Reflections and images from a growth-time
The medicaments against my cancer were only partially successful. I do still good enough, the doubt and anxiety are in that “still”. I have challenged all treatments (stam-transplantations and chemios) with an attitude of critical realism and I continued to work as if the cancer was not there. I taught, I promoted my projects, had conferences, wrote books, organized cultural events, engaged in the public debate.
I feel very injuried when people (practically all people) say me that “working help me to forget and not think about illness”.
Io think about my illness and I work, not at all because this helps me to not think but simply because my job and my engagement are important (objcetively important). I think about my illness and I live, I think and enjoy, I think about it and I make people around me smiling, I think about it and, when I need, I cry, I think about it and I play music, write poems and everything.
Many people ask me about treatments and dangers and pains. They expect that I present the list of my sufferings, fears and worries. Perhaps they could be satisfied than by offering their pity and solidarity. These are without cost!
They admire and seem to be puzzled, even irritated because I speak about my cancer realistically, without telling that positivity is sufficent to win and hope to heal and that my good face is the undoubtful sign that I am good and healthy. All know that cancer is visible only when it is going to kill.
I speak about my cancer: I have spoken with my students, I appeared bald in the places where I normally act. Knowing cancer means to not tell fairy tales. Knowing cancer means to live because the life encompasses everything.
Of course, it would be better do not have the spectre that an illness can shorten your life. But the life ancompasses also illness and death. Knowing cancer means to not hide it, do not hide the signs if they are there, do not deny that it can attack everyone.
“Why happened just to me?” for this question we can not find an answer because it is a inhuman question. We should think about injustice. But cancer and illness have nothing to do with justice or unjustice. Nobody deserves illness. We are all alike, with merits and faults, and all deserve happiness and life.
For this reason I have showed to everyone that I have cancer and I don’t mask not even in the pages of this journal. Also isert 2 galleries, mixed images of smiling and suffering times, hope and sadness.[nggallery id=8][nggallery id=7]
