Touch of Cancer by Jean Charity (large screen ebook reader txt) 📕
Excerpt from the book:
Touch of cancer is the inspiring story of how one woman has coped with the onset of a disease that many fear.
Jean Charity, originally from Derby in the United Kingdom but now residing in Spain covers the subject in her own inimitable style. While many would find little to find humourous in such a potentially, serious disease, Jean has succeeded in striking a happy balance between the many funny situations she found herself in and the more serious aspects of her treatment.
One in three people living in the United Kingdom will statistically, at some point in their lives, contract cancer and therefore it is a subject which should be of interest to one and all.
Cancer does not recognize age, colour creed or sex. It attacks indiscriminately and its onset can strike fear into the bravest hearts.
Marvel therefore at how the author has managed to turn a potentially maudlin and depressing subject into an easy read but nevertheless heart warming and inspiring.
Jean Charity, originally from Derby in the United Kingdom but now residing in Spain covers the subject in her own inimitable style. While many would find little to find humourous in such a potentially, serious disease, Jean has succeeded in striking a happy balance between the many funny situations she found herself in and the more serious aspects of her treatment.
One in three people living in the United Kingdom will statistically, at some point in their lives, contract cancer and therefore it is a subject which should be of interest to one and all.
Cancer does not recognize age, colour creed or sex. It attacks indiscriminately and its onset can strike fear into the bravest hearts.
Marvel therefore at how the author has managed to turn a potentially maudlin and depressing subject into an easy read but nevertheless heart warming and inspiring.
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- Author: Jean Charity
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. off.’ These were not my words. They were Louise’s words and I knew she was there, supporting me. It made me laugh.
A lot of comfort, humour, and encouragement has come to me through the thoughts and memories of her. I miss her.
My father was another person who was concerned with his appearance, always immaculately turned-out. Even on the evening he died, before he fell into a coma, he insisted I hand him his hair-brush; and although he barely had the strength to lift his arm, he gave his still-wonderful head of hair a ‘touch’ of the brush.
The fortitude and non-complaining attitude of that wonderfully brave and gutsy man was an illuminating experience for me, and I am so very, very proud of him. I was privileged to have been his daughter, and I only wish I’d thought to tell him that whilst he was still alive.
Special tribute as far as attitude is concerned must go to the daughter of friends of mine, who did unbelievably well whilst in remission from leukaemia. She raised over £4,000 plus Gift Aid for CLIC (Cancer/Leukaemia in Children) by doing a sky dive with the Red Devils jumping from 13,000 feet and freefalling for 8,000 feet. She then went on a kayaking expedition to Alaska; and caught up with her studies to exceptional level. For dedication, determination, endurance and sheer courage she is second-to-none. She is an incredible young lady – and a shining example of a, sadly, often criticised younger generation.
To move away from cancer for a moment, but relevant with regard to attitude, is that other shining example of courage over coming adversity which must have touched the hearts of everyone in the UK, as that little lass from land-lubbed Derbyshire (which also happens to be my own home county) sailed round the world single-handed breaking all records. She set herself a goal and undaunted, against all odds, she took on the elements and the sea and sailed to victory:
ELLEN McARTHUR.
As I watched her finish what she had set out to do, the tears were streaming down my face; and I came to the conclusion that no ‘piddling-bit-of-cancer’ was going to get the better of me. She’d DONE it. She’d come through all the hazards and set-backs and she had DONE it. She had won her battle for success. God willing, with the same dedicated determination and grit, so can we.
The endurance and fortitude of the aforementioned people (plus many more not mentioned) has influenced me greatly and provided me with the will to keep going at times when morale has been low.
Rather than depressing me, the memories of those no longer with us, and the grace and courage with which they lived their lives and coped with their illnesses, gives me great incentive and purpose. I have gained so much from them, and the essence of these very special people is still very prominent in my life.
I look upon this as their legacy to me and I am proud to have known them.
A good positive attitude is hard - nay, almost impossible to maintain when one is very sick and in pain, but by comparison serves to make the better days even more precious to be savoured and appreciated in a way which would not have been possible before.
One day, from the radio, during a ‘Thought for the Day’ or ‘Pause for Thought’ (whatever it was) I heard the words: ‘Every day holds a surprise. Sometimes good and sometimes not so good, but always a surprise’. I thought I would put this to the test and now, if it’s not been obvious to me, I always try and find my nice surprise of the day before I go to sleep. If there really isn’t one then I drift off wondering what the following day’s will be. It’s not often I can’t find something positive to warm me – an unexpected letter, an accidental meeting, a special song on the radio; finding something I thought I had lost; or even a cheeky bird being very daring and coming up close to me to remind me that I’ve not put out his breakfast. Such simple things, but pleasures I would never have thought worthy of consideration before my illness. A reminder to me of the fact that it is now the small things in life which matter to me and bring such joy; and a constant verification of my belief that out of the bad will always come some good.
