Not Going to Die Today

On another floor of Sky City, fathers and mothers abandoned their children and gambled that they could make Christmas better this year. Only they would make it worse. My daughters had never walked through the casino floor before, but now they were both over 21, they flashed their ID’s and we took a stroll. It was only 2pm but the lighting was barely adequate. The sounds of slot machines and the slap of cards on poker tables mixed with the flushing sound of tap beer made me uneasy. In the scope of existence who were the more pathetic specimens? The gamblers who spent their days in the dark hoping they would be lucky? Or the cancer victim watching them, who could walk away from these tables but whose bad luck was part of her every breath? In Aotea Square in central Auckland we listened to Charlotte’s choir sing. Watching their youthful energy and listening to their sweet voices reach the high notes on Silent Night, made me feel luckier in that moment than the gamblers. At least I was living now. In the dark world of the gamblers, I wondered if they could say the same.

      To keep the Christmas theme going we went to Smales Farm in Takapuna which used to always have a laser light show and Christmas light display. We expected a crowd and were surprised when there were no cars parked nearby. Then we discovered why. This year there were just a few half-lit trees. It was disappointing. A lot of the trees weren’t lit at all because their power boxes needed re-setting after a rain storm tripped them. Alex went around and opened the boxes and reset the lights so the whole place came to life. It was our own little Christmas miracle. I’m sure whoever got the electricity bill would have wanted us to enjoy the moment.

      Then we drove to Northcross church and got in the line to go through the outdoor display. It was so lovely and heartwarming with the big “Welcome to Bethlehem” sign at the entrance. We tuned our radio to the station they advertised and Christmas songs filled the car. As we drove in, we were greeted by two guys dressed up as a donkey and a shepherd herding a real sheep. All the “characters” in the “village”, an innkeeper, a blacksmith, a baker, pretended to sell us their goods and wished us a Merry Christmas. At the end of the drive-through there was the holy family in the manger. I’m not a religious person but the whole display inexplicably warmed me like never before. I waved to Joseph and Mary and yelled “Merry Christmas” out of the open car window. I was almost moved to tears.

      My emotions were like a bag of mixed nuts in the days before Christmas. It was my favourite holiday and I wanted so much to be cheerful. As it got closer and I hadn’t drawn my last breath, I tried to be optimistic. My family helped a lot with hugs and laughter. I took encouragement wherever I could grab it. At the local blood lab the technician gave me a huge lift. She saw my lab slip which requested a weekly blood test. I figured it was optimistic.

      “I’ll be seeing you every week then,” she said as she handed the slip back to me.

She was expecting to see me again! Not only that, she expected to see me for weeks to come. Rationally I knew she was only making bloodsucker to patient idle conversation. She wasn’t a doctor so she wasn’t qualified to know if she would be seeing me for weeks to come. But I shut that out of my head. She said she “would be seeing me every week” and it sounded sincere. I felt like giving her a hug.

      On Saturday December 24^th Alex and I planned the cooking regime for dinner. We always did our traditional hot turkey dinner on Christmas Eve. It worked for us for a few reasons. Christmas day in New Zealand could be really hot and for us it spoiled the enjoyment of over- indulging in a hot turkey meal. Also, we had no relatives in New Zealand so no stray aunties or homeless cousins would be showing up at our door. Generally our Christmas Eve was free for cooking. Third, it meant all the cooking and washing up was finished with, so Christmas day we were free to play with our new presents and eat yummy leftovers. By 3pm I could start smelling the turkey roasting. It was wonderful. It was more than wonderful. I thought I would be six-feet under by now. At the very least I thought I would be chained to a bedpan while being violently ill from the chemo drugs. Instead I was wrapping presents, having a Christmas Eve glass of wine and looking forward to a beautiful turkey dinner.

      Christmas Day I awoke with the smile of someone who has just remembered they won a million dollar lotto prize the night before. I was alive. I took a deep breath and then another one. I lay in bed a little longer. I was not going to die today. My family would not have to weep every Christmas from now on. In fact I was better than alive. I was full of turkey, my whole family was together and we were about to open presents.