my sisters...

My sisters in happiness, my sisters in pain, my sisters through seasons...

One is from my blood.She the seeds of the bread that I eat, the essential flavour to make it worth to eat.
One is from the earth. So small girl, with feet that stand strong on the ground. She is the nourishing hard bread, that keeps you strong.
One is from the air. She is the breeze that whispers in my ears the truth,the world, shares the pain and my spirit. She is the freshness of the bread and the transparent idea of it.
One is from the water. So fair and innocent. She makes eating a feast, a picnic in the woods. She brings also God's creatures close, like Snow White,yes.

Indeed, love exists, goodness exists, innocence exists.
After so many disappointments, so many people unworthy, so many that left me and so many that I left behind, yes, I can say in all truth and certainty, love exists.

a prayer to God

One of my dearest mentors got news of metastasis in the bones. It felt so sad... I didn't know what to say to him. Just hoped he could feel how much he means to me and how much I pray for him. So, there are no words, no more words between us. Only hope, faith and love.
God help us, God protect us... My thoughts are with my beloved priest.

Deep deep blue...

Back from holidays with my fiancé and I feel all charged up, ready to fight once again...
After 2 years time, I went swimming once again. After one year and a half of fucking neuropathy that made my feet ache like being pinched by a million needles and half a year of this damned ileostomy, I was able to swim!!!

Skopelos Island, Greece

Oh, God, the beautiful sea of our islands, the crystal waters, the sensation of freedom, the sight of the turquoise ocean...
Swimming is holding a great importance for me. Like in Blue (Three Colors), I need to lose myself in the blue to be able to be born again, to relieve my anxiety, fear, pain. When I dive underwater, I can cry, I can scream , I can relax, I can forget, I can recharge. Yes, I feel that everything might be just fine in the end...

Sleeping...

I have spend Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and half of Friday sleeping, after chemo...
It is so exhausting...
Now I slowly drag my broken body out of the tunnel of sleep and into life again.
It is so scary, going into a sleep so deep that resembles coma. And not knowing whether it is dreams or nightmares awaiting you...
I am tired, I wast it to be over so bad. But as all of us in the 20% league of recurrence know, this is a fight that will last long. Longer than we anticipated...
So, I will pretend to my family that I can handle this -like a boss- and keep on taking it out here, where significant and insignificant stories drown in the vastness of the web...

Endymion by John Keats

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever;

Its loveliness increases; it will never

Pass into nothingness; but still will keep

A bower quiet for us, and a sleep

Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing

A flowery band to bind us to the earth,

Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth

Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,

Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways::

Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,

Some shape of beauty moves away the pall

From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,

Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon

For simple sheep; and such are daffodils

With the green world they live in; and clear rills

That for themselves a cooling covert make

'Gainst the hot season; the mid forest brake,

Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:

And such too is the grandeur of the dooms

We have imagined for the mighty dead;

All lovely tales that we have heard or read:

An endless fountain of immortal drink,

Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.

The bargain...

‘Cause they took your loved ones
But returned them in exchange for you
But would you have it any other way?
Would you have it any other way?
You couldn't have it any other way

‘Cause she’s a cruel mistress
And a bargain must be made
But oh, my love, don’t forget me
I let the water take me

Bible: 1 Corinthians 13. On love...

1 If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. 
2 If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.
 3 If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing. 

4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. 8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. 
9 For we know in part and we prophesy in part, 10 but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. 11When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. 12 Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror;then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.


Never again such beautiful words have been written on love. In Greek, these verses spoken, are sweet to the tongue, flow like honey. They melt in our soul and calm the heart, warming the cold, vanishing loneliness, inspiring the mind. 

Krzysztof Kieslowski, in his movie "Three Colors: Blue (1993)" ,

used the prototype Greek translation of these Bible verses in the "symphony for the unification of Europe". The Greek translation is the following:


Εάν ταις γλώσσαις των ανθρώπων λαλώ και των αγγέλων, 
αγάπην δε μη έχω, γέγονα χαλκός ηχών ή κύμβαλον 
αλαλάζον.
και εάν έχω προφητείαν και ειδώ τα μυστήρια 
πάντα και πάσαν την γνώσιν, και εάν έχω πάσαν την πίστιν, 
ώστε όρη μεθιστάνειν, αγάπην δε μη έχω, ουδέν ειμι.
και εάν ψωμίσω πάντα τα υπάρχοντά μου, και εάν παραδώ το σώμα 
μου ίνα καυθήσομαι, αγάπην δε μη έχω, ουδέν ωφελούμαι.