FINALE
This writing was never intended to fulfil any personal egotistical ambition of my own. It can be a very lonely road one walks with cancer, no matter how many loved ones may be around offering their help and support. Feelings of isolation deep inside can surface, as they did with me at times. But now I realise that there are millions ‘out there’ in similar situations, and the road I am walking no longer feels so lonely. This is what I’ve hoped to convey to others by sharing my own personal experiences with them; and if just ONE person has achieved even a modicum of comfort from reading it, then it has been more than well worth the effort it took to write it.
This may sound very strange to some of you, but I’m glad in a way that I have been, and am going through, this experience. Whatever the outcome I cannot be sorry about it. If nothing else it is teaching me to get my priorities right, and is changing me into a different, and hopefully ultimately, much better person.
I no longer wonder what lies ahead, what my future may hold or even whether I have a future. I take a day at a time, and no matter how bad a day I may have had, at the end of it I still thank God for that day. As long as I have arms and hands with which to hold and touch; as long
as I have the ability to move around; and as long as I have the priceless gift of sight, then I know I am truly blessed; and each new day which dawns for me holds it’s own particular brand of magic – if only by virtue of the fact that I am still here to see it. I have so much to be thankful for.
When someone has remarked to me, as one or two have, that I’m ‘having a rough time’ my immediate reaction has been: ‘Oh no, I’m not. Not really.’ The survivors and non-survivors of the holocaust had a rough time; the women who were used for experimental purposes, and whose babies and families were torn away from them; and the women whose sons and lovers went ‘over’ at The Somme had a rough time. And the lads in the trenches (for most of them were only lads); and the bomber pilots setting off on what was probably to be their last night raid; and the Prisoners of War, had a rough time. My step-sister-in-law had a rough time. The people with far worse and more crippling diseases than I have a rough time, and I really can’t imagine how the families of children who have been abducted cope with that situation. There is so much of it. Far too much. Even one child is far too much, and not even faith can ease the pain they and their families must suffer.
‘Not a rough time’ I tell them ‘just a blip – a blot on my landscape – that’s all.’
We all have our crosses to bear, whoever we are, and at the end of the day it isn’t what we have to bear that’s important – it’s how we deal with it. It’s the attitude with which we approach it; and with regard to this we have total freedom of choice. Whether we choose to treat our trials and tribulations as tragedies (and I’m not referring to horrendous catastrophies or disasters here) or whether we choose to treat them as challenges to be met head-on, and from which we may learn, is entirely up to us. It is our individual right to make that choice – and to live with the consequences.
My Faith has been, and is, my preservation and my light at the end of every tunnel, and – again – it isn’t into what one puts one’s Faith that’s important. It’s putting it into something which makes the difference. There is evil in the world, plenty of it, but there is also goodness and righteousness; and it’s choosing to ‘walk in the light’ rather than in the shadows which can help us through.
In closing there’s a two-line rhyme which I really love and which I would like to share with you:
Two men behind their Prison bars
One saw walls; One saw Stars
KEEP SEEING THE STARS
Good luck and God Bless you. J.C. Palma – 2005
N.B.
Tragically Sharon left us in October 2007
Before she passed away she extracted a promise from me to get this writing published and available to other cancer sufferers. I am honoured and humbled to be able to keep that promise to her.
She is very greatly missed.
Imprint
A lot of comfort, humour, and encouragement has come to me through the thoughts and memories of her. I miss her.
My father was another person who was concerned with his appearance, always immaculately turned-out. Even on the evening he died, before he fell into a coma, he insisted I hand him his hair-brush; and although he barely had the strength to lift his arm, he gave his still-wonderful head of hair a ‘touch’ of the brush.
The fortitude and non-complaining attitude of that wonderfully brave and gutsy man was an illuminating experience for me, and I am so very, very proud of him. I was privileged to have been his daughter, and I only wish I’d thought to tell him that whilst he was still alive.
Special tribute as far as attitude is concerned must go to the daughter of friends of mine, who did unbelievably well whilst in remission from leukaemia. She raised over £4,000 plus Gift Aid for CLIC (Cancer/Leukaemia in Children) by doing a sky dive with the Red Devils jumping from 13,000 feet and freefalling for 8,000 feet. She then went on a kayaking expedition to Alaska; and caught up with her studies to exceptional level. For dedication, determination, endurance and sheer courage she is second-to-none. She is an incredible young lady – and a shining example of a, sadly, often criticised younger generation.
To move away from cancer for a moment, but relevant with regard to attitude, is that other shining example of courage over coming adversity which must have touched the hearts of everyone in the UK, as that little lass from land-lubbed Derbyshire (which also happens to be my own home county) sailed round the world single-handed breaking all records. She set herself a goal and undaunted, against all odds, she took on the elements and the sea and sailed to victory:
ELLEN McARTHUR.
