It’s day one of the Pink Test. It’s stirring mixed emotions. I spent 2022 undergoing chemotherapy and radiation treatment after two surgeries for breast cancer. I told virtually no one - I didn’t want the fear that people project into your space when you say you’ve been diagnosed with cancer.
I went to ground to receive the most gruelling treatment and also to find my self within. After the experience I feel shattered and threadbare as a woman (and my bowling arm is stuffed) - but I am grateful I’m alive.
For those of you who have read my memoir ‘Down the Dirt Roads’ you will understand the level of heartache and stress I experience as a single mother and artist due to the decisions of my father about the farm. He has since passed.
His name was Val Smith.
When I went to the hospital for the first time pre-surgery I was assigned a breast care nurse - she was/is lovely and her name - Val Smith. It was a moment in time when the room swirled around me. The same name. But a different style of person. Thank you nurse Val Smith and all the team at RHH for getting me through - laughing and smiling all the way. Angels do walk on this earth with us. (The photographed teacup belonged to Nana Smith - who is always with me)
Enjoy the cricket. And instead of millions of dollars going to medical organisations let’s go to the root cause - let’s pour our energy and $$ into regenerative farm systems to help stop poisoning our air, food and water and each other with unloving actions. Then cancer will have an enduring cure.
Love to you