When the night comes..

When the night comes and I am alone I think far. Too. Much. I am sure I am not alone here. We all do, don't we?
I had my yearly scan last week and I was scared. Again. Is that a good thing? Maybe yes for many reasons: I want to live, I want to know what's going on in my body, I want to be prepared for good or bad news.
Then there is the other side of me that doesn't want to know, that couldn't give a flying flute, that wants to turn a blind eye and yell out "mines a large one please!" And dance and get several sheets to the wind...sell everything I have and bugger off around the world with nothing but a handbag and a good book. Yet I lean to the former and I get scared. In the end I guess we all want to know. Deep down inside of us we all want to know in the end what is going on and ultimately what is going to happen. It isn't the best feeling in the world but it's a weird human necessity. Needing to know. Going on holiday? We check the weather. Going out? We look up the place on trip advisor. And many, many more..too many to add here. I am sure I didn't used to be like this...before cancer I am sure I used to be so carefree and worry free and everything free. But I can't remember feeling like that. Almost like I can't remember not being able to understand Italian before living in Italy or remembering how life was like before having a child. Ah! Yes..that's why I worry so much. That may be the reason why I think too much. I worry about myself because ultimately I worry about my family. I worry about how they would be without me. I worry about my husband and my child. Would they be Ok?
During my chemotherapy I used to say to my husband "we need to talk about what happens if I don't get better". And he never wanted to. He didn't want to know, he refused to know. Unlike myself..who wants to know too much. And who thinks too much. But only when the night comes..

sometimes we cry

sometimes we cry…

during my time in hospital and at home many, many of you sent me messages. short notes, messages on Facebook or whatsapp…and cards. Almost everyone said “I am so sorry, I don’t know how you do it.”

so how do you do it? And I am not just talking about me here. How do we all “do it”. The Life thing. One of the hardest lessons I have had to learn is that we all die. we do. And I am not cool with it. But at the same time I am not scared of death. It would just piss me off if I have to die now at 33 when, quite frankly, I am not done. One of the most stupid things we can say is “There is time”. No there isn’t. We have a very short moment, a flash, a blink of time to live.

Oh what a cliché I hear you cry! We have heard this all before! And dare I doubt you? You all have. So I will try and put it in a small perspective..

from my point of view.

I gave up. (WTF?) Yup..I gave up. I gave up caring about so many things that I used to care about and I started doing more things that I wanted to do. Small things like walking when I should be working or sending emails..Gardening and getting filthy..calling people..sending cards or flowers..sitting with my dog..talking to homeless people (really TALKING) reading to m son and showing him old photos..cooking..learning how to knit ( I am crap) and general stuff. Stuff that I like.

Most of all I want to care about this “life” that I have, however long or short it may be. I don’t want to waste a day. Oh the violins! 

It has been a year since my last full body scan. Two months since my last check-up and two days since I peed blood and nearly fainted. Another scare..another worry..another sleepless night..another hospital visit. A reality check. And however strong I may seem, I cried. I cried and cried and cried. And don’t we all? But we never say it. Thanks to all the Facebook, whatsapp, cards and letters..we are all seemingly jolly fine. But are we? 

maybe. Maybe not..

So sometimes we cry. And that is not a bad thing. And if you do, and if you want to, and if you feel that sometimes you really need to…call me. message me. text me.. whatsapp me. And I will be ok with your tears, if you are ok with mine.