The juggler has posted a fascinating catNmouse this week and I just couldn’t resist joining in:

9 lives: this c a t & m o u s e entry is all about near death experiences

1. I once attempted suicide when I was in my late twenties. My first husband, the father of my children, had left me for another woman and the pain and rejection I felt was overwhelming. I was immensely insecure in myself at this time and lacked the confidence to think I could ever survive in the world on my own. I never consciously decided I no longer wanted to live - I just wanted the pain and heartache to stop. I thought the children’s father would be better able to look after the children than me since he had a well paid job – and without them I had nothing. I took an overdose of sleeping pills and woke 2 days later in hospital. When I realised just how close I had come to death I ensured that the boys and I made a wonderful life for ourselves on our own – it made us stronger and closer. We still have that wonderful bond today – even though they are now young men.
2. I was diagnosed with Chondrosarcoma (a rare primary bone cancer) in 1995 and survived it. I am still a NERD (no evidence of recurring disease). As UK co-moderator of the Chondrosarcoma Support GroupI am only too aware that not everyone is so lucky. In the past few weeks we have lost three very special and valiant Chondrosarcoma warriors – who lost their brave battles against this terrible disease and yesterday would have been the birthday of Alex Perkic , a remarkable friend who lost his life to this rare primary bone cancer. (Ten years previously a fortune teller (of some renown) told me I wouldn’t live much beyond 40 years old – which interestingly was the age when I was actually diagnosed with cancer.  I was very shocked at the time – I was only in my thirties. Like most people I don’t  believe everything I’m told – but I do think some fortune tellers, or tarot readers and the like are gifted. I often wonder if my fortune teller “saw” my cancer and didn’t think I could survive it.)
3. My heart was once broken so badly by someone I loved that I thought I would truly die. It took several years and much counselling to come to terms with this failed relationship. Now, with the wisdom of hindsight I see it for what it was – and have moved on. I have since written a novel about that destructive relationship – it’s not published yet – but perhaps I will have the last laugh!
4. The first time I ever did a parachute jump (in my thirties) I thought I was using up one of my 9 lives! I can recall sitting  at the open door of the aeroplane with my legs dangling into the sky below, frozen with fear, wondering what madness had brought me to this moment in time – and then being pushed reluctantly out by the instructor. Then as I floated free as a bird until the parachute jerked open – gazing in wonderment at the patchwork quilt landscape below me, I realised what a wonderful and addictive experience it was.
5. I once bought my lovely husband a voucher for a hot air balloon trip for his birthday – I’d ballooned myself many times before and he’d expressed a fascination to try it. Unfortunately his inaugural trip turned into a complete nightmare despite mild weather conditions. The first part of the flight was fantastic – just four of us in a large balloon basket – gliding silently across the sky and hearing the exclamations of surprise from the tiny dots that were people, over a thousand feet below. The only other sound was the burner (to heat the air) every few minutes. The flight lasted over an hour  and a half and any of you that know about ballooning will know you drift where the wind takes you. Well, when it came to the time to look for a landing space – the wind blew us over some electric pylons and by this time we were short of fuel. The experienced  pilot was doing his best to steer us through the dangerous obstacles – and we could see sweat breaking on his brow – that was very scary. We eventually came to a clearing and he started descent. We hit the ground and bounced the length of a field – quite literally jumping over hay stacks. The equipment in the balloon basket came loose from its strapping and a fire extinguisher nearly knocked me out. We were thrown from the balloon and my husbands knees were both badly grazed, the other passenger was injured by equipment, my head was hurting from the extinguisher and I had grit in one eye – and the pilot was in shock. We stumbled to the local pub to recover! try as I might I couldn’t persuade my husband that the near accident was rare – and that usually you have a soft touch down and step out of the basket with ease. From that day to this he has never ballooned again. He reckons we both used one of our 9 lives up!
6. I guess I have 4 lives left! I’ve just remembered using another of my 9 lives up! My husband is a lifelong biker. He had his first motorbike at the age of 16 (a Panther 600cc single cylinder to use off road) and has never been without a motor bike since. His pride and joy in recent years was his Honda Goldwing – a big beast with a powerful 6 cylinder 1598cc engine. One day we were enjoying a cruise on it (I was riding pillion) down a small country lane when an idiot in a car, coming from the opposite direction overtook the car in front of him. He either didn’t see us on the other side of the road, or maybe didn’t even look. Suddenly we were looking down the barrell at a head on collision – the car was heading straight for us, on our side of the road. There was no where for us to pull out of the way (the road was only wide enough for two cars, one each side of the road) – suddenly everything went into slow motion. I can actually remember thinking that we were going to die or at the very least be seriously injured. I don’t remember fear – just watching as if it was a film being played out in front of me. My husband said later that he experienced the same slow motion effect (adrenalin) – and it was the slowing down of time that enabled him to think about the best action to take. Only an experienced biker could have the nerve to do what he did next. He waited until the last moment in case the car managed to overtake and pull back in, or ducked back in behind – then at the final second, when a decision had to be made, he accelerated and aimed the bike between the two oncoming vehicles. I swear to God the two cars shaved the hairs off my legs (one each side of the bike) but didn’t break the skin. My husband then pulled the bike over and only then did the pair of us start uncontrollably shaking. What was shocking was that neither car stopped to see if we were OK. Below: Our Honda Goldwing parked outside the home we lived in then.

I think I’d better save the remaining three lives - just in case!

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