and a bit of nausea in my stomach.  I have no other way to explain my reaction.  This was all. Half a minute shock-wave.
Since then X-rays were confirmed by Thorax scan and now I'm waiting living to see pulmonologist in mid-November.
So far I am not losing any sleep over this situation.  I am tying up a few loose ends and to use the words of dear Tom (Gwynt) in his recent not to say last post "I do not mind" and "life continues on its way". 

I wrote the above a few days ago.  Today, after reading dear Halle's recent post, I come to realize that 'fatalistic attitude' is maybe wrong self-analysis and wishful  thinking.  
My state of mind sounds more like a depression - no want to fight, only concerned about the well-being of my 'entourage'.  

And now something lighter.  What did the blind person say when handed a piece of sandpaper?  "Argh, this is written too tight". 
I heard this last week and thought it was offensive but was told it was not.

It's 9.13 in the morning.  I just came back from driving Moselito to his home away from home and will now attack laundry and tidying up.



Tom said...

Dear Ellena; Something tweaked my inner self when you wrote your last post, and I feared the worst. Hence my response, "Worrisome." I cannot put myself in your shoes, and so have only your words to go on. I do hope, of course, that future treatment (and is there any reason why you would refuse treatment?) will be successful, and that you will be restored to full good health. We will be thinking of you, as always.

Lucy said...

So sorry to hear, Ellena; as you once said to me, I wish I had more to offer you than thoughts of love. Of course I wish you all courage and success with treatments etc, but whatever, it's an awful blow. Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference between despair and serenity; I guess deciding it's the latter can only help, so don't complicate your existence by chiding yourself for 'wishful thinking'.

Your entourage will only be concerned for your well-being, of course, as you are only concerned for theirs.

Roderick Robinson said...

It seems inevitable that you would choose to be elliptical given what you had to say. You've always employed this fascinating approach and it would be wasteful to adopt any other mode of communication. I decided when it happened to me I'd stay mum but we're all different. If I had to write about it no doubt I'd write indirectly so there's a (somewhat indirect) link between us.

In situations like this it's natural for the outsider to be sympathetic and of course I am. But saying so? I'm not sure. When I read your stuff I find myself under strict orders not to be banal, almost an obligation. I wonder if I dare be sympathetic? Does this sound as if I'm trying to get myself off the hook. I hope not, just trying to be honest.

I thought I'd instead choose a single adjective that summed you up; just for fun. Laconic occurs, but I think I've used that before. Wayward seemed another option but, as I suspected, the meaning isn't all good (ie, difficult to control or predict because of wilful or perverse behaviour). Don't like perverse.

How about foreign? Not one of the more obvious meanings, rather: "alien in character, not characteristic of". Yes, I like that. You're not characteristic of anybody or anyone; to employ an oft-misused word you are unique.

I could go on. The cocological environment encourages me. But enough's enough for the moment. Next time I may try a bit of sympathy but I know I'll have try very hard to get it right..

marja-leena said...

Dear Ellena, I am so sorry to hear this and can only wish you strength and calmness in the coming days and weeks, and hope that whatever treatments you will be having are most helpful in restoring your health.

Halle said...

Dear Ellena, I have done the arithmetic and then checked it to make sure; two weeks less a day ago you left the following comment to my blog: "Thinking of you today dear Halle. Hope you are well."
You have been looking out for me, and have directed me and connected me in ways that have made a difference to my life. As you see from the responses here so far, much love is flowing in your direction.
You know my email address. Would love to chat back and forth whenever it suits you.

Rouchswalwe said...

My sweet Ellena ... here's adding to the stream, to the love flowing to you. You've got my email address, too. I'm here, at the other end of your keyboard, any time. I laughed at the joke you told us. Humour is important. And musik. As is doing the laundry and washing the dishes and all those other little things you need to make life comfy. Keep living, a day at a time. We'll cheer you on as you fight.

Sending hugs! And a hearty Prost! Zum Wohl!

Sabine said...

Liebe Ellena, my heart goes out to you.

What can I write? Maybe that our bodies, all those trillions of cells, always strive towards healing in their meandering ways? That our bodies and our minds are well capable to deal with difficult times if we allow it? That health - and illhealth - are concepts we must define for ourselves alone?

Or maybe I should tell you that research on cancer and cancer treatment is the most advanced area in medicine today? That our mindest of cancer as outsiders has nothing in common with what is now understood about cancer and hence the treatment options today are so much more successful?

Most of all, don't allow your life to be kidnapped by fear. It is far to beautiful and precious. This life.
Much love, Sabine

Ellena said...

Roderick Robinson!

I am speechless facing all these kind and caring words from you all and thank you from the bottom of my heart for the love you are sending my way.
I will never feel lonely knowing that you are out there.
My love to all of you.

Rouchswalwe said...

(that's a heart) Lots of love right back atcha, sweet Ellena! And oodles of hugs!

Roderick Robinson said...

I'm the only one with a surname. Do you know other Rodericks? Or is it just a desire to be complete: not just Billy, but Billy The Kid. Oh that Billy! That Roderick!

Natalie d'Arbeloff said...

Dear lovely Ellena, my friend I never met, I can echo every word of what your other friends above have said but in my own mind there's silence. I'm thinking of how I would react to the diagnosis you have been given and it seems to me that it would be much as you did. But that's of no help and it doesn't communicate the genuine empathy I feel or the frustration of not knowing what to say. Please just sense that I am sincerely and warmly with you.

Ellena said...

I do sense your 'in thoughts' presence and thank you with warm a heart for your kindness, dear Natalie.