On Birthdays and Shavathons

Seems like only a week ago, I was turning 21, and a few days later (OK,  it was 3 years, 7 months and 16 days later, but it felt like a few days) I dedicated my life to the woman who after 28.5 years has still not killed me. Now a few days later (yes, I know it's been 29 years), I have passed the mini-milestone of turning 53, an occurrance I was more than happy to ignore.  24 days before that, my mother had turned 83, and about 2 weeks before that, she found out she has cancer of the colon, and that at her age, any treatment would be more likely to kill her than the cancer (which is 100% likely to kill her eventually, so you get the point).


So why am I posting all this.  Well, the past weekend, CANSA (The Cancer Association of South Afica - http://www.cansa.org.za/) held the annual Shavathon. For a mere R50 (or even less if you cannot afford R50) you can choose to have your head shaved (cut to a #1 - no shorter, due to the risk of being sued if they should happen to nick someone's ear :( ) or sprayed in various colours or patterns, with the funds raised going towards supporting CANSA and it's objectives, including research.


With the cancer suddenly striking a LOT closer to home (we have previously lost family members to the horrors of cancer), there was no way I could NOT partake - I always do, but this year was more personal.  Just shaving my head (which I do regularly anyway) seemed like only going half-way, so opted for both:

At the time, it seemed like a good idea, and the cold spray was very refreshing on a hot summers day (I am in South Africa, so if you're in the northern hemisphere, trust me, it's hot down here).  The realisation came later that these sprays are for colouring hair, but when your hair has been cut to 2mm in length, the spray ends up on your SKIN, and is not so easy to wash off - even after several showers, my entire head still has a noticeably pinkish tinge to it!!!  Whatever, it's for a good cause.


What I also find odd, is that when my Dad was 50, and I was about 14, I though he was really old, and when he turned 60 (so I was 24), he was ancient.  Now I am 53, and I don't feel old, in fact I don't feel THAT much older that I did when my dad was 60.  The reality is, however, that my sons, who are 22 and 26, think I am..... well, let's say REALLY old, but not quite ancient yet.  I suppose it's all about perception. 


Which brings me back to my mother and her cancer.  She is 83, but despite the cancer is still making home-made jams, which she sells to raise funds for the church - she supplies the fruit and the sugar, but tose are HER donation, and any money which she makes from the sale of the jam goes in total to the church.  One off her regular customers saw that she was still making the jam, and said to my Mom "I thought you had cancer?".  Mom's response was absolutely brilliant: "That's what my doctor and the specialists say.  So far, though, I am still alive, so why not do what I enjoy doing while I am still alive?".  See, the perception of (and most peoples reaction to a diagnosis of) cancer, is that you lie down and die.  Mom's reaction is that it's a matter of attitude: If you give in, it will kill you quickly, but if you decide to live despite it, well then it's going to have a fight on its hands, so I will give it a run for its money". (OK, I have paraphrased what she said slightly, but I know that is her attitude) It seems to be paying off, because instead of seeing her every two weeks, her doctor has decided to only see her once a month, because she is doing so well.


A serious post, I know, but for a serious matter.  I was really disillusioned by how few people I know who, despite prodding, still did not make the effort to support a worthy cause, and especially given how few people have NOT been touched in some way by cancer. 


Maybe next year....