xxx

Me (on left) with Carla (on right), just before I went to Australia

I couldn’t help asking God why you got cancer. Why he let it all go on for so long. And you know what? I got my answers.

Because he wanted to give us time to say goodbye to you. He knew that just taking you away suddenly wouldn’t work for us at all. We wouldn’t have been able to handle that.

We needed time. We all needed… time. That was the bit of grace we got.

We never have a problem when God puts a new life here in the world, but we usually do have a problem with when He needs to take that life back again. When that person’s time is up. And Carla, he shared you with this world for 35 years.

But that’s not the only reason this happened. Your situation also gave everyone the chance to see your light. Those who’d never seen it before, or may have taken it for granted… now they could all finally see what a lucky few of us could witness when you made us such an intimate part of your life. The whole world could now see what a beautiful, bright light you’ve always been and experience how your courage and selflessness can humble even the toughest soul.

Finally, I believe there’s a third reason why you went through these last few months of your life. It was to restore your faith in the world, in humanity, in yourself. Many a times you’ve shared with me how you questioned whether people really accept you for who you are, and sometimes… if they really DO love you. And in darker times… if there’s any good in this world. And through this journey, you got to experience all the answers you’ve always been wishing and hoping for, but in ten-fold.

People who hardly knew you even started loving and admiring you when they read about your courage, about your thoughts and feelings as you battled through this sickness.  Your journey started a lot of little other journeys for countless of people you knew and didn’t know, and for that we are all grateful. Bonds were reunited, families forgave, friendships were strengthened and the world’s ugliness was but a far and distant memory. We all became a mob of love. Standing together in unity and truth. In the end, love IS all that matters. Thank you for reminding us of that.

By the time you left us, all you experienced from people were unconditional, endless love, the same you so selflessly always gave to us. You left this world, KNOWING that you had meant something to it, that you MATTERED, and most importantly, that you were loved.

Me (left) & Carla (right) just before I went to Australia

It’s the 1980’s. First week of high school. I’m a scared little mouse, entering one of the biggest schools in the country. And this time EVERYONE’s taller than me.

I sit in the queue, waiting for my turn to rehearse my Leon Schuster piece for the Empangeni High School Initiation Concert.

“I need some more neon plastic bangles for our act,” I hear her say next to me, “otherwise no one will believe I’m Kylie Minogue!”

I turn around: “I’ve got some!  I’ve got LOADS!”

She looks at me, a little stunned.

The scared little mouse reveals her Colgate smile: “They’re neon pink, green, orange, yellow… EVERYTHING! You can borrow them for your act!”

“Really?” And I get my first glimpse of the biggest Chestshire cat smile I’ve ever seen in my life. A smile as big as mine? This MUST be fate!

“Yeah, of course, I can bring them tomorrow!”

I get called up for my act.

Afterwards we get divided into our classes. Nervously I enter my new class. There she is, my smiling Kylie! So confident!

She comes up to me: “I’m Carla!”

The scared little mouse takes leave, and in its place a new tigress emerges: “I’m Rochelle”.

That night I wrote in my diary: “I should be so lucky.”

21 February 1989: (1 month after the concert)

She gives me a letter with “PRIVATE” written on the outside of it.

I open it.

“I think we should be best friends.”

It’s hard not to hoppity-skip back to her, as I try to contain my excitement within my cool, casual Saturday Night Live stroll.

“Thanks for your letter.”

She looks at me expectantly…

“You KNOW the answer! OF COURSE!!!”

She throws her arm around me and drags me to the tuck shop: “Come, we HAVE to go and get some chocolate to celebrate!”

“Great minds think alike,” I laughed.

Every year, on the 21^st of February, we each have a slab of chocolate – preferably Nestle’s Top Deck, as that was the original choice of that day (and, we couldn’t really make up our minds between brown or white, so we got something that had both!). No matter where we found ourselves in the world, when the 21^st of February came, it was chocolate time!

