K*nkerkanker, part 18 I'm back...
#k *nker cancer
The last blog Helse pains was tricky. Of course, I also wrote about beautiful things, but the pains just prevailed. Luckily, I'm doing a lot better now. The pains are much less now and I feel a little human again. I can move more and walk pieces again and cook and care for myself without experiencing pain. Because honestly, that's really going to be in your head. I couldn't anymore and I didn't know how to do it anymore. Staying positive is one thing, but then it has to be a little bit with it of course. Anyway, enough about that because that was the previous blog.
I want to use this blog to look forward. And also share what I've learned. Because apparently a chaoot like me is good for me rest and regularity. In the past period, I have been a little more for myself. If I didn't want something in the hospital, I'd make it clear right now. Don't go along with it, but say it can't. I had trouble with that. But it gives me peace if I keep the overview a little for myself. I'm trying to divide everything into small steps. It works best. And most of all, make sure I don't cross my border. Sometimes I can do more than the day before, which is nice but doesn't have to. And sometimes it is. I'm glad I found out a little about myself. It mainly came to the fore in the irradiation. I didn't want cramping attacks in the MRI or in the irradiation device. So I got on the brake and shifted the deal. The irradiation doctor, of course, called and pointed to me the importance of the irradiation. I understood that, but I also wanted attention to my situation. And I got it that way. The day of the 3rd irradiation I was super tense and told everyone who wanted to hear about my cramps and my concerns about it. They were all very sweet and I had the feeling that people really listened to me. The radiation doctor even preferred to have his anesthetic in my head! He even came in between to tell me that the radiation was also getting on. The tumor in my head was getting smaller and dying. So that was very nice to hear and gives you the courage to continue. It's been two weeks now, and I'm waiting for the control MRI now. Everyone who knows me has seen my glasses with taped glass. Hopefully I can part with that. I can look straight on again and maybe even drive a car. I miss that. I miss my independence. But I can see that one step. And don't worry about everything the moment is there.
Furthermore, I notice that I am not finished with my own story yet. I like to do storytelling and share my story with people. The story is becoming more and more complete. At least that's how it feels to me. And luckily there are also opportunities to talk. April 3rd I will be on stage in The Hague. I feel a lot like that. I have to take good precautions, because I can't last very many things long. So I need to think carefully, what can and what can not be. But once again keep small steps and overview. Then it will all be fine. I am convinced of that. Storytelling leads me to think aloud about where I am now and what I've been through over the past period. But also which way I want to go myself. I like to receive feed back from people afterwards and hear what my story has done to them. It's my own personal quest for my own happiness. And hopefully it will help other people, too. You manage to set something in motion with someone else. This time, I hope my biological family can be present. So they know my story and get to know me better. Then I can also talk about my adoption and what it did to me. I certainly didn't dare to do that the first time. But I dare to take steps in that too because I know that it will contribute to my happiness. And that's what it's still about, my happiness.
