A year passes…
A year since I became a divorced woman
A year since I moved into my own home
…and what a year…
Another decision making hiatus, another step forward, and, as a bonus, another new word. I am a “neophyte” that is. if I have understood the word correctly – converting to my own lay medical approach of dealing with metastatic cancer. I have stopped treatment.
Life is short and I am going to go my own way (not sure why this is all starting to sound a bit Fleetwood Mac) through it and quit being medicalised. I have reached a point, at last, when I feel my judgement is sound and I am not being controlled. I no longer want to be a slave to the hospital, all its sub-text and endless testing (not forgetting the permanent incumbent worry). I have decided to consider myself “better” and plan to “live” accordingly.
I have now got the hang of this going solo lark. I make my own choices based on what I consider to be important. Finally I am finding out what I do consider to be important; what makes me happy and what catalysts make me spiral downwards. So…that’s the plan.