21 Years. Wow, our best-friendship had become an adult! But with that, she had to leave me.

So, what WAS it about this girl that had me and the rest of the world mesmerised, fascinated and captured within her colourful world of spontaneous laughter and never-ending enthusiasm?

Why, for 21 years, was SHE the one I’d think of EVERY single day?

To continue with the theme of 21, I give you 21 reasons of why she melted right into my heart – a little glimpse into her colourful past – and, hopefully, you’ll be able to recognise many of them as why you’ve also come to love her so much– to celebrate her Carla’ness.

Caissie, this is for you:

21 Reasons Why I Loved Carla So Much (read out numbers loud)

1. Because you thought only “husse met lang ore” lie on their backs with their legs up against the cupboard, while laughing out loud from their stomachs (I guess that made us expert “husse” then!)
2. Because you also thought we were going to be “discovered” every time we walked down Wildebeest Street and belted out all the songs we knew from the 80s.
3. Because you reinforced my love for classic Afrikaans songs, teaching me all the words to “Sprokies vir n Stadskind”, which you’d play on the guitar and sing with me in many concerts at school.
4. Because you thought learning “I just can’t get enough” from Depeche Mode on the piano was a classy thing to do, especially while wearing shocking-pink braces and wide, little denim mini skirts and performing it in front of the WHOLE school (WHILE SINGING ALONG…)
5. Because you thought I was the most hilarious person on Earth, in fact, SO hilarious, that we’ve managed to fix your jaw when, after careful smiling because of the pain of your post-wisdom-teeth operation, you BURST out laughing and so clicked your jaw into place!
6. Because you held my hand as I woke up after my wisdom teeth operation, and you didn’t let go when I squeezed it harder and cried like a baby. The cherry on the cake was when you had that can of Coke ready to wash down my blood and take away that post-wisdom-teeth-operation taste.
7. Because you made your sister also make me a matching paisley shirt for our school disco.
8. Because you gave me a haircut, and even though the bob was skew, said I looked totally kiff.
9. Because you’d go to the office with me and also get wacked with his cane when Mr Venter didn’t appreciate our obvious boredom in his history class.
10. Because you also had a soft spot for surfers and so helped me make up a little song about them, complete with dance moves, which we, of course, ended up performing in front of a lot of people…AGAIN! (This time at the Landsdiens camp).
11. Because whenever we got really worried about something, you’d always take my hands into yours and pray WITH me.
12. Because you’d jog past the Empangeni boys hostel with me just as they were always queuing outside for their dinner.
13. Because while we were in university, you’d be there at your hostel’s phone booth at 9pm every Sunday night for three years to either answer my calls or call me.
14. Because while we were still in university, you’d write me a 20+ -page letter almost every 3 weeks, answering ALL my questions from the 20+ -page letters I’ve written to you, AND with extra information and questions for me! It made me feel so incredibly interesting, like I really mattered, even during that dark time when I thought I didn’t matter at all.
15. Because you gave me my first cell phone (which was a bit broken because somehow you got melted chocolate inside of it) because you wanted me on standby every time we had something to share.
16. Because we called each other with not just good news, but with bad news also, regardless of what time it was.
17. Because when I had a fight with my boyfriend, you said I could come and stay with you and Robert AND bring my 2 cats along, even though you had new and fancy suede couches that they could scratch into pieces.
18. Because you jumped into a car with me to go and spend New Years Eve in Ballito, even though we had no idea where we were going to sleep or wash our high-maintenance blonde hair. We slept under the stars that night, and Robert was our bodyguard.
19. Because when we decided to get ourselves Doc Martens, you wisely advised me NOT to get them in black or oxblood, but rather in a unique colour. So in the end you got the green ones and I the cherry ones. And needless to say, you were right – they were a hit!
20. Because you were the first one to call me a writer when you spent R110 and bought me that brown leather-bound notebook, with me going: “But I’m not REALLY a writer.” With you replying: “Yes, you ARE, so here’s a start.”
21. Because you loved me so unconditionally and endlessly, more than I did myself. You taught me to believe in myself and celebrate my idiosyncracities. Because of you, I stayed real, and proudly established myself as who I am today, Rochelle.

