So this evening I finally had a decent "it's not fair" flood of tears and despair moment...and it was only a little bit because I realised in all the tests and worry this week that I'd forgotten we were supposed to go see Derren Brown, thought it was tonight, got halfway out the door and realised it was actually on Monday. To be honest the devastated look on my lovely fiancés face was enough to make the toughest of female eye leaking dodgers start.
I know it's life. We haven't had the easiest of rides but we've made it through 5 years, several deaths, illnesses, redundancy and the odd psycho friend and we are still very happy so really we are rather lucky.
Today was also the first time I felt upset when telling someone else I'd been told I had cancer. I assume I'm slotting nicely into the stages of grief if we've covered denial already. I do like to achieve!
I have to say the waiting is the worst thing. Tell a person even the most horrendous news (you'll be forced to live with Miley Cyrus, they want you to wash the houses of parliament with just your knees, Darth Vader is indeed your father etc.) and in a reasonable, albeit miserable amount of time your clever human brain protects you from shutting down with sheer panic and you carry on. I am particularly unfond of the unknown so I have a feeling these next two weeks might well be harder than the knowing. Of course if the knowing is bad (like I really do have to live with Miley Cyrus) I have informed poor fiancé face I'll be marrying him asap rather than waiting for a classy do we can afford because he needs to inherit the house and I refuse to die with my surname! I'm not daft, a gravestone will last a hell of a lot longer than I will and I'm not giving the youth of tomorrow (or my dad) anymore reason to grafitti my grave than I have to.
Also for the record I'm pretty sure I want my gravestone to say something to the effect of:
Lottie
I was an awesome wife. Thanks for visiting. Please stop standing on my boobs!
Of course I figure this becomes less appropriate the longer I live what with the effects of gravity and all... I may have gone too far.
Anyway I think fear is probably healthy. At least this way I don't convince myself I've got other random disorders! I have an appointment with my GP tomorrow so I shall take my trusty cancer book with me so he finally has some idea of what the 'super interesting rare thing' I'm growing actually is. Also if I'm really nice to him he might give me some melatonin to help me sleep.
