I am a little nervous about tomorrow. I have just shrugged it off to others telling them that being told the first diagnosis is the worst, or that they can't tell me anything I don't already know, but my mind is constantly churning. I don't know what they are going to say tomorrow. Will there be a limiter? A two year/one year/ six month sentence? Will it have spread conspiciously to an organ of mine?
And then, there's telling the kids. I mean, at the moment, there seems absolutely no point. I am well, I seem to be improving and there is no outward sign that I have this disease at all. My nose hasn't turned green, or my hair fallen out or anything of that ilk. And I really, really don't want to drop bad news on anyone at Christmas. Not because Christmas is not a time for bad news, but because if I do, it means that every Christmas future will be tainted by grief, when it is a time of joy and celebration.
Keeping it secret though, is hard, harder than I thought. A careless comment from the girls about how I 'shouldn't sleep in the afternoons', or why I'm tired when 'normal mothers' aren't really does touch a nerve. It does, however, normally mean that I am overtired and need a nap thus ensuring the vicious circle! It is lovely to have them here though.
An afternoon baking cookies, making cakes and a huge mess over the kitchen which I really should be tidying up..but then again, I am a little tired and my bed beckons.
Bring it on tomorrow...