I could give a 100, no, a 1000 more reasons why I cannot imagine a world without my dear Carla, because she was so much a part of it.

To end of, I’d like to dedicate this song to you by Julian Plenty. It’s called “Fly as you might.”

I am here but to give you my best

Stand by your side while you rest

‘Cause you’re my girl

‘Cause you’re my girl

I will provide for you best

I’ve always liked you the best

Fly as you might

Fly as you might

I will support you through this

I’ll hold your hand while you rest

‘Cause you’re my girl

‘Cause you’re my girl

I think my deeds will attest

I’ve always liked you the best

Fly as you might

Fly as you might

I’ll love and celebrate you forever, Caissie.

With “pampoenliefde”

Your Shellie,

forever.

2 Lucky girls (Carla on my right)

 So, if you like, check out what’s she’s written. It’s all here below.

 If you’d like to leave any message for her, you can send it to me, so I can put it on her special private web-page. She’s planning to print out ALL those messages sent to her and keep them forever, so your words will serve her well long into the future
 
Thanks for all the support, it really, seriously moved me in a positive, inspiring way. I think this is just one of those examples in life where we get to play with our inner sense of responsibility towards humanity – creating more good (a VERY necessary thing).
 
Thanks guys for all the inspiration, and if you have any more messages for Carla, just send them along! I’ll be waiting : )
 
xxxxx
Rochelle

WHAT CARLA WROTE:

I am the lucky one. 

Rewind back to Wednesday 30th September 2009. Rob and I were in Professor Jacobs rooms hoping to hear some good news as we knew the PNH was in remission. So why did he want to see me again? Surely it can’t be bad news again. 

With a very sad face Prof Jacobs told me I had leukaemia, actually to be more specific Acute Myeloid Leukaemia, AML. He told us I had 3 months to live if I don’t start with treatment immediately and have a 50% percent chance of making it through the treatment. With that news he told me to be back at hospital Friday morning to insert a j-line.  One and a half days to get everything in order before my journey started, phone the family to break the news, go tell my boss I wont be at work for 6 months, buy 5 pairs of tracksuits to wear in hospital (as I refused to wear pj’s during my stay in hospital, only sick people wear pj’s and gowns in hospital)…

On Friday morning we went to the hospital to have a j-line inserted.  A j-line is the line they insert in your boob and goes directly to your jugular vein, this j-line will be used to for all the intravenous chemo and antibiotics I will receive in the next 6 months. I was wheeled into the theatre room and 15 minutes later had a j-line.  By the time I woke up I was in my new room in the bone marrow transplant unit (isolation unit).  Your first chemo is given in isolation as they have no idea how one will react and therefore they play it safe by putting you in the isolation ward, under high care.

My sister and my mom packed up my belongings from the ward I was admitted from and unpacked everything in my new room.  That is how my whole journey have been, not once did I have to worry about anything like my stuff being left in my old room, because the whole 6 months I have had my family and husband to care for me like a toddler.  

Chemo 1: I think this was the worse chemo.  Physically I was fine, weak but fine.  However, on the mental side, another story! Thank goodness Prof Jacobs believed in a holistic approach so within a day a saw a psychologist and a psychiatrist.  I must be honest all I could think of during that week was death and questioned if I was gonna die at 34 years.  I planned my funeral a million times.  But then I was released after 9 day stay in hospital and I got a bit of hope. 