As I watched her finish what she had set out to do, the tears were streaming down my face; and I came to the conclusion that no ‘piddling-bit-of-cancer’ was going to get the better of me. She’d DONE it. She’d come through all the hazards and set-backs and she had DONE it. She had won her battle for success. God willing, with the same dedicated determination and grit, so can we.
The endurance and fortitude of the aforementioned people (plus many more not mentioned) has influenced me greatly and provided me with the will to keep going at times when morale has been low.
Rather than depressing me, the memories of those no longer with us, and the grace and courage with which they lived their lives and coped with their illnesses, gives me great incentive and purpose. I have gained so much from them, and the essence of these very special people is still very prominent in my life.
I look upon this as their legacy to me and I am proud to have known them.
A good positive attitude is hard - nay, almost impossible to maintain when one is very sick and in pain, but by comparison serves to make the better days even more precious to be savoured and appreciated in a way which would not have been possible before.
One day, from the radio, during a ‘Thought for the Day’ or ‘Pause for Thought’ (whatever it was) I heard the words: ‘Every day holds a surprise. Sometimes good and sometimes not so good, but always a surprise’. I thought I would put this to the test and now, if it’s not been obvious to me, I always try and find my nice surprise of the day before I go to sleep. If there really isn’t one then I drift off wondering what the following day’s will be. It’s not often I can’t find something positive to warm me – an unexpected letter, an accidental meeting, a special song on the radio; finding something I thought I had lost; or even a cheeky bird being very daring and coming up close to me to remind me that I’ve not put out his breakfast. Such simple things, but pleasures I would never have thought worthy of consideration before my illness. A reminder to me of the fact that it is now the small things in life which matter to me and bring such joy; and a constant verification of my belief that out of the bad will always come some good.
FINALE
This writing was never intended to fulfil any personal egotistical ambition of my own. It can be a very lonely road one walks with cancer, no matter how many loved ones may be around offering their help and support. Feelings of isolation deep inside can surface, as they did with me at times. But now I realise that there are millions ‘out there’ in similar situations, and the road I am walking no longer feels so lonely. This is what I’ve hoped to convey to others by sharing my own personal experiences with them; and if just ONE person has achieved even a modicum of comfort from reading it, then it has been more than well worth the effort it took to write it.
This may sound very strange to some of you, but I’m glad in a way that I have been, and am going through, this experience. Whatever the outcome I cannot be sorry about it. If nothing else it is teaching me to get my priorities right, and is changing me into a different, and hopefully ultimately, much better person.
I no longer wonder what lies ahead, what my future may hold or even whether I have a future. I take a day at a time, and no matter how bad a day I may have had, at the end of it I still thank God for that day. As long as I have arms and hands with which to hold and touch; as long
as I have the ability to move around; and as long as I have the priceless gift of sight, then I know I am truly blessed; and each new day which dawns for me holds it’s own particular brand of magic – if only by virtue of the fact that I am still here to see it. I have so much to be thankful for.
When someone has remarked to me, as one or two have, that I’m ‘having a rough time’ my immediate reaction has been: ‘Oh no, I’m not. Not really.’ The survivors and non-survivors of the holocaust had a rough time; the women who were used for experimental purposes, and whose babies and families were torn away from them; and the women whose sons and lovers went ‘over’ at The Somme had a rough time. And the lads in the trenches (for most of them were only lads); and the bomber pilots setting off on what was probably to be their last night raid; and the Prisoners of War, had a rough time. My step-sister-in-law had a rough time. The people with far worse and more crippling diseases than I have a rough time, and I really can’t imagine how the families of children who have been abducted cope with that situation. There is so much of it. Far too much. Even one child is far too much, and not even faith can ease the pain they and their families must suffer.
‘Not a rough time’ I tell them ‘just a blip – a blot on my landscape – that’s all.’
We all have our crosses to bear, whoever we are, and at the end of the day it isn’t what we have to bear that’s important – it’s how we deal with it. It’s the attitude with which we approach it; and with regard to this we have total freedom of choice. Whether we choose to treat our trials and tribulations as tragedies (and I’m not referring to horrendous catastrophies or disasters here) or whether we choose to treat them as challenges to be met head-on, and from which we may learn, is entirely up to us. It is our individual right to make that choice – and to live with the consequences.
My Faith has been, and is, my preservation and my light at the end of every tunnel, and – again – it isn’t into what one puts one’s Faith that’s important. It’s putting it into something which makes the difference. There is evil in the world, plenty of it, but there is also goodness and righteousness; and it’s choosing to ‘walk in the light’ rather than in the shadows which can help us through.
In closing there’s a two-line rhyme which I really love and which I would like to share with you:
Two men behind their Prison bars
One saw walls; One saw Stars
KEEP SEEING THE STARS
Good luck and God Bless you. J.C. Palma – 2005
N.B.
Tragically Sharon left us in October 2007
Before she passed away she extracted a promise from me to get this writing published and available to other cancer sufferers. I am honoured and humbled to be able to keep that promise to her.
She is very greatly missed.
Imprint
Publication Date: 08-17-2010
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