 Η αγάπη μακροθυμεί, χρηστεύεται, η αγάπη ου ζηλοί, η αγάπη 
ου περπερεύεται, ου φυσιούται, ουκ ασχημονεί, ου ζητεί τα 
εαυτής, ου παροξύνεται, ου λογίζεται το κακόν, ου χαίρει επί 
τη αδικία, συγχαίρει δε τη αληθεία. πάντα στέγει, πάντα 
πιστεύει, πάντα ελπίζει, πάντα υπομένει. η αγάπη ουδέποτε 
εκπίπτει. είτε δε προφητείαι, καταργηθήσονται. 

είτε γλώσσαι παύσονται. είτε γνώσις καταργηθήσεται. εκ μέρους δε 
γινώσκομεν και εκ μέρους προφητεύομεν. όταν δε έλθη το 
τέλειον, τότε το εκ μέρους καταργηθήσεται. ότε ήμην νήπιος, 
ως νήπιος ελάλουν, ως νήπιος εφρόνουν, ως νήπιος 
ελογιζόμην. ότε δε γέγονα ανήρ, κατήργηκα τα του νηπίου. 
βλέπομεν γαρ άρτι δι΄εσόπτρου εν αινίγματι, τότε δε 
πρόσωπον προς πρόσωπον. άρτι γινώσκω εκ μέρους, τότε δε 
επιγνώσομαι καθώς και επεγνώσθην.
νυνί δε μένει πίστις, 
ελπίς, αγάπη, τα τρία ταύτα. μείζων δε τούτων η αγάπη.

Zbigniew Preisner, the composer of the original music, created indeed, a haunting soundtrack, that compliments this exceptional film.  "Three Colors: Blue" is concentrated on a woman's mourning and her grief process. Words cannot express the depth and intensity of this film, as the makers explore the complexity of Julie's emotions towards her only daughter's loss and her later husbands infidelity. Key element in Blue, is a blue sphere, the only remaining link between Julie and her child and a symphony, her husband's work that is left unfinished with his death. I will say no more, because in the end, Blue is a "heavy" film that has to be seen with the heart, to be experienced and only once you immense yourself in Julie's world you can acknowledge the directors perspective.  Below is the fore mentioned "song for the unification of Europe", a title that probably does no right to this beautiful piece.

  

bloging with cancer

I have been reading many blogs on cancer and I noticed that usually the authors talk about their chemo/surgery/side effects experiences. I find it amazing...
The thing is that -being through chemo- I am unable to talk about it. Just thinking about it makes my skin shiver, it brings a foul taste in my mouth and my hands begin to sweat. Even when my friends ask "how was it this time?", I prefer to change the subject.
So, what about those amazing people who have not only the strength to bear it but also to talk,share and even joke about it!

There is a blog about a small girl, Lydia, that has been fighting cancer for years. Her father is sharing his fears ,hope and ultimately their triumph with the readers and his posts bring tears to our eyes. I cannot begin to imagine how his and his wife's life was all these years. But his hope and his dignity are shining as a beacon to all of us, giving us an example of a person. The blog is http://lydia-tigria.blogspot.gr/ but unfortunately is written in Greek...

I found also blogs of patients that passed away, and I stay silent for a minute, to pay respect for their life and their final battle. I wish I had the chance to meet Christine, to share a smile, at a time that words are useless. I wish I had known this world and these people earlier, for I found the meaning of life in them. I should be so grateful that I have the chance to live a life full of meaning, full of self-conscience and full of happiness. Of course I wish this sickness to go and I suffer as all of us but in the end, no use crying over it, life is life and we must live it through dark times as through happy times.
After all, I promised to my love, Andrei that I will stay here for a long time...

...there is always hope...

On religion and Love

I am living for more than a year in the world of cancer. I met so many people, I heard so many stories, I saw so many tears of pain/of happiness/of gratitude. One thing is for sure: After a point, your only hope of survival is either God, or at least your inner hardness.
For me, it's God. I have been in agnosticism for most of my life, but some time before I got diagnosed and from then on, I saw a certain pattern in things. I have always been searching for clues, in earth, in people, in the air around. The traces of something more than mortality. And once I have seen enough, being forced to look death in the face, it all started making sense. Going through a serious illness might either terminate you or open your eyes wide...

