I realised today that it's only eleven days since C was diagnosed. It feels like so much longer; we've lived a lifetime of emotions in these eleven days.
Today I went back to work after three weeks off. It's never an easy thing to do, and was so much harder this time round. I didn't really know how I would feel - maybe being back would be a good distraction for a while? Maybe I'd be grateful to be around people, doing something purposeful? As it turned out I felt like a fish out of water and just wanted to get home - as it's so quiet at work at the moment with the schools being closed for the summer there isn't a lot happening; we used to use this time to catch up on jobs we've been putting off all year. But at least at home I have things to do, and it's reassurance for C, although today having Romilly at home was nice for him anyway and they did lovely dad-and-daughter things. Their relationship is lovely to watch - she's very like him, but very like me, and she's always been very close to her pa, even more so now that her security has been threatened. Same with the boys - ironic really that something which could potentially (but hopefully won't) tear us apart is bringing us closer together.
That said, my line manager at work was very supportive and understanding, as were the lovely girlies in my office. They did manage to reduce me to tears though! I guess I'm just not as tough as I'd hoped. I've got to just go day by day and decide what I can cope with - leaving C this morning was very hard; he was trying to hold it together, knowing that I had to at least go in, but he was clearly upset and looked very vulnerable as I looked back to see him waving me off from the window. Heartbreaking.
For the first time today I let myself, just momentarily, contemplate the worst outcome - kind of 'feel the fear' moment. It scared me into almost having a panic attack. I CANNOT contemplate that we are going to lose this fight - the mere micro thought that we will lose is so wrong, unfair, unmentionable, unbelievable; took me to the lowest place I've been for a long time. I'm not going there again. Sod feel the fear and do it anyway - I realise the fear's there and it can damn well bugger off.
C had a chat with his Macmillan nurse today - Sonya. She is lovely - very switched on empathetic and eminently sane at the same time. She gave him some straight answers to his questions and he said he felt very reassured having spoken to her. One thing I'm struggling to understand though is that she says she is worried about me; why? Surely I'm the backup here, to support C and the kids through this process. I can't afford to cave in and certainly have no intention of doing so. C said he's worried about me and the kids too - if there's a lesson to be learned here it's that he REALLY needs to start thinking about him and stop putting everyone else first; but I guess after this long it's a hard habit to break.
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