Fifth Position

Playing “The Waiting Game” happens to us all.  It seems like we are always waiting for something really important to happen. A graduation, a wedding, a baby, a new job, a biopsy or your waiting to find out what next adventure is in store for you with the oncologist. Will you have to continue chemotherapy for an unknown amount of time or will a new series of scans reveal what you have been waiting for or dreading. We are always playing a waiting game regardless of our current situation. I wonder if its possible to actually live without waiting for anything to happen? Is that what is referred to as “living in the moment”?  (sorry my yoganista sisters, and you know who you are). Can we breath ourselves into a state of not waiting for a damn thing to happen?  If so, sign me up!!!  I promise to breathe mindfully every moment I have on the planet.

I have one more excursion to The Chemo Cafe next week. One more time to experience first hand how others are coping tethered to their personalized assassins . The multiple wreckers of cell walls. It seems young men are more stoic at The Cafe. They constantly look at their watch and then look at at how much is left to infuse. They have jobs and families depending on them to get that paycheck cancer be damned!! Older men are more leisurely, reading Car and Driver or Vogue. They don’t cover a bald head and don’t bring blankets or snacks, usually come alone and have fun with the very pretty nurses. Young women look shell shocked and angry. They are trying to keep it together with a stylish chemo supply bag consisting of infused fruit water, seaweed crackers, small containers of avocado slices, a very soft and pretty anthropologie blanket and a great Lululemon hat with a scarf. The phone is forever buzzing with texts, snapchats, phone calls and selfies of friends having fun without them but sending heart emojis. The older woman (me) have a certain look that’s hard to describe. Our jobs as moms, wives, caretakers , working woman has come to a screeching halt.     Years spent doing doing doing for others stops. We are the walking wounded in mind and body. We bring lukewarm tea, broken crackers, sticky candies we found in the car, the throw off our beds to keep us warm. We don’t ask for help because it’s not our nature to need help. WE were the helpers. The more “mature” women at The Cafe have the look of a Queen in the throes of abdicating her thrown.  “I was awesome once”.  We were all awesome once yet here we are, grenades coursing through our veins hoping to be victorious.


Fifth Position in ballet is a position of the legs and feet where one foot is placed in front of the other, with the toes of the front foot aligned with the heel of the back foot.  Fifth position is one of the more important positions as it is often a preparation and “in-between” position for many jumps, turns, adagio work and more.  The position is with either the right or left foot in front, but it is technically the same position, just the difference of which foot is in front.   “Preparation” is the key word here..


10 Replies to “Fifth Position”

  1. You have Always been My Go To friend that knows much much more than I ever knew.. From rearranging my house,deck, garden, family situations all kinds of advice. So Yes you are a Very Unique woman who is an incredible Mom who gives so much to your kids , husband and your whole family icaring,smart and your Humor no matter what has always made me smile. So We are All cheering, praying and if anyone can put up a good fight it is You Carla. And your next chapter of your life is becoming a Author as your writing is ever so witty. I L U💞


Leave a Reply to Marsha Galespie Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s