The Embassy refused to give me clearance to go back to India for five days - even though it is only ten days until my two month enforced gap between visa's is over.
The hospital called while I was on my way back from Dublin and asked that as I cannot go back, would I please come in for Mastectomy surgery on Wednesday.
I have today only, to call my son, on the blo*dy phone an tell him the truth...on the phone, whilst he is 'alone'. I have no idea now when I will see him again. On Friday he told me how many days/hours it was until my proper return on July 9th early morning, now he will also have no idea - no light at the end of his little (massive to him) tunnel and worrying about his 'mummy'
There's much more I could write about how I'm feeling - but cannot. I am in a very dark place and don't want to see or take calls from anyone, especially as I have to make this call today. I won't be able to answer his many questions or hold him and love him and cry together during the planned few days visit or give him courage and stength to go back to the children's home - Indians do not hug and hold, it is alien to them or that's the way they make one feel. I wont be able to sort out our house - and when the rent runs out, if no one has manages to visit and sort things out, our things will be rummaged through, people will take what they want and the rest will be dummped in the field next door. This is how it works in India, believe me - even for Indians. Our life is in that little house
I go into hospital tomorrow to have the offending breast off on Thursday morning and axilliary nodes removed completely. Right now I don't care a jot, I have no feelings about it, thats one way about how I feel, otherwise not one way or another except that if the entire breast + is cancerous, as they think, I would happily do the surgery myself this morning - perhaps then my feelings would have an outlet - in seeing the pain that my heart is going through. There'll be a PET scan too, so they can see where this invader has spread to. I have no idea when chemo will begin.
I had wanted my son to see me looking relatively well and still with hair before all this began. Not to be. To say I am angry, very upset and deeply depressed would be an understatement.
For ten years we have prayed, for ten years our world has fallen apart bit by bit, prayer is no longer for me and God, whoever he is, long ago abandoned us. I will do as many others in this world and go my own damn way, they have happy lives and I can't remember the last time we were happy for more than five minutes before someone or something put the kybosh on it, for many many years.
Again, yesterday, I had SO many people telling me what to do, even down to half making arrangements for MY son with no consultation from me whatsoever. The day, as you can guess, ended very badly, with me screaming at them to stop it stop it stop it.
I need much heart and positivity to make this call to my son today and not sure if I can pull it off.
