Friday, August 11
a sense of relief
Yesterday at about 5pm we went to a beach bar on Fornillo beach. There was a DJ, playing feel-good music while the sky turned pink and the lights began to glimmer. There was a big punchbowl of Caphirina, children running around on the beach, impromtu dancing and a generally relaxed atmosphere. I sat by myself at a table, waiting anxiously for a phonecall. Skye shimmied past, dancing to the music, arms waving in the air. Champagne bottles were opened and poured into plastic cups, a birthday cake was brought out with a lit sparkler, crackling and fizzing on the top. A crowd gathered as birthday greetings were given to the owner of the bar.
I sat, distracted, waiting for my phone to spring to life. Carlo appeared, dripping water and shivering after his swim. “Anything?” he asked me. “Nothing yet” I replied. He dried himself roughly, with a sarong and helped himself to a couple of slices of cake. He passed one to me and I managed to take a bite before Skye appeared like magic and wolfed down the rest of my slice. Two Spanish women were dancing, their long skirts whirling and flapping. They called me over. I went to chat with them briefly, they smelt of limes. They had been crushing limes and ice all afternoon for the Caphirinas.
I walked back to my table and saw that a message had arrived on my phone. My stomach flipped. I felt a small jolt of fear and opened the message as quick as I could. After six months of fear, worry, tears and helplessness, it was over. The message, from my mum read:
No more chemo, ALL CLEAR! Fone later xxx.
My eyes filled with tears of relief. I ran to Carlo and threw myself at him, hugging him far too tightly. I told a friend who knew. She hugged me and thrust a cocktail into my hand. "Drink this for your mum and tell her that we're all celebrating for her!" she said, dancing away to the music...
at 12:25 PM