Nurse and woman, beyond illness ...


"The treatments flatten me like steamrollers. The body, intoxicated, struggles for several days in a row to get up. Each time, it is reborn. This body only performs the minimum vital: washing it to avoid stinking of it. illness, forcing yourself to go to the toilet, drink 2L a day so as not to shoot your kidneys, avoid vomiting everything right behind, eat at a minimum, do not vomit again, and avoid breaking your face on a vertigo manifesting itself in the worst time In the middle of a staircase or with a cup in hand.

I wonder what is left in these moments. Maybe a little music in my head, or a pleasant thought that suddenly crosses my foggy mind. The sound of the rain. The words of my parents palaver for long minutes on everything and nothing, downstairs, in the living room ...

The care of this body does not end: the mouth, the ears, the nose, the eyes, the skin… Care of the wounds which open, the skin can no longer resume the healing process from zero by continued.

The intoxicated body is added to the usual body, which continues to have its rules, its desires, its needs. My mind doesn't know where to turn.

There are times when I can't take it anymore, but I've never regretted those choices. I know why I'm doing all this: I want to be able to live a life where I can choose to have children, change jobs, or start a new dish or craft. I want a life where I can spend time with my friends and family without always feeling sore or tired. A life where absurdity will certainly have its place; I will never be able to forget the nonsense of the disease nor the deep reality that we have little control over how our world works. Yet we also have an impact, a possible choice, in this nonsense. We have the choice of color. I don't paint the canvas of my life alone, some brushstrokes will be done by others, but I have the choice of color. I have the choice to do with or to cover.

Through his work as an Artist, Stéph will use my skin as a support, a support covered with scars, which covers a body that has escaped me for too long, and that cancer has revived. Her brushstrokes will be like so many choices that I made to direct my life towards beauty, optimism and gratitude. ”Stéphanie Vachoux.