I've opted make life easier on myself by not writing Christmas cards this year - I hope you'll forgive the lack of personalised communication. A number of people have told me that they like the blog and have found it a useful way of keeping up to date with what's happening with me, so although of course I don't know how others find it, I hope that it doesn't feel too impersonal a medium for a Christmas message.
I've been very moved by all your comments on the blog - what lovely people you are! - as well as your emails and other messages of support. It means a huge amount to me and has made me feel extremely cared about. I guess life-threatening illness (or any crisis) can be very isolating, since no-one else can know exactly how you feel, and sometimes writing the blog feels a bit lonely as there's no way of knowing whether people will read it or what they'll think, so getting your feedback has been very reassuring and encouraging. And I've been amazed to realise just how many people have been concerned about me - not just those who are close in my everyday life, but extended family, colleagues from work and my professional networks, and friends and acquaintances from school, university, travelling, orchestras past and present, group holidays, the clinic... It's made me appreciate how we can be touched, even in small ways, by everyone we come across, and that all kinds of relationships with other people - personal, professional, social, incidental - go into making our experiences, and our sense of ourselves, what they are. I feel very blessed to have so many people take an interest in me and wish me well, and although I've been pretty rubbish at saying it individually, I'm overawed by that, and can't thank you enough.
In terms of my plans for Christmas: in spite of being newly retired on health grounds (or actually, in defiance of it!), I'm now off for a week's skiing in Val d'Isere, and am incredibly excited about it. Skiing has long been a passion of mine, and when I had to cancel a ski trip in January 2010 (I'd just started chemo, and besides was feeling pretty weak), I was gutted to think I probably wouldn't ski again. My next trip to Germany is just after New Year, which is a slightly longer window between treatments than usual, so this was the perfect opportunity to go. Plus I'm very aware of the importance of seizing the moment while I'm well enough. So although I'm prepared to take things as gently as I need to, I'm thrilled to be going.
When I get back I'll be spending Christmas with my sisters and their families, my father and his wife - all the Kapps together - and am really looking forward to it. I wish all of you a wonderful Christmas - I hope that wherever you are and whoever you spend it with, it will be full of warmth and affection and fun. Whether for you it's a spiritual occasion, or a welcome break from work, or a reunion with family and friends, or a chance to indulge and kick back, I wish you and those who are close to you all happiness, health and good cheer for both Christmas and the New Year. May 2012 bring joy to all of us!
Much love to you all, Sylvia
I've been very lucky to have generous sick leave (6 months on full pay followed by 6 months on half pay) from my job as a clinical psychologist. A locum has been covering part of my post, but as the 1-year mark came round I had to decide whether or not to return to work, and after a lot of thought, I've decided not to. A significant part of the job is doing therapy, which means committing to however long clients need (often up to 3 or 4 months), and I simply don't feel able to plan that far ahead on a continuous basis - although I'm feeling pretty well at the moment, I know things could change at any time. And the idea of reducing my duties to admin only, and not doing any therapy - which for me is the most interesting and rewarding part of the role - was soul-destroying.
It was a tough decision not to go back, as I've been there for 7 years and at the beginning I absolutely loved it and really felt that I'd found my niche. However, there wasn't really any opportunity for promotion, which had been getting me down, and I think I'd probably got just about as much as I could from it. So although I'm sad to be no longer part of the clinic, and to say goodbye to colleagues who I've loved working with, it also feels good to recognise that things have changed and it's time to move on. At my leaving do I was very touched by the support and good wishes from my colleagues, many of whom have become good friends, and in spite of its poignancy it was a really nice way of marking the end of my time there.
Because of the uncertainty of my situation, it doesn't feel feasible to look for another job. I'm spending nearly 2 weeks out of every 5 in Germany at the moment, as well as needing to fit in my other alternative therapy appointments. In addition, I'm certain that one reason I'm doing well at the moment is because I've reduced the amount of stress in my life, and by not working I have the flexibility to rest and pace myself as I need to.
So I've decided to take medical retirement, which essentially means that I'm claiming my pension early. It doesn't rule out working in the future if I'm up to it, and if I find something which can fit around my treatments, but it means I'll have some income. In addition, with the help of an adviser at one of the cancer charities I've been granted some benefits - Disability Living Allowance (which isn't means-tested) and Employment and Support Allowance. I've found it extremely hard to come to terms with being entitled to them: partly because I feel fairly well and therefore guilty about claiming public money; partly because I'd never expected to need benefits and it's an enormous shift in how I see myself (especially as I've been used to being a professional helping others with claiming benefits, so it's very odd now being one of those people myself); and partly because qualifying for these benefits despite my current relatively good state of health is an unwelcome reality check on how the medical profession views my prognosis. So it's been a tricky process, to be pragmatic about accepting financial help with the costs involved in managing a serious health condition, while not writing myself off in my own mind. However, it gives me the flexibility to continue looking after my health as I've been doing throughout this last year, and now that I've got used to it to some extent I'm very grateful to have that stability.
