Yesterday my best friend from New York called. We don’t often talk over the phone due to the 5 hour time difference so my first reaction was, ‘are you okay?’ She responded, ‘Yeah, I’m okay but tell me about your sailing adventure. Tell me everything. When do you leave? How is the boat?’
What’s this about sailing around the world and Cancer?
Two years ago, my childhood friend was diagnosed with Stage 3 Colon Cancer. She had to endure a year of chemo, radiation, and several operations. As soon as I heard her initial diagnosis I flew home to Rochester, NY to spend time with her. Over the course of her treatment I visited her as many times as I could. And once she was given the ‘all clear,’ I flew home once again to celebrate.
During my visit’s we’d hang out just like we did when we were kids
We’d chat about nothing, make a drama out of something small and giggle at things no one else would find funny. We’d take the kids to the zoo, visit family, go out for a meal or walk around the mall. I just felt the need to be next to her. Surprisingly, I felt so calm and peaceful when we were together. It just didn’t matter what we did – I just wanted to be by her side.
After telling my friend about our exciting adventure, she broke the news to me
‘Kim, the doctors found some cancerous cells. It’s not a tumor but it’s cancer. I have cancer again.’
My heart sunk, my mind raced and I became angry. And then I felt as if I fell between a chasm of opposites. Here I am about to leave for the adventure of a lifetime and at the other end of the spectrum, my dear friend is about to endure another fight for her life.
When I’m updating my blog, writing in my journal, making preparations for our sailing adventure I get lost in a flow. I lose track of time. I feel as if the greater world doesn’t exist. Everything is good, easy, expanding, and changing in a positive motion.
The contrast between thinking of flow and thinking of my friend is a big one
Not only do I feel my heartache for my friend, but my heart seems to ache for all of humanity that isn’t thriving. And as my emotions flood me I feel vulnerable. I start to spiral and ask myself, ‘what am I doing?’ ‘What happens if my hubby or daughter gets sick?’ ‘What if I get sick?’ ‘What if I need to fly home to see my friend?’ ‘What if I can’t get home?’ ‘What if we all die?’ ‘Life is serious – what am I doing trying to live the dream?’ ‘Who am I to think that life is great?’
And then I feel numb
That’s how I feel now. I want to cry but tears won’t come out. I don’t want to feed the cancer with negative vibes. I don’t want to even acknowledge it. I want my friend to be healthy, happy, and find fulfillment in her life. I want her to thrive in every sense. I want every human to thrive.
What’s the point?
There’s no point to this entry. Just to include you on my journey. It’s not all happy feelings and good things. Things like cancer still exist in my world 🙁
Watch our next video; Extra: The reason I decided to sell up and sail away (video)
Next Chapter: 31. Courses, becoming British, putting our remaining possessions on a pallet and what else?
Previous Chapter: 29. We got a gun, but not the kind you’re probably thinking of
Or…if you’d like to carry on reading all about our journey from selling up and sailing away, you can purchase my book, ‘Changing Lifestyles – Trading the Rat Race in For A Sail Around The World,’
 | READER REVIEW "I finished your book this week and absolutely loved it! It was great to read about your early days in many places we also sailed. I loved the way you combined your blogs/real life scenarios with advise on boat maintenance, letting go of your previous life and about your honestly throughout. I enjoy your style of writing Kim, and I loved the little Sienna quotes." Jayne Eames-Thornton, s/v Delphinus |
