The day before tomorrow

This is going to be a bit of a personal blog post.

On Monday, I have to go to the hospital for a curretage, where they scrape some cells of the uterus wall to get them examined, making sure they are not cancerous.

I thought I’d be OK, and it is probably nothing, but the closer it comes, the more nervous I get. I have been there before. In 2005 I felt a little lump in my breast. ‘It is probably nothing’ was what everyone told me, until I got the results. It was stage 3 cancer. 3 Operations, 6 weeks of radio therapy, 6 months of chemotherapy, and a year of Herceptine treatment later, I survived, and I never thought I’d have to face a thing like this again.

My children were small then, the youngest 4, and the eldest 11. Now they are all grown up. And it ‘probably is nothing’, but I wish I had my relatives here, or at least someone to feel at home with. It is very difficult to go through trauma like this on your own, and that is what I am. I am now divorced and living with my daughter who has her own struggles with health issues.

I was thinking about how nice it would be to have someone to really love me. But then again, I have an army of people who do love me, both here, in Belgium and as far as Burundi, Uganda and even the US. The difference being I can’t tell everyone what is wrong. Not even my children. I have to keep it to myself and it is taking over this weekend.

Being in this situation makes me think of my life. Did I live it right? Did I do right by everyone? Why am I alone? What am I passing on to my children?

me and my kids in 2009 on the ferry from Dover to Calais

I have no wealth, not even any possessions to give away. But I think I have taught my children what it means to love. I do think, although I am left with very little, that my children are proud of me, of how I have stood up for what I believe in, and how I have touched the world around me.

That should suffice. I do of course regret not having anyhing in terms of possessions. I have been thinking that through too. It is not my fault. I have tried, I have worked and had to leave my job because of my daughter’s illness. I was not entitled to anything because I was a Director of my ex’s company before we divorced. Well, I can go on, but it is boring.

I was let go of another job because I was sick twice during the probation period. So I decided to create my own job. My plan was a social enterprise, and that is not supported by LEO, or enterpreneurs allowance. you have to fend for yourself. The grants available are for enterprises that are fully active. Beats me, really, We worked for 6 years with no money, and then decided to make it work for us, but the grant givers seem to think that only those with pocketsfull can start a social enterprise. I beg to differ.

Anyway, I created my own TUS job, which means I get 230€/week before tax.

And so, here I am this evening, thinking all of this through and again realising that with being a migrant come issues like this. When you are in need, family is the best to have around you. I have found a new family here, they are wonderful, but have no right to a driver’s license.

I have worked, I am working full time every day, doing the work the government should provide, they must laugh at people like me, doing it all for nothing, or now for 230/week.

And what if the results I will get in 2 weeks are not ‘nothing’? What will the next step be? Sometimes I wish somebody could take over my life for a while, and run it for me. Outsourcing my life is what I am currently dreaming of.

Think of me on Monday, and hopefully all will be OK soon.

One thought on “The day before tomorrow

  1. I just said a prayer for you. I’ve had the cell thing done. I had where they cut a portion /piece of the uterus out to examine it to ensure no cancer…as I would go without out a period for a while, and then restart and every month have HEAVY Flow to the point I was anemic. And it was ridiculous how heavy. So, they had me go in for a procedure to ensure no cancer. There wasn’t. I’m sure you’ll be fine too! BUT, I do want to prepare you…they said they “numbed me” and they did this in the gynecologist’s office. And then told me there would be “some pressure” – I was taken aback how much the procedure was painful. If you are having a similar procedure, be prepared it’s not like a papsmear, which was what I was thinking. Then again, I’m a wimp. so, you may not even bat an eyelash. Sending you hugs!

    Like

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