Infection 1: Six days after chemo 1 at 1 in the morning, I developed a fever.  The rules are simple: you get a temperature of over 38 you report to hospital immediately. Luckily my stay in hospital was only 6 days. I had a skin infection.  Now I looked like a teenager with no hair and acne. A million bags of antibiotics were given to me via the j-line.  At this stage I questioned death more but a side of me started believing I will make it through this. During my stay in hospital my running club organised a shave-athon and run for me, runners that I have not seen in years come to the run, the boys shaved their hair and girls sprayed their hair pink for me, a fund raising event was held as well for donation to the Sunflower Fund (SA’s only bone marrow registry fund). This event made me see how my sickness did not just affect me, but I was part of a bigger community and a community that cared about each other.  Slowly my psychic started to change. 

Chemo 2:  A week after I was released out of hospital, I was back to start round 2. Again I re-acted fine physical but mentally I started living again.  I noticed things I did not see the previous 3 weeks and realised that sulking was not the way to get through this.  I was dealt this hand and it was a crap hand but I still lived.  Lived with a j-line inserted into my boobs, but lived and I was going to enjoy this ride from now on.  During this time Prof Jacobs received the results from my lumber punch and bone marrow biopsy and confirmed that I was in remission! The cancer was gone! I still had to go ahead and do the whole treatment as planned as leukaemia is a disease that can come back very quickly if not treated until the end.  After 9 days I was released out of hospital. 

Infection 2: Again, at 1 in the morning, 6 days after chemo 2, my temperature spiked so off we go to the hospital again.  Another 9 days in hospital.  However this was a bad infection and Prof Jacobs was worried about me so transferred me to high care in the isolation ward.  I did not realised how sick I was, but have subsequently found out that I have no memory of about 2 days, I picked up 7kg in 4 days from the swelling that occurred in my stomach but something happened and I was cured again, above all odds.  It was a scary time for everyone but for me because I never believed I was very sick. 

Chemo 3: A smooth ride again. 8 Days in hospital. 

Infection 3: On Sunday morning a week after chemo 3, I told my mom I was not feeling well and wanted to go lie down again.  As I stumbled to my room, I passed out. My mom was right behind me and caught me just in time as I passed out in the passage.  We phoned the hospital and they said to come in.  As I arrived at the hospital my temperature started to spike again and I was put back on antibiotics. 

I felt very guilty for getting the infection now, as the whole family was starting to arrive for Christmas. We realised that I was not going to be home for Christmas but it did not bug my family, they all just came to visit me in hospital and brought all my presents to me in hospital.  It was not the way I wanted to spend my Christmas day but that day I realised how lucky I was to have the family I have and how they never once were cross with me for ruining Christmas! After 9 days I was sent home, just in time to spend New Year’s at home.

Two days before Christmas Prof Jacobs gave me the biggest Christmas present, he told me they have found a suitable donor! This was a huge relief.  From this moment onwards I never got negative again.  God created a random stranger in the middle of Europe as a perfect match for me, and they found him within 2 weeks of searching the international donor list.  I know of people who after a year are still waiting for a match.  I realised how blessed I am.  God had a plan with all of this and I was just an instrument.  

Pre-transplant Chemo & Bone Marrow Transplant:  While in hospital with infection 3, I met a lady who had a bone marrow transplant.  I asked her to tell me exactly what I am about the go through and she scared the living hell out of me.  She told me about her journey and how terrible it was, from inserting a tube into her as she could not eat, how she could not walk and was weak like a kitten even after the transplant.  I had an appointment with Prof Jacobs where he also prepared me for the worse. Armed with this knowledge my family and I prepared for the worse. Well, nothing happened.  I had the chemo, I puked twice that’s about how exciting it got.  The transplant was a very emotional day, but nothing happened.  I was suppose to be sleeping the whole day and get weak, but that never happened, I got up from my bed and did a 20 minute walk in the isolation ward.  The family was all here for the transplant, and it was an awesome emotional experience.  The hospital provides this huge candle for the transplant ceremony that burns the whole day, all the staff come to your room and pray with the family.  A strange thing happened- in hospital you have priests and “dominees” that come to visit patients, but a NG dominee came to the isolation ward about 5 minutes before my transplant was about the start and asked if anybody needed him.  The staff came to ask us if we would like him to do the prayer before the transplant and we accepted gladly.  It was a very emotional moment, we all (including Eugene!) were crying like little babies.  The bond I experienced at that moment with my family and Rob was just amazing. I can never explain in words how much that moment meant to me.  

