On a cinema trip with the kids recently, a trailer came on for Trainspotting 2. I sat there feeling quite nostalgic, as the film and actors seem to have grown up with me. I was in my early twenties when the first film came out, I was a struggling single mum, trying to make ends meet and had probably made various poor choices in my life. Obviously nothing as bad as the trainspotting crew! And now here I was, twenty years later, watching the trailer, thinking how the characters have all grown up and become sensible, like me. I am now happily married with three kids and a mortgage living a sensible, forty plus year olds life. Ewen Mcgregor’s voice than echoed around the theatre “I choose life.” he said, and I wanted to stand up and shout “That’s like me too Ewen. I choose life.” The only difference being will life choose me?
That’s one of the things that I find difficult to cope with, when I ask myself, will I still be around in a few years? When the kids laugh and make comments about what they will all be like when they’re older, what jobs they’ll have, how many children etc. I smile and laugh too, but have that fleeting dark cloud that crosses my thoughts that says “Please let me be there. Please let me at their weddings and meet my grandchildren. Please let me see what beautiful strong women they will grow up to be because I desperately want life too.” So as I’ve said before, I do everything in my power not to think about it. I keep busy with things and people that make me smile and laugh. I don’t want to spend time worrying about it. I want to spend my time having fun. It doesn’t always pan out how you want it to though.
Recently I had a little sabbatical from social media, but ended up missing family and friends and mainly my eye cancer support group, so was back on within a month. One month. Within that month someone very to dear to lots of people in the eye cancer UK community had died and various others have had bad results back form the dreaded liver MRI. One person I consider a kind friend was one of them. I had thought I’d be catching up with happy memories and stories but was instead brought to a brutal halt that cancer is still very much part of my life. It had got him, would it get me? I wanted to scream. Why? He chooses life too and nobody seems to be listening! Not only is it bad enough to have to play Russian Roulette every six months, waiting for it to spread, but many people than have to fund the treatment themselves. Why? Because the cancer is rare, it’s terminal, so where would you put the funding? To prolong a middle aged woman’s life for a year or to pay for a lung transplant for a young child. It’s brutal, but that’s it. We know we aren’t top of the funding list however loud we scream “I choose life!!” So if anyone is ever looking for a charity to support, Ocumeluk is one that supports eye cancer and us.
And just a little aside to prove my point that ignorance is bliss, my lovely, almost 15 year old cat Rosie isn’t very well. She arrived when my 21 year old daughter was seven. She saw the arrival of the next two girls, who were often heavy handed with her, as only toddlers can be. Many a time I had to tell them to not carry her down the stairs in a head lock as poor Rosie couldn’t breathe and not to body slam her. She never scratched or bit them. She then saw the arrival of a very large bouncy labradoodle, who she made quite clear too, she was boss, and managed three house moves without ever getting lost. We have now been told she’s on limited time and it’s just palliative care. We are all sad and devastated. Well all, apart from Rosie. She doesn’t know! She is ignorant to it and is more than happy living off fresh fish and chicken and being given fresh catnip daily and as many laps to sit on as she wants. Middle child told me that “it’s lovely as she can live the rest of her life like a princess.” And she can. An ignorant princess, which is the way to go. So I’m off to pop a bottle in the fridge so we can be ignorant princesses together.
3 thoughts on “I Choose Life”
I wholeheartedly approve of your choice, princess!! Poor Rosie…does that explain the little accidents at Christmas? I’m sure she’ll receive lots of love and cuddles xxx
No, the little accidents at Christmas were just Rosie living up to her name, ‘shitty kitty,’ that your son renamed her many years ago! That was just her being scared by a fox or a bigger cat! She now has a litter tray so hopefully no more accidents.
And just to clarify the accidents happened before any guests arrived at Christmas. I don’t want people thinking that my family were sitting amongst Rosie’s deposits whilst waiting for their Christmas turkey! xx
Ha ha ha!!!!! I know that!!!! Hope Rosie’s last days are comfortable and happy. Did my lovely son really name her such an awful name??? Shame on him!!! Xxx