Happiness is …

Being cancer free!! And being able to spend a day with my beautiful Mum who ferried me around town from lung transplant clinic to oncologist and back home again – but not before we lingered over delectable foodstuffs.

We’ve been on tenterhooks for a couple of weeks about a rather brutish pain in my arm, which I first noticed in February when I was on Vipassana. I mentioned it to my chief consultant, but there were more pressing issues at hand upon my return, such as the possibility of heart problems which I’m happy to report aren’t problems, and that the mad palpitations I was having were due to a low magnesium level.

After addressing it at clinic again, my consultant was straight onto it and booked me in for a bone scan on Monday. ‘Great’, I thought – ‘we’re going to get this sorted’, except that it wasn’t great because the form looked like this …


Because I’m a bit of a cancer collector magnet, the possibility of the pain being bone cancer had been firing around my head for weeks. The pain is deep in the bone and it aches and throbs. At night, I struggle to reach into sleep because I just can’t get comfortable. On Sunday, I found myself in racking pain so my parents rushed me to the hospital in search of answers and pain relief. The answers would have to wait until I’d had the bone scan the next day, but I was given some pretty full on pain meds. Pain meds I hesitate to use simply because the side effects often outweigh their pain relieving qualities. So, armed with prescriptions for opiates, orders for more fucking rest and a heat pack that an angel of a nurse gave me in emergency, my folks* drove me back to my place where – to my delight – fireworks had been arranged for my arrival. How serendipitous!


After a slightly more comfortable night ie. not groaning in pain like a broken-legged dog, I was so drugged up on Monday that the entire day is a blur. I remember going to nuclear medicine and having some radioactive agent injected into me, and then having the scan. I also remember smiling because the machine was going to take my picture 🙂


The pain has been at its consistent worst, but today heralded the best news any of us could have hoped or asked for: my bone scan was clear. There is no cancer; just beautiful stretches of white lines on black film. For my family and my friends (and my supporters – thank you!), this was the news we’d been so desperate to hear. I’d dodged another bullet, which called for celebration before I had another appointment with my oncologist (good news there, too), and so Mum and I headed straight to lunch and asked a lovely young girl to capture our moment of joy and relief.


And then we did the simplest of things – we literally broke bread and tried to lock ourselves in the cheese room. Simple abundance. Tonight though, as I sit here looking across the landscape of the city at the new lights peppering the skyline, I think about the people who didn’t get great news today, and sit in a place of loving kindness and compassion with them and their loved ones ♥

*where do I even begin to explain how amazing my folks are? I would have to write forever …  ♥

12 thoughts on “Happiness is …

  1. Well the apple didn’t fall far from the tree because you my friend are as awesome as your parents and never cease to astound us all with your ‘power of one’. May every day be as spectacular as today for you. Love to the friends and extended family who live your pain with you they too are very special people. Love you and all your bruises!


    1. That’s the thing JG – there are so many people who shoulder the burden for me, and so many I’ve not even met. I love it when humans are just plain beautiful (which, as it happens, is you. Every day). Watch out for this deckhand on the Condesa 😉 I’m so proud of you and Marky Mark for living your dream of sailing the Pacific. Thanks for letting me live the dream with you xoxo


    1. Merci Lea! I need all the rooting … oh, wait – something was about to get lost in translation there 😉 I’m sending you good health vibes, too – I know how crook you’ve been and that recovery has been tough. Big love to you xoxo


  2. Absolutely great news, Carly, and what a lovely photo of you and your Mum. (Is there one of you both in the cheese room, too?)


    1. I’ll have to find an unsuspecting patron to snap me in my version of heaven, Sue. Why can’t we live in cheese rooms, or at least temporarily inhabit one? I hope you’re well, too. Gosh, your blog is magnificent xoxo


  3. After my hooting in other cyber places, I’ll do a growed up “Fantastic” news here :-D. So very glad for you and all your loved ones. Your grace and strength in battles is ever present and y’know, it doesn’t fall far from the tree 😉 Hugs & YAY! xoxo ❤


    1. I tried to do the mature thing, but ended up saying, ‘that’s friggin’ awesome!’ to my doc, who I also could have pashed, I mean, kissed (damn patient-doctor ethics, plus Mum was in the room – not that that’s ever stopped me).

      Jewel and I went to lunch and giggled like little kids between seriously looking at each other and saying ‘thank FUCK’ – not really graceful at all, but that’s how we get through these battles. I say bring on the next, but gosh it’d be lovely to have a break after the last couple of months. Much love to you and happy Mother’s Day! xoxo


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