10. Friends

Phobics need control. I’m a bit excessive, having had a lifetime’s practice. If I’m truly honest, I find friendship difficult, never feeling I can give back what I take and therefore feeling a fraud. Most of the time, I genuinely feel I don’t really belong, that I’m being tolerated and don’t much matter to people. I feel I’m unreliable, too inflexible and too self-focused. Blimey, that’s a confession. Maybe I’m missing my psychotherapy a bit.

Now I think differently. I have been amazed and stunned and overwhelmed by the consideration and support I’ve received from even the most distant of friends. Cards offering careful or clumsy comfort, apologising for the absence of comfort, flowers, plants flew through the house but two things struck me hardest: people wanted to help me and people wanted to respect my wishes. 

It’s been truly life-enhancing for someone of my age to suddenly realise that friendship doesn’t have rules. I coped initially with my trauma by keeping people at bay. Gym membership suspended meant no tai chi classes and no work outs (a risible term for a cursory session of stretches and a few weights machines). I couldn’t get to Book Group and didn’t want to go anyway. I wanted no visitors, just made the occasional phone call and quite a few texts and emails. I saw the people I needed to see (sadly, in a chauffeuring role only) and feared I was taking advantage of people.

Yet the offers were repeated. Offers came from people I knew only a little and from people I barely saw but knew from way back. Margaret, a former colleague when I was teaching, drove me to see my psychiatrist (unfortunate necessity for the prescription I require). Marilyn and Clive, Anne, Kiera, Joyce, Maureen, always there to drive me to appointments when I couldn’t yet drive myself. No questions, no complaints, just complete acceptance and kindness. I have emails from tai chi and book group members asking to be added to my list of drivers. I’m completely stunned by people’s kindness. I’m learning a lesson about life and humanity that I missed, holed up in my shell.

Here I must write about another Maureen. Tai chi Maureen. My second rock. She’d been present at our light-hearted post-tai chi briefings on my initial progress through the early part of the experience. I remember her going through the whole process herself six years ago - I think that’s how we met. She simply offered her support, said she’d take me to my first chemotherapy and introduced me to The Haven. She visited me at home and talked about her experience, has kept me reassured in what are not the easiest of circumstances as I’m not responsive to reassurance at the best of times. And she provided support for Den (who doesn’t get much consideration in all this, does he?).  I’m pretty certain that, without her calm, pragmatic reassurance, I’d have broken.