Here are some of the paradoxes that are haunting me at the moment.
Sleep is a blessed relief from the horror of our situation. So I want to stay asleep. But I want to spend every second with my family as time feels so limited. So I want to stay awake.
Anxiety and fear freezes me to the spot and I want to stay in bed because I feel safe there. But I want to spend my time creating fun filled memories with my family, getting out there and doing loads.
I want the kids to be in the other room so they can’t see the tears. But I want the kids to be next to me all the time so I can squeeze them tight.
I want to go to work and keep some normality in my life and use my brain. But I want to spend every moment at home with my family.
I want to rewind to 18 June, the day before I found the first lump. I want to relive the carefree existence I enjoyed for the last time that day. But I want to fast forward to see if and when the chemo works and for how long, so I can prepare myself.
I want to take some pills to take the edge off. But I want to stay alert and in the moment so I don’t miss a thing.
If I don’t make it I need to know that Elliot will move on, so that he isn’t on his own and so the kids have a mother figure in their lives. But the thought breaks my heart more than anything else and makes the tears flow.
I have always been traditionally Jewish rather than observant. I’ve never been sure what and how much I believe. Now, I find that my faith, spirituality and belief are all both ignited and doused at the same time. Part of me feels a strong connection and a certainty that all the prayers will work. Part of me feels that no G-d can exist given what we have gone through and what we are now facing.
I believe that science and medicine will save me. I don’t believe that science and medicine will save me.
I’m going to be ok. I’m not going to be ok. I’m going to be ok. I’m not going to be ok.