2003 | We Buy a New House, Cancer Strikes Again and Ghosts from the Past Reappear

We did not plan this life; it gathered itself around us. In our new house, somewhere beyond the city, beneath an old pepper tree, we start learning again how to be a family in a new way, but cancer strikes again, and old ghosts from the past reappear.

Karen had previously made elaborate plans for her own future. She wanted to travel abroad, attend university, and begin building her own career. Now, all these dreams seem to have evaporated overnight; she refused to leave my side. I arranged a temporary job for her at the bank in the same department where I worked. This would give her time to sort out her future while she earned a salary and enrolled part-time for a B.Com Law degree at Unisa.

After a few months, Corné also decided to return to Johannesburg and was offered a job at the same bank, though in a different department. Now, all three of us worked in the same building in Johannesburg's inner city and travelled to and from work together every day.

I decided it was time to fulfil another of my dreams. I wanted to buy a house. I found the tranquillity and relaxed atmosphere I was looking for in a small town about 50 km outside Johannesburg, easily accessible on one of the main routes into the city. I told the real estate agent what I was looking for and how much I could afford. When he pulled up in front of the house with the overgrown fence, my heart sank into my shoes; I couldn’t even see the house through all the vines.

“Look”, my mother said suddenly, “just look at that huge pepper tree”. I looked. I fell in love. A short while later, the purchase contract was signed. The pepper tree was mine. My family always joked that I had bought the tree before I had even seen the house, which was true to a degree.

The house was sturdy and built to last, but it has been neglected over the years. The house was repainted, inside and out, and we employed Samuel, an elderly gentleman and keen gardener, to help us tame the overgrown garden. The first thing we did was to kill the vines and replace the old fences with palisades.

As soon as the new fences were up, Karen started looking around for a dog. She had her eye on a Boerboel Mastiff crossbreed. I wasn’t too sure how welcoming Ollie would be to a big dog, since she was our only pet and had ruled the household for many years, as cats tend to do. But to my surprise, Bazil turned out to be a gentle giant, and he won Ollie over in no time.

He was not as friendly towards Corné, for no specific reason that I could fathom. Maybe he did not like having another young male in the house. Too much testosterone going around. He showed his disapproval of Corné by chewing on his car tyres, license plates and decals, ripping his laundry from the clothesline (he never touched Karen’s or mine), ruining his shoes and depositing his calling cards on Corné’s bedroom carpet.

My mom helped us put up the window drapes and start a vegetable garden, with Corné’s less-than-willing help. My son was more interested in playing online games on his personal computer and watching television, but saying "no" to my mom is like waving a red flag in front of a bull.

We were having fun again, and we loved the new life we were building.

July 2003 | Cancer Strikes Again

The oncologist had earlier explained that Tamoxifen, like most cancer drugs, can have serious side effects. He also cautioned against using any medication or cream containing hormones. In my case, I experienced hot flushes and significant weight gain since I started on the treatment a little more than a year earlier. Tamoxifen is known to increase the risk of endometrial cancer, which starts in the uterus's lining. Thus, when I felt a sharp stab of pain in my lower abdomen when Karen and I were trying to tear down a prefab garden wall in the garden, and I noticed spotting on my underwear later that night in the shower, I immediately suspected I was in trouble again.

One week after confirmation of the diagnosis of endometrial cancer, I was admitted to the clinic for an open abdominal hysterectomy, which would include the removal of the fallopian tubes and ovaries. This was not in fact a 'new' cancer, but a more advanced consequence of the hormonal cancer, which earlier led to the mastectomy.

This time, the news of the diagnosis hit Karen harder than the first time. I remember she didn't even want to visit me in the hospital with Corné and my mother. Ollie was back on duty and slept in my bed until I felt better. The good news was that this time the cancer was diagnosed early enough for the gynaecologist and oncologist to decide against treatment other than the Tamoxifen, which I had to keep taking. I returned to work after three weeks, although I was still feeling weak and sore. I had to keep busy and pretend everything was fine for my little family's sake. My mom returned to Durban, and we resumed our normal family routines.

Facing a second cancer diagnosis so soon after the first robbed me of much more than my previous good health. I now felt unsure about my future and afraid of every pain or change in my body. I attended my follow-up checkups with a heavy heart. I remember how I used to throw up the moment I arrived at the oncologist’s office for my regular checkups.

December 2003 / Ghosts from the past

This was when my ex-husband re-entered my life in person. My younger son wanted to visit us shortly after the hysterectomy, but this time he would be driving up from Cape Town in his small car. Daniel (not his real name, but one I’ve chosen for this story) asked if he could drive up with my son that week. He said he wanted to spend time with the children, especially Karen, whom he hadn’t seen in several years.

I knew that the instability that arose from an unhealthy atmosphere in the parental home during their growing years, followed by the divorce and a subsequent lengthy split in the family, had caused significant emotional distress for all three children. Lately, my ill health and the added adult responsibilities Corné and Karen have been taking on have likely added to the stress and anxiety. I wasn’t sure how a visit by their father, in person, would affect the family dynamics ten years after the divorce.

However, I did not want to deprive the children of an opportunity to have contact with their father if that is what they wanted. Daniel would not hesitate to use my refusal to permit him to see the children as ammunition to prove to the rest of the world just how malicious my intentions towards him were. In all the years we had been divorced, we had never been able to maintain a civil relationship.

Also, I was still feeling sick and very tired after my recent hospitalisation, and I just hoped that, in the safe environment of my home, we would be able to avert uncomfortable situations or temper flare-ups.

The short holiday went by agreeably enough, although I noticed that Karen employed avoidance tactics and made no effort to build a relationship with her father. Daniel did not even notice. As usual, his attention was centred on me, and I fully expected him to tell the now grown-up children to “go play so I can talk to your mother”, like he used to do in the old days when I returned home from work in the evenings.

I should have known there would be adverse consequences.

Featured image: Stylised photo of the huge peppercorn tree in our backyard. We had it topped after two or three years, and then it grew back in a majestic umbrella shape. We loved sitting in its shade in the Highveld summers.

Photo in body: Stylised photo of Bazil, our beloved Boerboel x Bull Mastiff, maybe crossed with something else as well.