I Love You

I love the way my heart beats quickly and the butterflies flutter in my tummy.
I love the way you say "hey you" and the little sideways smile.
I love that you call me Pixie and tell me "geeks rule the world".
I love the way you show off and are proud of what you've done.
I love the geeky things you love and the way you just don't care.
I love how you make me feel I can take on anything.
I love that you can finish my sentences and don't always get them wrong.
I love the way you slide you hand under the pillow and cuddle into my neck.
I love the way you hold me so close it feels like we're joined.
I love the way you touch my hair and stroke my face when we're talking.
I love the way you run your fingers across my tummy, so gentle it feels like satin.
I love the way you stop me talking by kissing me really quickly.
I love that you call me on bad decisions and don't fall for my lies.
I love that I'm me and you don't change me and turn me into someone better.
I love that you like me and want me and know me.
I love because I love you!

What does 'coping' mean?

Over the last few weeks I’ve considered myself ok, not brilliant, but ok, to the 
question ‘are you coping?’ I would say yes!  To me, coping is when you just get on 
with it, it does not interfere with my day to day life, I’m not sitting in the corner 
rocking backwards and forwards and I don’t curl up in the foetal position half way 
through the day.  Yes, I am coping.  So why have I been told I’m cold hearted, 
emotionally detached and devoid of basic human feeling by close members of my 
family?  My sister cries.  All the time.  Any opportunity.  She’s very ‘open’ with her 
feelings and doesn’t appear to be able to stop herself.  In my opinion, she’s not 
coping particularly well (see the above checklist and she pretty much ticks all 
boxes).  

So this begs the question, what does ‘coping’ mean?  I don’t actually know 
anymore, I thought by putting a brave face on the situation and getting on with my 
job was coping, but now I know everyone has been looking at me from a distance 
and saying ‘she’s not coping’.  Granted, I’ve lived on a diet of multivitamins and an 
apple for the last two weeks, because it’s the only thing I can stomach (good news, 
I’m in my Karen Millan dress – new year’s resolution 1 – check), I have tablets to 
make me sleep, tablets to wake me up and tablets to counter the side effects (if I 
turn around quickly I rattle), I tried to do two things at once yesterday and realised I 
couldn’t remember my own name and trying to choreograph a routine for work was 
like trying to do 1967/9.8 without a calculator!  My brain and body appear to be 
giving up, that’s down to the lack of food and sleep, but emotionally and mentally I 
think I’m fairly sane.  Is it that my sister’s constant tears and ability to discuss her 
fears are a sign of her coping and not her breaking down, whereas my brave face is 
a clear sign that I’ve lost the plot?  Who knows?  Right now, I’m doing what I do to 
survive, I’m reassuring people that I’m fine and (against my better judgement and 
the many voices in my head) I’m talking about how rubbish this situation is.  It turns 
out I’ve caused more worry than anyone else, so now to the damage control…

In the days between writing this and uploading it, you’ll be pleased to know I did 
successful have a total meltdown!  After handing in the surgery paperwork to 
Mum’s doctor, I sat on the carpark pavement and sobbed; the kind of sobbing 
where you can’t breath!  It turns out everyone was right, I wasn’t coping at all, I was 
hiding everything behind my flawless brave face, which spectacularly cracked 
yesterday!  I phoned my sister (the normal one, not the emotional one) and poured 
out all my panic, she was relieved, I was relieved and so now when anyone asks if 
I’m coping, my genuine response is yes/no/not right now/almost/yes, but don’t 
hug me!!

Phew!

So What Happens Next?

Merry Christmas everyone and a Happy New Year is soon approaching. It's been a 
busy couple of years, with a few major events and a few minor events keeping me in 
order and that has made me think a lot about what the next year has in store.  I 
don't make new year resolutions, don't really see the point in setting myself targets, 
I get enough of that at work!  But this year I think I might decide a few things I want 
to do, if I don't do it, I'll do them next year instead; I'm definitely not going to call 
them resolutions...

