Monday, August 31, 2015

A Funny Moment with my Vibrator

A vibrating moment 

If women were more honest, the accessory called a vibrator would not cause such embarrassment.  We all know that men wank, but how many of us would own up to being the proud owner of a vibrator?  I have had one (not the same one of course) from before South Africa became “verlig” and started importing sex toys and aids.  But back in the day when sex was a dirty word and Noddy was still banned, I had my fair share of hilarious moments.
My vibrator had its own place in my handbag, so it went everywhere with me.  One never knows when you need to sort out a little bit of horniness.  It can even happen during the time it takes for the traffic lights to turn from red to green.
I was buying a printer from Macro, a large supermarket/wholesaler.  A really lovely young man was helping me.  He put the printer down on the glass top counter while he processed the sale.  I put my handbag down on the counter as well.  Suddenly I heard a vibrating sound and to my complete embarrassment, found the source of the noise in my handbag.  By then not only was the salesman looking on with curiosity, but so was his colleague.  With one hand I tried to scratch around in the (large and deep) bag for the offending noise producing item to switch it off.  It had one of those tops that you screw down at the back to activate and to stop it you unscrew the lid a little.  Obviously from all the banging the bag had done against my leg, the bottom of the vibrator had screwed itself a little tighter and it had turned itself on.  The material handbag and the vibrating vibrator on the glass top counter made a loud enough noise for other colleagues to lean in closer to the noise.  There was nothing for it but to open my bag and start unloading it in an attempt to silence that offending vibrator.
“Sorry fellows, but my vibrator has turned itself on”, I said when I eventually got the offending article out the bag and onto the counter.  I was so peeved about it that I actually opened it properly and dropped the three AAA batteries into my bag, put the lid back onto the vibrator and dropped that too into my bag.  The Macro salesmen’s eyes were as round as saucers.
After paying for the printer, I had three salespeople fighting to carry it to my car.  I doubt whether those three young men will ever forget the day a woman removed the batteries from her vibrator on their glass topped counter.  Vibrators also improve the after sales service of the salesmen! 

