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For the avoidance of doubt... Yes... I definitely have an opinion... |
 Welcome to my Blog!! Having an opinion is better than not having a thought of your own. I have many of both.... Pull up a pew and grab a hot, steaming mug of your choice. |
| Prompt: What color do you feel like today and why? Write about this in your Blog entry today. *** I feel grey… I wasn’t sure whether I would write to the prompt today, I didn’t want to write about something mundane or analysis a quote, when I feel the way I do. I wasn’t sure whether I would even write a post. But it turns out that the prompt, surreptitiously, worked with how I feel and maybe it will be cathartic. Last night my husband sat me down and let me know that he’d spoken to my best friend’s husband and he’d let him know that his brain cancer had returned. My husband didn’t know how to tell me. He knew I’d be devastated for both my best friend and her husband. And I was. I am. When we lived in the UK we were all incredible close. Games night, random coffee trips. Clair visited me so many times while I was in hospital having my daughter (I was hospitalised at 30 weeks along and had to stay in hospital until a schedule c-section at 37 weeks). She brought me hot chocolate, and tea, and chocolate cake. She kept me sane. And Phil was a point of sanity for my husband while we were apart. My husband and I even spoke about who we would want our kids to go to if anything happened to us, and it was always Clair and Phil – even above our family. We love them like they are family - because they are, just not by blood. When we moved to Australia 5 years ago, we left them behind physically. But there are emails, and texts, and video calls, and random presents that arrive through the post to remind us that we may be on opposite sides of the world but never far from each other’s hearts and thoughts. We cheer the kids on when they pass another taekwondo belt or pass a driving test. So, to be on this side of the world when they are going through this is numbing. Except I'm not numb, I'm all over the place. Phil was diagnosed last year. He went through treatment; Clair took a year off work to support and care for him – I almost jumped on a plane at that point. The treatment worked, the cancer responded and we all blew a collective sigh of relief. But it’s come back. There is little treatment left that will work. They are starting to look at hospice visits. And my husband and I are stuck on the other side of the world unable to do anything useful. We can’t lighten the load. We can’t just drop by for moral support or a good cry. I wish I could be angry about the whole thing – and a part of me is – but there is nowhere to direct it. I feel the anger build up, and then it just sinks back down into the pit of my stomach to fester to the point I feel sick. And I can’t stop crying – but what I’m feeling is nothing in comparison to what I know Clair must be feeling, to what Phil and their girls must be feeling. It pales in comparison and that just makes it worse because we’re here and they are there. We are going to go back in a few weeks. We’re trying to sort out annual leave, passports, visas, and dog and lizard sitting etc… I honestly don’t know if it’s for us or them. I mean, we’re literally planning on jumping on a plane just to give them a hug… best $10k ever spent… I’ll have to get my act together by then, because what use will I be to her otherwise. So, yes… I feel grey. |
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