The tumour

She threw her keys on the table and they landed with a brittle bang. What a

day. She was tired. In another lifetime she’d have been reaching for the bottle. Now, she turned to the kettle, shook it: enough for a nice cup of tea. She checked the clock. It was just after four in the afternoon. Looking through the window, the sun was fighting its way through copious clouds and she could see it would succeed. Heck, what was she waiting for. She ignored the hot, boiled water and ran for the stairs. With an air of happy abandon, she fired shorts, a few T-shirts and knickers into a small rucksack, grabbed her current novel, considered the phone charger and acquiesced! Bring a warm jumper, Rosemary had said. She grabbed a chunky sweatshirt, pyjamas and toiletries. Still smiling, she reached for her water bottle, HRT tablets and was in the car before she knew it. I’m off she said aloud. Lyric FM was belting out Vivaldi’s Four Seasons and she turned out on their country road with relish, heading for the hills and main road beyond. The glow of the September evening sun began to set behind her. The brambles on either side of the road were weighty with blackberries, ripe for picking. Through the open car window, the scent of honeysuckle intermingled with the furze yielding a mellow honeyed scent. The cries of the crows accompanied the cows, making their way home to the farmyard. These were evenings of sheer bliss.

She hadn’t mentioned the scan to anyone but Rosemary and Ann. They were great: two non judgemental and all round supportive women. Although they had explored the whens, the hows, the wheres and what ifs, they really hadn’t delved deeper. None of them could. Emotions were too superfluous. Lord, better deal with these things when you truly had to. And now the results were back. The tumour was benign and she’d live. She knew from the get go, she was going to embrace every minute from when she left the clinic. This was going to be her chapter: one of fun filled joy and laughter. This evening she was headed for a night with the women and tomorrow she’d fly to Madrid. She was spending a month walking the Camino, finding her soul and breathing the chest pains and hidden growths of the past 50 years into the stratosphere of Spain. She knew she was blessed. Her friends had rallied, bills were sorted, Mossy was in a good place and life was looking up. She’d figure out work when she came back. A few agency shifts here and there would keep the bills paid and the wolf off her back. She had come a long way back to the woman she once was and always yearned to be. Back again was the carefree, fluid agent. She smiled at the idea of travelling with little. She now knew you don’t need a lot to live; faith, love and friendship and of course a few euros in the pocket. In another lifetime, there would have been matching bags and shoes, jewellery, false nails (she couldn’t remember the name), never out without makeup, job titles, stress, chest pain and a constant palpable fear. Covid had been a brilliant leveller for a time. It helped bring reality to the mix. She had loved being at home with Mossy, her beloved boy, now an employed autistic man, which was no mean feat given the stats on autism and employment. With that shared time had come the realisation that life was for living and not just longing. Bit by bit, she had started to build a new future. Finding the breast lump had been the real catalyst for change. The car phone sounded. Well, where are you? Ann asked. On the road finally she replied. Rosie and I are just arrived and having a G&T. Will we order a celebratory one for you. No honey, I’ll stick to the tonic she answered with a smile. I’m on a roll now and we’ll keep rolling! KO, see you when we see you! As she joined the motorway, the dulcet tones of Dire Straits and Romeo and Juliet brought a smile of real pleasure to her relaxed countenance. It was a moment of reconnecting with a very satisfied Susan. The shower that revealed the lump had galvanised her to action: Calls to friends to establish the best Dr for the job. You can’t beat nursing buddies of course: practical, peaceful, positive and of course proactive. In a few weeks, appointments were made, bloods taken, a surgeon sourced, Mossy’s schedule in place and the biopsy in the calendar. She had prayed and meditated, combined with daily running to keep some level of serotonin in the system. Funny, there was no yen for a drink. Just keep going as she was going: eating, sleeping, praying and loving. It was great to hand in the notice to another stress related job. It was also great to get the flat rented and a long term lease sorted. With each of these formative steps, came a summative relief. Letting go was never as easy. All she had ever wanted deep down was peace. Maybe you have to travel the madness to arrive at that place. She had done the roller coaster ride: plenty of destructive relationships, copious amounts of alcohol and lots of self loathing and self doubt because of it all. Imposter syndrome had become part and parcel of who and what she was. However, little by little post pandemic, the real Susan had begun to re-emerge. She had cut down on pointless shopping, evolved to organic healthy eating, stopped drinking and reintroduced a regularity of reading, writing and running to her life. She had also embraced the art and practice of meditation and prayer. With that came the true and meaningful journey to inner peace. With it too, came the realisation of how lucky she was to have such great abundance in her life. The tumour and it’s journey was almost like the final catharsis to have a clean sheet heading for the Camino. The fear, her constant companion had finally dissipated, replaced instead by a tranquility for life and living. She knew deep down, she had now been handed her passport for life. The best was truly yet to come.