Winter Solstice 2018 and the Harbingers of Death

Having studied and taught comparative mythology, having actively practiced as a Priestess in the past before I became more involved again with traditional Roman Catholicism, I still am conscious of the Wheel of the Year and of omens, portents and messages from the Gods.

Yesterday marked the Winter Solstice.  With an overcast sky, I was unable to see the Full Moon and as far as I know, the meteor showers will occur mainly tonight.  Still, there was a powerful event that cannot be ignored and probably cannot be interpreted in another way.

Yesterday afternoon, a squirrel was killed on the road somehow, entrails strewn everywhere.  It probably was hit by a passing car.  Instantly, four vultures appeared on the scene and began to pick at the carcass.

This was followed by the appearance of two hawks who perched on the rooftop of the neighbour's house.  Obviously they were intimidated by the vultures who were bigger and far more aggressive than they.  Crows who joined the group were able to skirt the edges of the killing field, as although not equally matched, still larger and more powerful than the hawks.

I love birds of prey, especially hawks and ravens, but Vultures most definitely are the harbingers of Death.  With my Mum moving inexorably towards her death, refusing chemotherapy for her stage 4 Lymphome and my own Stage 3 Breast Cancer, it is difficult to ignore this blatant message.... The Winter Solstice traditionally was the last day when Animals who were not expected to be able to survive the Winter were slaughtered.  It thus was a Feast Day of some magnitude, followed by a great deal of labour in preserving the rest of the meat for the Winter.

Beyond the Winter Solstice by a few days is the birth of the Divine Child, whether Jesus or the old pagan future White King.  So Death IS followed by Rebirth, but... what does it portend for me?

In all honesty, although people initially were very kind and supportive, I feel like the spectre at the feast now.  Perhaps I should have been more like my own mother or my sister, who ruthlessly demand and occupy the centre of any stage, who basically are immune to the lives and problems of others, but being shoved to the side even as a very young child taught me that I never wished to be that way towards others.  I tried NOT to be that person.  I felt every one had a right to share the stage.  When I acted in the capacity of a leader, I tried to encourage others to come up to the stage.

This attitude, so carefully cultivated, now places me in virtual isolation for the most part at home.  I have to access the value of any future I may have realistically and coldly determine my own fate.

Cancer probably is one of the most TEDIOUS topics in this world.  To be forced to deal with this on a daily basis is so repugnant to me on so many levels, and yet, unfortunately, nothing has been straightforward.  I do not think members of the medical profession are truthful all the time.  I believe that with three separate tumours, they KNEW it was not Stage 1, and yet I was told initially it was Stage 1 and 'all' I needed was the removal of my left breast.

This, of course, was my worst nightmare made manifest as my Mum had suffered the same fate at the age of 42 and I became a woman with constant views of her mutilated body.  In those days, they were brutal in their solution.  They basically carved out most of her left side and her response was to gain weight.  Her response to the swollen arm caused by her lymphodema was to ignore it, so my Mother physically was the tragic ruin of a woman.  Of course, I feared that I would be doomed to the same fate... but at the same time, I did not believe that to be true necessarily and as the years passed, I actually began to believe it would NOT happen to me.

Did I not have enough serious medical problems?  Did I really need another reminder of my helplessness and ant-like proportions when faced with the infinity of the Universe?

As soon as I lost the breast, however, I was told it was not Stage 1 but Stage 3.  I was told that I would need chemotherapy, radiation and an oral medication that would have to be taken for 10 years.

I then was sent to all sorts of different doctors... to discover chemotherapy was out of the question for a start, because of my intolerance to steroids.  Three out of four of the medications would be impossible for similar reasons... or pre-existing conditions.  I am left with a medication that is sucking the life from me essentially.  I have been on Pain Management for 15 years, struggling to increase my mobility and improve my physical life and now... a fall into an abyss of pain and danger.  The side effects are brutal and dangerous.

So ... here is the existentialist question: should I take my chances with Life and eschew this medication that PROMISES a serious reduction in the quality of my life even if it suppresses the estrogen that caused my cancer?  They tell me it is Stage 3, but at this point in time, the scan shows nothing.  My Mum had the same cancer and it had gone into the lymph nodes, but she lived cancer-free for over 40 years with nothing more than radiation.  Yes, she was horribly over-radiated but I feel that does not alter the facts.  She took no medication.  She did not have chemotherapy.  I think it actually did not exist in those days.

Something will kill me in the end.  Death is inevitable.  I evidently carried this cancer in my breast for over two years before any one detected it.  I was the one who found it.  My annual mammograms did not alert any professional for whatever reason.  So, let's say I still carry this poisonous potential 'child' within me.  Should I use fire to fight fire, spending every day in a purgatory of pain and other nasty side effects, including a burning throat, non-productive cough, headaches, a fire in my loins, and the terrible ache of my bones and muscles and joints above and beyond the usual agony that sent me to Pain Management initially... or should I trust in Nature and simply let my story play out?

No Way Back

My Mum is dying and I feel I am a million miles away.  When my best friend died, I was far away and although we spoke, I thought he simply had a bad 'flu.  I was not allowed to say goodbye to my Father before he died.  Not allowed to see him...

My stepfather died on the same day as my daughter's graduation from school.  I was in no shape physically to travel for hours on a plane but had it not been a vital landmark in her life, I might have tried.

I have Stage 3 cancer myself now but what weighs me down like a mountain of stone is the shadow of my mother and her situation.  Essentially, it is the lack of knowledge, lack of access, and let's be honest here, the fact that she always has marginalised me completely and continues to do so, even at this twilight hour.  I really do believe my cancer accelerated because of my anxiety about her.

What is the 'good' outcome here for me?  I see none really.  Even if I manage to outrun the cancer, I will be forced to deal with a terrible mess when my Mum dies.  It will be brutal, for a number of reasons.  Why would she deal fairly with me and my daughter in death when she never did so in life?