On day 8 after the transplant the head nurse came to us and told us like it looks my cells are starting to graft but the next day after a series of blood test they confirmed that I was grafting in record time! It was fantastic news!  I was released after a total stay of 24 days in hospital, just in time for my 10th wedding anniversary! 

Lance Armstrong in his book “ it’s not about the bike” says that “we ( meaning the cancer patients) are the lucky ones.”  It is true, I have learnt so much from having cancer and it have done so many amazing things that I can’t help but think that I am truly lucky to have had cancer.  I learnt that people die and it hurts like hell, I lost a new friend to AML, but there are people that live through cancer.  A 13 year old girl taught me about bravery and fight even if the doctors told her she had a 0% chance of living (she is in remission now).  It taught me that you don’t ever need to speak a word to a fellow cancer patient and yet the bond between you is something amazing.  I learnt the true meaning of the word family.  The true meaning of the promise we make in front of God “in sickness and in health”.  I am the lucky one.  

A few hours ago I’ve just found out Frank McCourt had died yesterday. I remember hearing his name on the news last night, something about being ill, but I was in the shower and by the time I got out, the news had moved on to something else.

So, tonight I searched for news about him and when I read the first sentence that he had died, I just broke down and cried my little heart out.

He was the friend I never met. He was my inspiration, leading a humble life, and then when he was somewhere in his 60s, publishing his first book, which won him a Pulitzer Prize and also my love and respect.

I loved the way he wrote. I wanted to write like that. It felt like he was sitting in a bar next to me, chatting to me about his life, and I was too captivated to move – which made it hard to put his books down. It was like he was right here talking to me like I was his oldest friend, and by closing the book, it felt like I was rudely interrupting him while he was on a roll.

I liked the way how he kept it all real as he dealt with life’s tragedies with the armour of a wicked sense of humour and dry wit. He kept all the darkness so innocent by just telling it like it was – no frills, no fuss, just the blatant, downright truth. He’d hit the nail on the head so many times for me, that reading his books felt like an epiphany carnival had come my way and I could go on all the rides.

And how I rode, and swallowed his words like candy, letting them light up my literary world just like fairy lights would light up a window.

It was beautiful and magical, even though you know a lot of darkness was needed to make those lights glow so fantastically.

I’ll miss him, what he brought to this world and what I was hoping he’d still bring.

I can now only make sure that the inspiration he gave me would not go to waste. I’ll dive right back into my book and speak my own truth, hoping it’ll light up some individuals’ windows out there too.

My darkness can create a lot of light. I just need to keep on believing that.

Related site: http://blog.books4change.co.za/2009/08/goodbye-teacher-man.html

“This could be the start of something really… something, really,” she thinks (and realizes her thoughts, as they appear, pop up in this new, little world. Little too big world? Quite deceiving. It SEEMS little, yet, it’s the ENTIRE world. Mmm… “

Shit, she’s kinda tripped. This wasn’t as gracious as she thought she’d go about it. She might as well become I. This wasn’t as gracious as I’d go about it.

But someone had to do it. I look around myself and see a big, empty space that seems a little misleading, because it LOOKS innocent and welcoming and all mine, but we never know what can manifest there.

I only meant to write one sentence that was supposed to blow people away. My big, clever intro. I shrug. Oh well, I thought. At least it’ll be over soon. Like NOW.

Screw intros. This blog should’ve been started, like, YESTERDAY. I hate it when people say “like” in every second sentence, coz it’s li.. as if they don’t have a better way to say it.

I duck and hope no one saw this. I’ll just pretend with my next entry I’ve been doing this for years. Ah shit, all my thoughts appear as I.. shhh…

Watch this space…