Enamus inimesi, kes ei ole raske haiguse või raskelt haigega lähemalt kokku puutunud, arvab ilmselt, et pärast seda, kui ravi saab läbi ja arst ütleb, et hurraa, me ei leidnud sinu kehast vähirakke, on kõik hästi. Sa oled raske ravi läbi teinud ja oled nüüd terve.

Tegelikkus on aga hoopis midagi muud. Paberite järgi ei ole praegu mu kehas leitavaid vähirakke, aga keha ise ei näita kuskilt otsast märke, et kõik oleks jälle hästi ja endine. Näiteks, kuna mul eemaldati lisaks paremale rinnale kaenla alt ja paremast käest kõik lümfid, väsib see käsi väga ruttu. Lisaks valutab parem käsi pidevalt, jõudu ei ole, mingid liigutused on randme piirkonnas meeletult valusad. Abiks pole ka fakt, et käsi on randmest ja selle lähiümbrusest pidevalt paistes.

Tekkinud on väga tugevalt ja pidevalt tuntav naha tundlikkus, kus isegi kõige õrnem puudutus teeb põrguvalu. Proovin neil hetkedel oma nahka hoida ja poputada, aga ainus asi, mis siin aitab on puhkamine ja valuvaigistid. Jah, pean tõdema, et uni on praegu pea kõige vastu parim ravim.

Magan ma muidugi unerohtude abiga, aga see uni on alati mõnusalt pikk ja tihti väga kummaline. Kaks ööd tagasi nägin enne hommikust ärkamist väga veidrat und mille üle mõtisklesin ärgates veel tunnikese voodis lebades. Meie paremad sõbrad ja tuttavad teavad, et pärast Venemaa täiemahulist sissetungi Ukrainasse võtsime enda koju kaks Ukraina pere. Nendest ühed — ema Sveta, tütar Lisa ja kass elasid meie pool mõned kuud, kuni läksid koju, Kiievisse tagasi. Põhjus oli selles, et Sveta tahtis olla oma sõtta läinud abikaasale lähemal.

Nüüd, mais tabas nende pere aga tragöödia, mille ulatust ma ei suuda isegi hoomata. Sveta abikaasa, Lisa isa sai sõjas surma. Tema põrm jõudis koju augusti algul ja siis peeti ka matused. Sveta, Lisa, minu sügav kaastunne teile abikaasa ja isa kaotuse puhul. Mul on nii kahju.

Aga läheme nüüd tagasi mu unenäo juurde. Nägin nimelt unes, et Sveta ja Lisa tulid taas meie juurde ja Sveta võttis oma kadunud mehe kaasa. Mehe surnukeha tuli temaga koos meie koju kaasa. Ma ei hakka kõiki detaile, mida unes nägin, lahti kirjutama, sest see on liiga jube. Aga tema põlenud jalg ja see põlemise lõhn söövitasid mu mällu pildi, mis tundus liiga reaalne.

Ühel hetkel seisime suurema seltskonnaga meie ülemise korruse rõdul ja vaatasime Sintra mägede poole, kus plahvatasid pommid ja lendasid vaenlase droonid. “Sõda on jõudnud meieni,” mõtlesin õudusega.

Tegelikult oli kogu eelmine nädal mu jaoks väga raske. Jah, ma käisin vahepeal korraks Eestis. Ei öelnud seda nimelt kellelegi, sest teadsin, et mul ei ole jaksu kokku saada. Mul lihtsalt puudub selleks energia. Andsin Eestis ühe inetrvjuu, sidusin end töiste kohustustega, käisin vanaema haual ja kõlgutasin jalga Peipsi ääres. Muud suurt ma ei teinud. Hea, et ei teinud, sest lõpuks olin ma nii väsinud, et jäin haigeks. Põdesin eelmise nädala lõpuni.

Alles täna, uue nädala esmaspäeval tunnen, et energia hakkab mingil määral taastuma. Ehk siis, vabandust kõigi nende ees, kellega ma ei kohtunud. See ei tähenda mitte midagi muud, kui et ma olen lihtsalt selleks kõigeks veel liiga taastumise faasis ja ei jaksa. Asi ei ole teis, asi on minus ja ma vabandan, kui kedagi solvasin.

ENG

Most people who have never personally experienced a serious illness, or been close to someone who has, probably assume that once treatment is over and the doctor says, “Hooray, we couldn’t find any cancer cells in your body,” everything is fine. You’ve made it through brutal treatment, and now you’re healthy again.

The reality, however, is something entirely different. According to my medical records, there are currently no detectable cancer cells in my body, but my body itself shows no sign whatsoever that everything is fine again or that it has returned to what it once was. For example, because in addition to my right breast, all the lymph nodes in my right armpit were removed, my right arm gets tired very quickly. It also hurts constantly, I have very little strength in it, and some movements cause excruciating pain around my wrist. It doesn’t help that my wrist and the surrounding area are constantly swollen.

I’ve also developed severe and persistent skin sensitivity, where even the gentlest touch can cause hellish pain. At times like these, I try to take extra care of my skin and be gentle with myself, but the only things that really help are rest and painkillers. Yes, I have to admit that right now, sleep seems to be the best medicine for almost everything.

Of course, I sleep with the help of sleeping pills, but the sleep I get is usually wonderfully long and often very strange. Two nights ago, just before waking up in the morning, I had a very peculiar dream. When I woke up, I lay in bed for another hour thinking about it.

Our closest friends and acquaintances know that after Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine, we took in two Ukrainian families. One of them — a mother, Sveta, her daughter Lisa, and their cat — lived with us for several months before returning home to Kyiv. The reason was that Sveta wanted to be closer to her husband, who had gone to war.

Then, in May, their family was struck by a tragedy whose magnitude I cannot even begin to comprehend. Sveta’s husband, Lisa’s father, was killed in the war. His remains were brought home at the beginning of August, and his funeral was held then as well. Sveta, Lisa — my deepest condolences to you both on the loss of your husband and father. I am so deeply sorry.

But back to my dream. I dreamed that Sveta and Lisa came to stay with us again, and this time Sveta brought her deceased husband with her. His body came with them into our home. I won’t describe every detail of what I saw in the dream because it was simply too horrifying. But the image of his burned leg and the smell of burning became seared into my memory in a way that felt far too real.

At one point, a larger group of us were standing on the balcony of the upper floor of our house, looking towards the Sintra Mountains, where bombs were exploding and enemy drones were flying overhead. “The war has reached us,” I thought in horror.

In fact, the whole of last week was very difficult for me. Yes, I briefly went to Estonia. I deliberately didn’t tell anyone because I knew I wouldn’t have the strength to meet up with people. I simply don’t have the energy for it.

While I was in Estonia, I gave one interview, took care of some work commitments, visited my grandmother’s grave, and sat by Lake Peipus with my feet dangling over the edge. I didn’t do much else. And it’s a good thing I didn’t, because by the end I was so exhausted that I got sick. I was ill until the end of last week.

Only today, Monday, at the beginning of a new week, do I feel as though some of my energy is finally beginning to return.

So, I’m sorry to everyone I didn’t meet while I was there. It doesn’t mean anything other than that I’m simply still too deep in the recovery process to manage all of this yet. I just don’t have the strength. It isn’t about you. It’s about where I am right now. And I’m sorry if I hurt anyone’s feelings.