Archive for February, 2015

Apple blossom rain

Through inky dark shades, another world
you walk, across the street
where apple blossom rains on either side;
the tree itself a glorious eruption of a Summer.

Fruit will come later on in time, in lesser sunshine.
We won’t taste the sweet sourness of a bitter fall together.
This precious moment should be ours,
In pinkish snow, in radiant love and youth.

I imagine you crossing the street out of darkness
But in a flash you disappear and you were never there.
The tree shows only bare and dried out branches.
Another world we could have lived in, gone again.

Life goes on, even with stomach cancer

An update. (by Toussaint Schroders)
Toussaint’s blog

It has been a while since I wrote here. Everyone who responded here and in person, thank you! To have cancer and lead a life beside that unwanted and pushy guest is a daytime job. In my case I have been through an abyss at times. The chemo seems to work fine, but is undermining my energy levels. Well it could be the chemo, as it is not likely that the cancer itself is causing the fatigue. I find myself sitting in a wheelchair. A barrier I fought against for too long and too self-willed. Now I do use the thing, it is a wonderful tool. I am being moved. Thanks to and with aid from my dear partner I am getting places now without panting for ten minutes getting my breath. Professionals at ferries and taxis proof to know what they are doing and are friendly assistants. I shall probably meet a grumpy person now and then, but I shall always remember I came across these kind people during my first wheelchair experiences.

Fortunately the oncologist had a good cure: a few days with no chemo, then start again but with a lower dose. Eventually the body has to be in such shape that it can deliver resistance to the cancer. And that chemo also needs a body in reasonable shape to do the work. The short interruption has worked, I started chemo again but I have recovered enough to be able to at some food now, the mood is better and the fatigue a lot less.

About this fatigue: I had no idea this was possible. I call it a sort of “perverse fatigue” and not in the sense of Freud’s meaning to this concept, but more as unnatural, unwanted and disgusting. It is fine to be tired, very tired even, after a chore, sport or other performance. It is different when swaying your legs out of bed is enough to make your body scream “tired, back to bed” . I hear this from more people with chemo, the only comfort is that it will pass.
Fortunately there are more things to fill my life with, apart from being “cancer patient”. With thanks to my dear ones I was able to have a wonderful turn of the year. Intensive beach- and nature drives with friends to show us around. Wonderful hours which I shall never forget.

And I feel strongly involved again in local politics. Even if the voice is a bit wheezy and I can’t attend everything, I am there and I contribute. I also get annoyed over ranting and negativism. I worry about plans the government has with our island. And think along with plans and intentions concerning the future, when I won’t be here anymore, as of course most of us do, but with a diagnosis as mine, it is made crystal clear to a person Strangely enough that doesn’t bother me, it is more of a stimulants. Even when all my atoms shall be absorbed by the universe, life will go on here and it is a stimulating and positive idea to think of that already, and to try and leave things in a reasonable state for our offspring.

I shall leave it at this on this lovely Sundaymorning (Feb. 15). The truce in Ukraine not yet shot to pieces, but people killed in Copenhagen and as it looks now, our freedom of speech and diversity threathened again. The world goes on, sometimes incredibly barbaric, sometimes heartwarmingly beautiful.
Like our National Thinker said: “Everyone can die, but to make something of life before that, is a lot of fuss.”


For months we moved in rituals that went beyond my memory
Gliding through days of oblivion, from darkness to darkness
A mist between us and time, the world moving faster or slower.
No mind seemed present, pain did not need to be killed
As it reminded me of life.

And yet flowers start all over, this frolic habit of a stubborn cyclus.
And it is so beautiful outdoors, I say. But still a bit too cold.
You wear your winter head-gear with the pride of a king.
My new ritual is making photos of your face,
not sure my memory will keep. Springtime!

In the spotlight…

My American publisher has put me in the spotlight, so have a look 🙂

Author spotlight

These are strange days for my husband and me, some are better than others. Things like this (the spotlight article) are a nice distraction. ❤


So much could be better:
The lives of pot plants, nutritious thoughts,
Me as your companion.

Predisposing factors for sadness.
Your smile means everything to me now
But you take mine for a grin.

My smile could be better,
I bought some hyacinths not yet blooming
And I contemplate about us a lot.

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