And I have seen. The vast universe, the change of seasons, the magnificence of birth, the complexity of  organisms, the depth of human soul, the capacity of individuals to destroy or create, the miracles while hope is long gone. I learned about lost gods, about mother Earth, about hedonism, about morality and immorality.
Our world, this world full of diversity and colour is only a grain of sand in the universe and our life is less than milliseconds in an endlessness of time.
It is difficult to imagine any importance in our existence, isn't it? And yet, there is when God comes and puts everything into place. In my orthodox Christian dogma, apart from the cold ,often misjudged exterior, there is a deep mystical current. If you are lucky, persistent and find the true people of God and read with your heart the scriptures, all is unveiled. I don't mean to convert or make any propaganda here. After all, I believe that there is only one universal truth that can be reached through most religions, or can be experienced through remote and mere observation of the world. Ancient Greek philosophers had in my opinion accumulated deep knowledge on this. All I am saying is that God is there, but he needs us to open the door, invite him in with an open heart and shall not leave us alone, ever. Down in the darkest pit, in the deepest despair, God is offering his hand, relieving our pain, giving us a reason to go on.
I believe in freedom, in acceptance and I respect all beliefs. Because the God I believe in, is not only embracing everyone with love but is also the God of those who hurt, the homeless, the despaired, the repenting, the lonely, the scared, the weak, the faulty, everyone that will call him.

And last but not least: until the time that no love can be given and no love can be received, this life will be worth living...

2nd of the 2nd of the 2nd!

Yesterday was the second chemotherapy, of the second circle of chemotherapies, of the second time I got cancer. Hihi. Fun times...
However, my scary scary doctor that enjoys telling me always the <<truth>>  ,(quoting: "well, if you have five more metastasis next time, evidently this chemo isn't working and (subtext) you're screwed...") said that the last CT's are good. Which means they are veery good. Weeee! Good for him also because I experience a terror inflicted nausea in his office and recently I was ready to puke on his doorstep. He just dodged a bullet there.
I don't know why he always has this deadly seriousness and he prefers to highlight the difficulties, the bad chances, the worst case scenarios. Yes dear, by now I have realised exactly where I stand. But, please , do not drain my hope, do not scare me more. Give me a reason to keep up, inspire me, help me, sympathise with my pain, be my real doctor. In my case, statistics are not good, so I need all my strength and courage. I need to fight and if you, my doctor, do not believe in me, you hurt my morale, you make me stumble, you demotivate me.
Just don't take my hope away...

Haruki Murakami

Haruki Murakami, is considered one of the most prestigious contemporary writers and his works are considered to reflect the spirit of Mono no aware. 

Norwegian Wood is one of his most-sold novels and I admit, it made a huge impression to me when I read it. It is difficult to capture the feelings it conjures but one thing is for certain: it cannot pass unnoticed! Rumour has it that it was banned from summer reading in some New Jersey schools because of parents' complaints - they found that it contained explicit scenes and deemed it inappropriate for teenagers. 

Well, personally I condemn any form of censorship and find it plainly stupid to accuse literature for corruption since the birth of TV and Internet,so I keep being a fan and...

...here is a list of his novels and I intend to read as many as possible, so can have a more spherical opinion of his work...

• Hear the Wind Sing (1971)

• Pinball, 1973 (1980)

• Wild Sheep Chase, a (1982)

• Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World (1985)

• Norwegian Wood (1987)

• Dance Dance Dance (1988)

• South of the Border, West of the Sun (1992)

• Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, the (1994)

• Sputnik Sweetheart, the (1999)

• Kafka on the Shore (2002)

• After Dark (2004)

Puppylicious

Keira. 

Chopin, Silvi and their puppies. 

Melissa, my ginger labrador

Irvin Yalom, the famous psychiatrist,  does suggest that human bond is one of the limited things that can relieve us from the anxiety of death and the only real source of fulfilment in our mortal life. During his work with several patients with terminal cancer or even adults with severe death anxiety, he used the human bond in order to put under control the overwhelming stress on the prospect of death.


