Closing a Chapter

Today was not a very productive one for me.

There was much paperwork on my desk to do. There is always a report to write or 'clients' to meet for a variety of reasons. In fact, several had passed through my office since 08:00 hours but by lunchtime my spirit was sagging.

Whether it was the nagging pain caused by the fibroids that I still am refusing to have an hysterectomy to remove or the anxiety that always arises whenever there is a trip planned to Edmonton to conclude an unpleasant matter I was not sure.

It might have been one of those 'mind/body' situations whereby the increasingly uncomfortable pain in my uterus was brought on by my thoughts about this trip that was drawing neigh.

Edmonton was the second Canadian city that I visited by 2002. My first trip to Canada (in the late 1990's) had taken me to Ottawa, where I was impressed by the regal buildings, driving down the tree-lined streets in a diplomatic car with the flag of my former university-mate's country flying and visiting Parliament Hill.

Our arrival in the capital of Alberta was less impressive but awesome nonetheless as it was to be the beginning of a new life - one of freedom to be everything we were meant to be without fair or prejudice.

That it would be a hard and long road to full freedom was not entirely unexpected but still the reality was sometimes just too much to bear. Former assumptions about access to some of life's basics - such as respect, equality and a fair chance - soon went out the window. It would take many menial jobs, going into serious debt to re-tool professionally and a rapid slide down the socio-economic ladder before things began to even look as if it could get better.

The life of an immigrant of my race and gender can be extremely challenging. When other factors are added to that, such as sexual orientation, 'disability' of any kind and/or quickly diminishing financial resources, it can be really, truly hard to settle in Canada.

My situation was further compounded because the 'best ' was saved for last. A few years after arriving in Edmonton and as the ironies of life would have it, in the moment that things were just beginning to look as if we could pull this off, my world as I had dreamt it, was reassured it would be and fought to secure for many years was turned upside down.

"So much for that," I thought.

The road to full freedom had just gotten longer and took a major detour. As if that was not enough, a few months later this knife-crazy, short, male gynaecologist/surgeon was telling me he wanted to take out all of my womanhood. I supposedly had fibroids the combined size of a 5-6 month pregnancy and it needed immediate removal. He would try to save what he could but "no promises." I was not comforted in the least. The car was not even warm before his office was calling with a surgery date two weeks later (February 2007).

"For crying out loud! I have nothing left to be taken...leave me alone!"

On December 31, 2009 as I created my visioning board/collage for the year 2010 and declared that this was a decisive year on my journey to full freedom, I knew that there were still-opened chapters that had to be closed.

Now six days into this year my body was in agreement and although my new female doctor, 'black' South African to boot, had taken off the table the need for an "immediate" hysterectomy, my womb felt as if it was in the throes of labour. Several times today I had to excuse myself to go to the bathroom to check what was happening.

There is one school of thought that the development and growth of fibroids can be linked to mental and physical stress. When I first learnt this, I tried to retrace my menstrual cycle to see when abnormalities or major changes started to appear. It was not a very hard exercise. The clues were there for several years and most notable since migrating to Canada.

My most recent tests shows that the fibroids have shrunk - now the size of a 3-month pregnancy after two plus years of spiritual healing, self-care and nurturing, career growth, financial well being and a growing sense that I can trust those in my inner-most circle.

Another thing that I believe helped me is the realisation that there comes a point in life – or many points – when you take stock and accept that some dreams were really myths and must be released, burnt or killed. Whatever it takes to free the Spirit!

In a few days from today that last opened chapter - 'Travail and Drama in Canada' - will be closed in Edmonton. Maybe on that day whatever is struggling to finally exit my body will?

What is for sure, however, is that I will be one step closer to full freedom.

Blessings,

Claudette