Knysna Elephant Park (2014)
By Heather Bonynge
I had a million questions to ask my doctor on December 19, 2008–the day I was diagnosed with cancer–but there was one in particular that was on my mind: Could I still go to South Africa to visit family in less than two weeks?
At that point, I had no idea what stage I was at, what my treatment options were, or what my percentage of survival was. They don’t tell you that, or what treatments you’re going to get on that first initial day, because they don’t know yet themselves. All she could tell me is there would be more tests that would have to be done to determine all of this, and I would be referred to an oncologist. So you’re just kind of left in limbo–a place I have learned–during and after diagnosis–is not my favourite!
Heather and her daughter on their way to South Africa just 12 days post diagnosis (2008)
I was prepared to cancel the whole thing, but my doctor reassured me that there would be no point as most doctors would be on holidays for the next few weeks; delaying my holiday would not get me in any faster. When you are diagnosed with cancer, you want it all dealt with yesterday, but we chose to stay the course. My own reason–which I did not share with anyone, as it was too dark to even 100 per cent admit to myself–was I didn’t know if I would ever get to go again. This could be my last holiday.
Looking back, I realize I was in a really dark place on this trip. I had this entirely new set of fears I had never dealt with before: I was a new mom, newly diagnosed with cancer, flying 30 hours to Africa, and realizing I am not invincible as I once thought I was.
Heather on the first trip to South Africa post-diagnosis (2009)
For the first time, I was afraid of flying. If I could be diagnosed with cancer, and possibly die from that, than certainly my chances of being killed in a plane crash are just as good, if not greater. When I would wake up to nurse my daughter in the middle of the night, I would sit in the dark room with nothing but the faint sounds my daughter was making, and have too much time to think about what my cancer diagnosis could mean. I did not know how much more time I would have with this wonderful person in my arms–or anyone, for that matter. We hadn’t yet told any of my husband’s family about my diagnosis, so I had to struggle with these thoughts alone. Even once I did tell people, these are thoughts I never shared with anyone until now.
Visiting the lion park (2014)
Five years have passed since then, and this past month I got to do exactly what I didn’t know I would be able to do–I went back to South Africa! It was an amazing trip, and even moreso this time as my daughter is now five-years old and I also got to experience through her eyes as well. There was something different about Africa this time, but it felt so familiar at the same time.
It didn’t take me long to realize what was different about this trip. Here I was in Africa for my fourth time, and I was being transported back in time to my life before cancer. That was the difference. That was the feeling I couldn’t shake. I had travelled back in time to when I lived in Africa in 2004. The smells, the heat, the people–I was experiencing it all the way I had 10 years before, five years before cancer, with life, enthusiasm, and love.
I realized that when I was there five years ago, I didn’t experience what I loved about Africa because I was completely absorbed by my fear. I could barely remember anything of that trip except those dark places. Now here I was, brought back to feel the same way I did as a 22-year-old, and it was amazing and confounding!
Heather in South Africa (2005)
Even though I will never complain about being a 22-year-old again, this trip brought something important to me back into perspective that made me quite happy to have my 32 years of wisdom. When I’m depressed, it usually means I am thinking about the past. When I’m anxious, I’m thinking about my future. But when I’m in the present, enjoying the moment, that is a good day–a great day!
I have tried very hard to live my life with this attitude since completing treatments in June 2009, but I will admit there have been many days I have lost sight of it. Luckily, I’ve learned that all it takes to regain that visual is a 30-hour flight and a trip to Africa!
Yoga would possibly be a less expensive route to travel, but I’m not going to complain one bit!
Heather at the rhino and lion park (2014)