Friday, August 21, 2015

When Medical Protocol Over-rules Common Sense, Some Doctors Couldn't give a Damn

A month after a bi-lateral mastectomy 
I am very, very angry at the medical profession.  I have been through a lumpectomy, then a partial mastectomy, then a bi-lateral mastectomy and then more drains inserted, including the removal of a port that flipped 180 degrees and a new one inserted between the 20 July and the 17 August – all this without appropriate pain medication.
The last time I was this angry was when I took on the Department of Social Development for abusing the rights of South African children.  Although I won both Supreme Court hearings, the anger made my blood boil and I am sure that that anger was the precipitating event that led to my leukaemia.    My blood boiled until it got sick.
The pain I have endured has damaged my spirit and my soul.  I have been to hell and back again more than once and instead of me feeling like I have turned the corner and am moving towards healing on a physical level (only talking about the boob situation now), I am extremely angry with the doctors who have attended to me.   This is not because they could not help me by controlling my pain, but because they refused to help me.
Medication does not do the same thing for all people.  Morphine does not take away my pain, nor does it take me to cloud cuckoo land and it certainly does not calm me in any way.  I develop extreme anxiety, have hallucinations and get paranoid.  Morphine or a derivative of the opiate is the drug of choice for all doctors today.  I have so much morphine prescribed to me that I could start supplying the town.  I could become the new drug dealer.
The only medication that controls my pain without doing serious damage and mischief to my mind is pethidine.  It takes away the pain and I can function as a normal human being.  But the doctors say they can’t give that to me because I will become addicted.
Now honestly – do they really think I am that stupid to swallow that crap.  Morphine is addictive.  Booze is addictive and quite frankly, I don’t give a continental flying fuck about addiction at this stage of the game.   I can deal with addiction later, if that is what is going to happen.  
I am angry that I have had to go through so much pain that it has coloured my mind, consciousness and spirit in screaming red where nothing else exists.  And all this because the doctor’s protocol has taken the place of common sense?  Will I ever forgive them for allowing me to suffer when there was medication to help me get through this nightmare?   I hope so because I don’t want to carry this anger with me, but it will take some time before I trust a doctor again.  If the doctors were to have experienced even one 10th of the pain I have endured, they would have medicated themselves.   Why do doctors not LISTEN to their patients?  Why do they think they know more about the patient’s body than the patient?  The patient lives in his own body so therefore WILL know more than the doctor?  Since the Hippocratic Oath went out the window, so too did the care of most doctors.  It is now a meat market, a business, a way to make a quick buck.  Not ALL doctors, but most. 
I have been fortunate, within the last ten days, to find a kind General Practitioner, of the old-school; one who still believes in the Hippocratic Oath, who treats me with respect and who cares about me as a human being.  The difference between this old-school doctor and the ones who have been attending to me through this month of hell has been made even more obvious by his kindness.  
Medicine today is big business.  It is about making money and doing the least amount of work.  It is about not caring enough to take a chance, just in case the practice insurance premiums go up.  It is not about caring enough to even listen to the patient.  I was the unlucky recipient of a surgeon shouting at me when I told him that there was something wrong with my port, because two days previously it showed on a portogram that the port was in working order.  In two days things can change, but he did not see it like that.  He made me feel like a worthless piece of shit deserving of no consideration or respect.   Only when I asked him to show the sisters how to insert an elbow needle into the port and he was unable to do so, did he order an X-Ray.  There WAS something wrong.  The port had flipped so had to be removed and a new one put into the opposite side of my chest.    What point would there have been to say, “I told you so”?   Did he apologise?  Not a chance.  I just had to deal with more surgery.
The specialists I have dealt with from the diagnosis of Hairy Cell Leukaemia to breast cancer have, for the most part, been arrogant, did not listen to me, showed me no respect and made me feel like I was wasting their time.  It would do the world a great deal of good if the medical profession had to learn a little humility and a little compassion.  They must also realize that they too can become ill and become dependent on another doctor, and maybe that doctor won’t give a shit either.   Do unto others ….

May my anger recede as my body heals...I don’t want this anger to slow down my healing process.  

Doctors need to LISTEN to their patients.

There are many types of blood cancer, the four common types of leukaemia are:   Chronic lymphocytic leukaemia (CLL): CLL affects lymphoid cells and usually grows slowly. It accounts for more than 15,000 new cases of leukaemia each year. Most often, people diagnosed with the disease are over age 55. It almost never affects children.   Chronic myeloid leukaemia (CML): CML affects myeloid cells and usually grows slowly at first. It accounts for nearly 6,000 new cases of leukaemia each year. It mainly affects adults.         Acute lymphocytic (lymphoblastic) leukaemia (ALL): ALL affects lymphoid cells and grows quickly. It accounts for more than 6,000 new cases of leukaemia each year. ALL is the most common type of leukaemia in young children. It also affects adults.        Acute myeloid leukaemia (AML): AML affects myeloid cells and grows quickly. It accounts for more than 18,000 new cases of leukaemia each year. It occurs in both adults and children.
My one is Hairy Cell Leukaemia is a rare type of chronic leukaemia of the rarest leukaemia and in the USA the incidence is 3.2-3.3/million population/year. This occurs only in adults, there is no cure, but it can be managed in most cases.    Living with a rare disease means that the patient becomes the expert and very, very few medical people will ever see it in their entire careers.   Doctors need to LISTEN to their patients and not automatically assume that the patient knows less than they do.  Doctors also only see what they have been taught and recognise what they know.  Hence, if your disease falls outside of those parameters, the uninformed patient is in deep shit. 

Thursday, August 20, 2015

If a Person Hurts you, they will Hate you Forever

The reason that those who have hurt you in the past will continue to hate you is because in their subconscious minds they know they did wrong. 

