“in the end she died so quickly that she left everything behind and was free”. My poor recollection of the words of a dancer about the death of Pina Bausch in the movie “Pina”.
Those words got me. I cried in the dark of the theatre. I long to be free. I yearn for release.
Free of the needless. Free of the doctors who look through you. Free of the white walls, the hard beds, the rubber gloves. Free of the canulas that never seem to take first time. Free of the waiting, dreading results. Free of checking every day for spread. Free of waking every morning and being just a bit sicker, a but more disabled.
Free of fear. Free of my ever racing mind. Free of the chatter that fills me with doubt.
Free of the pain. Free of the pills. Free.
Even now my eyes fill with tears. I paint a picture with these words, I place myself in the picture and I cry. To be free, to be happy.
I sit on a couch. My abdomen hurts. I have reflux. I have no idea how far the tumours have spread throughout my body. Do I have one month left or one hundred. I surrender into the idea of freedom. I feel like I have been fighting forever. I will not fight any longer. Freedom will come one way or the other.