What he has not explored however, is the second most important bond. The bond between animals and humans. Dogs and horses and rarely cats are offering a lot to cancer patients, giving them the sense of unconditional love and caring. They also drive thinking away from ominous, unsettling thoughts. 
Of course, none of these are news but one cannot overstress enough their importance in the quality of life of patients. Patients tend to feel lonely and lost in their often nightmarish life events, but loved ones and spending time with animals soothes these feelings and gives meaning to life.

After my second surgery, during chemo, I got Melissa, a ginger labrador, that changed my life. She is constantly causing chaos because of her puppy energy but spending one day without her makes me lose my smile. Sometimes we can her Meli, from the greek word for honey because she is the sweetest one, sometimes we call her Melissaki, from the greek word for little bee, because she keeps buzzing for hours over our heads. In any case, she gets tons of love, my spoilt little one.

Something broken.

While I was waiting for the results of my CT scans, to see what happened with the metastasis in the liver, something changed in me. All this fear of hearing potential bad news rose to a point of no comparison. I feel like there was a string in my heart that got stretched way too far. And then, it broke.
From that moment, I cannot connect with my feelings as I did. I am constantly searching for distractions, whatever might keep my attention so I won't think about my condition.
Maybe a part of my soul switched off, trying to protect me from falling into pieces, from having a nervous breakdown. 
Even though the news were encouraging, I will never be the same. I cannot talk any more of my pain and my fear because simply, the horror is too much to put into words. Only those that faced the same situation can understand. These are things that normally, no one touches in conversation, taboos. And yet, now I have to deal with it every day.
Don't get me wrong, I am not as desperate or as gloomy as I sound. But this blog' s purpose is to merely mirror deep feelings that I can't usually entrust to my loved ones. How can I say to my sister that looks on me for a role model that I am battling with desperation, fear, loss of faith, loss of incentive to keep fighting. How can I tell her that sometimes, I just get so tired of fighting that I am afraid I will just give up and get lost in depression?
No, I have to keep a face, be strong, be brave, be true, be more than this mortal flesh, be someone that leaves the world a better place, someone that filled a lifetime with love and caresses.
I wish to be a person radiating warmth, safety, faith, inner beauty. My body might be cut and sewed back, my external beauty gone, but I can still offer so much to my loved ones.
This is my war, and I intend to fight with teeth and nails.

Notes on a cemetery..

I always found the sight of cemeteries appealing.
One might rush into a conclusion that I am morbid, but truth is far from that.
Cemeteries can be fascinating. They represent the culture and the beliefs of a religion and of individuals and blah blah blah..
I could say so much about their significance culturally but in the end what draws me into these places is always the calmness. There is a sensation of peace and loneliness that leads to deeper thoughts. Thoughts of our transient nature, of impermanence, of life and death, of wishes, of time.
Monks and philosophers used to keep rooms with view of cemeteries or they kept in their room objects reminding of death.
"Memento mori" they called it. Quoting Wikipedia: "[it is] a Latin phrase translated as "Remember your mortality", "Remember you must die" or "Remember you will die".It refers to a genre of artworks that vary widely but which all share the same purpose: to remind people of their mortality.."
And remembering our mortality is -opposed to what most people believe- the start of the most fulfilled and rich life. For knowing how to die is knowing how to live.
Being aware of how short and unpredictable life is, lets us appreciate the moments. Prompts us not to keep malice between each other, because what today angers us in aspect of death it means nothing, while love and kindness means everything.
Would you keep being angry at your partner if you knew you would never see him the next day? No.
Would you cry and be depressed over what a client shouted at you at work if you knew you had only a month left to live? No
My favorite psychiatrist-author ,Irvin Yalom, says :"Although the physicality of death destroys man, the idea of death saves him".
In the end, conscience is what separates us from animals, and knowledge is our burden and our privilege as a species, as God's image creatures and as individuals.

The sound of sea

So, I came home, to my fiance' and I started research on my health choices.
Crap. I called the Mc Millan support and they asked me whether I would like to participate in clinical trials.
And then I felt like my heart skipped a beat.
So, this is it, the stage that the doctors start to say: "Sorry, we have no more to offer you, do you want to try something alternative?"
I want to keep hoping but at the same time I just want to let go, lie in my love's arms in an isolated beach and die with the sound of waves in the back of my head.
I am so tired.