To admit to being wrong and apologising will increase their feeling of self-loathing so they avoid saying sorry.  Their coping mechanism will be to place the fault of their behaviour on you so that they can feel justified about the hurt their caused.  This is called an external locus of control and shows an immature personality type.  They always blame other things or people for the situation they find themselves in.

Forgiving these people won’t do a damn thing for them, BUT it will free you from the negativity that they put on you by their actions, their thoughts and their words to other people.  It will free you from the bondage of bitterness, disappointment, hate, hurt, anger and every other negative emotion that keeps you bound to this uncaring, self-centred mother fucker.   Let them go.  Freeze them out of your life.  They will only make your life path that much more difficult to walk.  Even if you have to fake it until you make it – make that person(s) mean nothing to you.  Turn them into just Joe Blogs who you do not know and you will be able eventually to walk past them and not see them.  That will piss them off even more – so their hate increases until it swallows them whole.   It is impossible for a hateful person to experience any happiness.  

That is their punishment. 

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Maybe Dying is Like an Orgasm

My life is short and in a blink of an eye it is gone.  This was brought home to me as an absolute truth when I was diagnosed with leukemia.  I have learned so much.  I learned that I have to really live, every moment of every day.  If it is a shit day, I can look forward to a better day.  When it is a better day, I really appreciate it because life is like a pendulum.  It does not stay good forever either.

I will not lie down and say woe is me.   I will live, love, shock, swear, laugh cry, and dance while I am alive.  I will live until I die.  I will face this monster of an illness and I will tame it.  I will turn the leukemia and breast cancer from a monster into a chameleon.   I will live without fear. I face this and live with courage and boldness.  I live daringly, feeling every emotion and doing what I like and what I want when I can.

Let me give thanks for the love and companionship of those I love.   It is far more important for me to love than to be loved.   Let me be grateful for the miracle of life.  Out of my inner pain, may I learn to touch my fellow creatures with compassion, empathy and understanding.  Let me do the things I need to do or say what I need to say to everyone right now.  I will not let one day go by that I say that I did not live, that I let something slide by, that I did not make someone else smile, that I did not take the time to hug someone or tell them how much I love them. 

May I have the courage to live fully so that when I return to Source, I can say, “I really lived!”  I no longer fear death but look forward to it with eager anticipation for the next adventure of a lifetime.  And who knows?  Maybe dying is as pleasant as an orgasm. 

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

Kindness has Enormous Power

This has been a long journey - over two months and is not over yet.  
It is with deep depth of gratitude that I place this message on FB.  I have no idea how to thank the hundreds of FB friends who have prayed for me and thought about me during this time, or of thanking those who sent me flowers or came to visit.  How am I to thank the women who have sent me a message via mobile phone every single day – finding out how I am and encouraging me to never give up; and to the many phone calls to Patrick to find out how I am?  It is all deeply gratifying for me.    Kindness has enormous power and can give the one receiving it the strength to get up time and time again.  Beneath the shelter of your compassion you have protected me.  Thank you.

As soon as I have fought the fight for myself, I will again be on an Impossible Mission.  It is part of my personality to fight injustice and if I turn my back on that, I am turning my back on myself and I will become paralysed.   I have to first save myself or we shall all drown.  I have however, numerous ideas for more impossible missions.  I have had enough time to think about that. 

A special thank you to Maureen Parry, Dawn Detlor, Gert Fouche, Marge Canning, Ben Kruger, Michael Crawford, Arthur da Silva and my cousins, Michelle Koen and Sandi van der Riet, for all your support.     Forgive me if I have failed to mention you by name – every single message to me has been appreciated.   In advance I also apologise for not responding to each and every person who has messaged me.  It is too great a task for me at the moment, as my touch typing has digressed (temporarily) to typing with one hand. 

I am not out of the woods yet, but I can see a path in front of me.  I keep my eyes focused on the goal of good health and do not lower my eyes when the path becomes complicated.  The only time I look down is when I am going down stairs for failure to be observant on stairs could result in a broken neck.  All else is just that – a complication and challenge to overcome.