Lindsay Ziehl (Guest) · 35:16
Well, the one was when my son died, I didn't know what to do and like most people, you don't know which way to turn, you know. And you really want to know why. Why did it happen to me? Why did it happen to him? He was so young and so healthy. And, you know, he had— he was good. He wasn't bad. He was a good boy. And so I went to the rabbi and I said to him, look, I said, this is what's happened, and I just want to know why it's happened. Why does God allow this to happen? And he looked at me and he said, don't say why. And I went, why? He said, what you need to, to say to yourself now is what? And I said, I don't understand. He said, would your son like to see you as you are now? And I said, no. He said, then you must say what? Now, not why. And that has stuck with me. And I often, I go, oh, why me? Through silly things. And then I go, now what? Now what am I going to do now? What can I do now? I love that, Lindsay. Yeah. Yeah. And that actually takes you immediately. It does. It takes you immediately out of kind of that victim, poor me, poor me, doesn't it? To He said, your son will be proud of you. Carry on. What now? Do more. And that was what pushed me to start the foundation really, was those, those few words as well. And then of course, my other thing that happened to me was when I was going through cancer, the second bout, the first wasn't breast cancer, but the second was breast cancer. And I used to have to catch a a bus. I was living right up on the border of Mozambique, and I had to get a bus to go to the hospital to have chemo. And that would take 4 hours or so. It's a long way, and it was a schlep, but it had to be done, and I had to do it. So I would go on this bus, a big bus, little bus, and they would drop me off at this, the bus station, and I'd walk and I'd get to the hospital, which wasn't very far away, go into the hospital, go to the cancer department, sit for a while just so they know you're there, because then they mix up all your chemo. They won't do it beforehand because it's so expensive, so they do it once you're there. You wait for an hour for that to be done, and then you sit for a couple of hours for it to go through. Once it's done, then you sit for a bit, you have a ginger biscuit or two or whatever you feel like at that stage, and then I used to walk back to the bus station. And I would sit and that would usually be about 2 or 3 o'clock in the afternoon. And the bus usually came at 5. So I would sit at the bus station. And there was this one day that I was sitting there feeling really sorry for myself. Another one of those why me things. And I'm sitting there and I go, I don't know why this is all happening to me. And I have to travel this far and I feel terrible. And now this is, and I didn't know whether I was gonna live because I'd had this cancer for a very long time. Nobody told me what it was, and I went to several doctors and they all said, no, don't worry about it. But you know in your gut, I think women have a very good intuition, and there was just something that kept saying to me, no, no, no, there's something not right. And I eventually went to another doctor and there was about the fourth doctor and I took off my shirt and he just said, I know what's wrong with you. You have Paget's disease. And I said, what? He said, you have to go to the hospital. You've got to go and have the tests, which I did do. So anyway, so I went to the hospital. They did all the tests. Yes, I had to have my breast removed. I had to have chemo first, then I had the breast removed. And no, I actually had the breast removed, then I had the chemo. I was sitting at the bus station and it was a lovely day, lovely sunny day, and it was very quiet. And this truck arrived.. And it was an open, we call them buckies here, but it was an open truck at the back and stuck on the back was all these frozen chickens. So I'm sitting there thinking, oh, frozen chickens and it's warm. You know, you hear about chicken and the gentleman who was driving the truck obviously needed to go to the gents, to the bathroom, and he got out of his truck, and I'm sitting there, and out of the corner of my eye, there was some bushes on the other side of the, the little road. This little cat, this little black and white cat, came running out, tiny little thing. And I watched this cat, and it jumped, and it jumped on the back of this truck, and it grabbed a frozen chicken in its mouth. And it jumped off and it was one hell of a thud. And it was— this chicken was nearly as big as the cat and it must have been heavy 'cause it was frozen. And it ran away and this thing was swinging and it ran back into the bushes and it was taking it to its kittens. And I sat there and I thought, if that little cat can carry something so heavy, well, those little kittens, Why am I sitting here feeling sorry for myself? Pull yourself up by your bootstraps. That's what my mother used to say. And just get on with it. Don't feel sorry for yourself. Just move on. Get on with it. You're alive. Get on with it. And that story of that cat has lived with me for years. And it was so powerful, that little thing running off with this huge chicken because it had to. Because it was feeding its kittens that it loved and it would go to any length to help those kittens. And I thought, well, if that cat can do it, I can do it too. I can be as strong as that cat. So that stays with me for years and years. So that was one of the things that I've actually got in my book. I'm writing my autobiography at the moment, and that's going to be the title of my book. The Cat That Got Sick. So, and it's all about What's the title going to be, Lindy? It's A Cat, a Frozen Chicken, and Chemo. And that's just, yeah, that, that's it. That'll, that's the title. Love it. Love it. Love it. A great story. That one will stay with me for a lifetime.