I want to go and see my stunt driver friend and spend the day learning how to spin 
the car without flipping it and how to drive really fast backwards,
I want to sign up and do another Race for Life,
I want to be thin enough to fit into my gorgeous Karen Millen dress again (1/2st to 
go),
I want to go on holiday (after 4 years without one, I think it's about time!!)

So that's what happens next year, I imagine I'll get to this time next year and realise 
I've not done any of them, but I can try!

While trying to sort out the trivial things I want to accomplish next year is in hand, 
making sure I don't 'waste' the year - what is it with that? There's so much panic 
over time moving too quickly and not wasting a single second of it, that we actually 
waste the time panicking! Ironic!  Now for the more serious version of the 'what 
happens next?' thought process... Mum's just been diagnosed with cancer.  It's very 
treatable and she is really positive, but on a scale of one to awful news, this is 
pretty much the worst thing you could be told on Boxing Day!  Trying to focus on 
the fact that an NHS doctor has said 'treatable' with the threat of being sued if he's 
wrong, means that he must be very sure of the outcome.  On the cancer scale it's 
between 0-1, which again is really good, she's not in pain, she's being well looked 
after by me and my sisters (and my brilliant brother in law), and Dad has finally 
stopped being an arse to her, so there are lots and lots of positive things to think 
about.  We're all positive.  The doctor is positive.  The prognosis is positive.  We're 
saying very positive things.  And I swear if I hear the word positive again I'm going 
to scream!  Staying around my family really helps, because it takes my mind off it 
and being with my older sister keeps me busy; she's not dealing with it very well, I 
love her like she's a part of me, but she's very much the Princess of the family and 
needs protecting (we all have a sibling like that), also, my nephew is only 14weeks 
old so he's a gorgeous, full-time distraction, but I can't wait to get back to work.  I 
drove home from my sisters last night and finally being alone for the first time since 
finding out, I could no longer deaden the voices in my head that screamed 'your 
Mum has cancer, remember the big C word no one says without thinking death 
shortly follows?'  It appears that my coping mechanism fails when I'm alone and 
having nearly crashed the car into the M4 barrier, I think I need to release the 
unbelievable amount of fear and anger I suspect I'm storing up!  I don't do emotion 
overload and I certainly don't cry in public (more a complete inability that a choice), 
it turns out Mum worried the most about telling me because of my lack of 
openness; spending over an hour talking to her about it apparently helped, but now 
I have to figure out my own head, hmmm, harder than you think.  So how exactly do 
I feel and, of course, what the hell happens next?  While I have my rational head on I 
think it'll be fine and don't worry about something that hasn't happened yet.  I'm 
not alone, we're in this together and we have a lot of support around us.  It's been 
caught so early that the treatment will be quite light.  While I'm in panic-mode I 
think it may have spread, there may be other tumours, even if this works it might 
come back and if it does it'll be a hell of a lot worse.  While in meltdown I think I 
want my Mum there for my wedding day, I want her to see another whole load of 
mistakes I'm bound to make, I want her to see all her grandchildren and great 
grandchildren, I don't want her to be worried and crying on her own, I don't want her 
to think this is it.  Selfishly, this is really f***ing unfair, why her? why me? why us?  
Have we not been through enough as a family?  She lost both her parents in 2007, 
is this punishment for some hideous murder she secretly committed that we don't 
know about? Luckily meltdowns don't happen very often and I can usually control 
the panic, but when it does creep up on me it feels like being hit by a train.  

I really hope this is normal, I hope this is how you're supposed to feel; hiding the 
dark stuff and trying to put a brave face on for the rest of the world.  I know I have 
to tell my boss because of needing time off work after her operation, but I have no 
idea how to tell other people, so I've made the decision that I won't.  I told my 
flatmate when I got home, luckily she matched my calm monotone by simply saying 
ok and promising not to hug me!  She then offered me a cup of tea, the exact 
response my emotional state could cope with.  For this stage in my life, I have no 
idea what happens next, but whatever it is, we'll cope.