I had a wriggly sort of night. I thought that Cancer lumps weren't supposed to hurt? Isn't that the point, that these sinister growths creep round the body's pain warning alarm system? No one seems to have pointed this out to my Cancer which was throbbing away at 2.30am no matter which way I lay.
So I got up at 6am and the sun was shining so I went for a walk in the park next door. Park doesn't really do it justice; it's not a London park with a stretch of dog-poo grass, a few benches and couple of swings. This is a rolling sweep of woodland and windy paths, lakes with sunbathing geese and slopes full of bunnies nibbling the grass.
It's pretty difficult to be downcast in a place as gorgeous as that in the early morning sunshine. So I found myself realising how lucky I have been. If Cancer had to come knocking at my door, then it chose a good time to come visiting.
It didn't arrive three years ago when I was a newly arrived expat with no friends and no idea how to do anything. It wasn't sprung on us in a year's time when our contract will be over and we will be surrounded by boxes and en route to an Unknown Destination. We aren't living far away in a developing country, but in a country with a fabulous medical service and just a hop away from home shores.
And right next door to a glorious park. Oh, and a nice little bakers. What? Did you think my walk in park was just for the exercise?
There's nothing like a freshly made Belgian croissant for breakfast to chase those blues away.
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