steph and bike dunlaoire 022

About Two weeks after my surgery, I was cycling along wearing my post surgery garb.
A pair of wide pyjama bottoms to which I could pin my surgical drains, to prevent them getting tangled in the spokes.

(These drains were still in place because my body was not yet diverting the lymph to the next set of nodes, now that the groin one’s had been removed) and a long skirt to hide my swollen leg, which, with its zigzag scar (think shark bite appearance)was no longer a pretty sight.
It was hot and I was feeling grumpy.
It was one of my ‘not fair why me’ days.

I did my shopping and began cycling home by the sea.
Oh how I longed for a swim!
But with the drains in, a swim was not an option.
I turned away sadly, caught my foot on one of the drain tubes and over I went, shopping and all.
I wasn’t hurt and thankfully hadn’t pulled either of my drains out but I sat on the ground feeling very sorry for myself.I just wanted to sit there miserably FOREVER!

After a while my rear end began to grow numb and I began to feel hungry and I realised that no matter how my head felt, my body would just continue on doing its ‘thing’.

easter and flowers at lanesville 143
Back home sitting in my favourite chair with my bamboo rustling behind and surrounded by my pots of flowering bits and pieces, I made a promise that what ever came my way I would always look for the good side and that I would leave that grumpy side back where I had fallen.easter and flowers at lanesville 136.

Easier said than done!
I had a long way to go yet.
I hadn’t even started my year of Interferon treatment, which by all accounts would not be pleasant.

I needed a project to look forward to when all this was over.
Something I could spend the long winter days planning and dreaming about when I was too weak to do anything.

But what?.

That night I dreamt I was cycling endlessly along a river, pedalling and pedalling without stopping. My leg was getting tired but in my dream I was smiling.

Next Morning a friend came for coffee.
She handed me a book.
It was about cycling the canal du Midi..

‘That’s it’ I cried in amazement!
‘That’s the river in my dream’!

I thought for a moment…
‘You know’? I looked at her seriously.
‘When all this is over I won’t just cycle the canal du Midi! I will cycle from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean.

‘You’ll need to sell that Yellow thing so’ she laughed ‘And buy a mountain bike instead’.

I looked across at my lovely Yellow bike.
‘Nope’ I shook my head ‘We’re in this together! the yellow bike and Me’
And so we were.
But that’s another story.