I had just found out that I had breast cancer, that I needed a lumpectomy, and that my long, natural curls were also going to come off. Where I had once regarded Nicol Kidman as being short on follicles, I was going to be envying Bruce Willis. Of far more concern was the self-pity alert flashing up on my mental dash bord. I needed to act fast to find a pragmatic approach to all this before valuable energy was wasted on despondency.
Once again, I headed for the hills to look for an answer. I heard it before I saw it. A hollering with a whistling on the wind. What came into view was a force of nature at it’s most sensible.
Every village used to have a wise woman. Dispensing useful advice about this and that. Curing the odd rash while living with assorted wildlife. These days you get self-styled life coaches or anaemic looking young ladies wanting to wave a fist full of crystals at you while chanting their business account details. But if you look hard round here you can find the genuine modern article. Wondering the hills clad in stout boots, green wax jackets and a collection of dog whistles. They are usually accompanied by a highly obedient pack of hounds. The only person I know that can make three springer spaniels stand to attention. The go to lady for all matters dog or all matters where straight talking is needed.
We walked together while I got the latest local news on sheep rustling and chainsaw thefts. To prevent rustlers one farmer had dyed their sheep a pink so shocking the hill looked like an explosion in a candy floss factory.
‘I have got breast cancer’ I announced.
‘Off or out?’ Was the response.
‘What?’
‘Breast off or cut out?’
I said it was going to be a lumpectomy. This got a curt nod with the opinion that that cutting the thing out was a certainty. No messing, just remove it like an unwanted tick from a dog’s coat.
I explained about the chemo. It would be a belt and braces approach; the chemo would get anything that was as yet undetected but would make my hair fall out. Did she have any advice?
‘Yes, cut it! Take control! Be the boss! Don’t wait for it. Be in charge!’
‘That’s a good way of looking at it.’ I said feeling more positive.
‘More importantly it won’t block the plug so much if it is shorter.’
I had not thought of that, but it was a good point.
‘Your hair will be shorter, it will still fall out but now, is your chance for revenge!’ She pointed to my side where my collie was trying his best to look well behaved.
‘Once those hairs start to fall go and stand over his cushion and get your own back for all that fur on your sofa!’
