Leaving on a Jet Plane, part...

Guess where I am?  Well, the last time I wrote in my journal was the last time I was headed to my friends down South, and that was fifteen months ago.

Right this second, I'm in Costa, with a glass of holiday Chardonnay and a tiny packet of contraband cashews which I purchased at the supermarket this morning, (didn't fancy crisps.)   A lot has happened to us all in fifteen months.  My 'a lot' has happened most recently, the past month especially has been fraught with tears, exhaustion, worry and sleeplessness.  I almost reached my limit, my limit being, I wasn't sure I could continue to function normally, get up at 4.30am, go to work, do a decent job, get home fifteen hours later to grab a bite to eat then try to get some sleep.

With a recent and frightening reminder that life should not be taken for granted, that those we love should not be taken for granted, I am once again, looking at my life from above, and reviewing.

A couple of nights ago, the ridiculousness of my relationship finally dawned on me, I finally got it.  I am totally done with analysing and trying to fathom out, what it is.  I actually felt strong, independent and content with my lot.  It's not that I'm saying goodbye to all that, I just feel like my grip is a little looser on the situation.  Just as I was getting to feel comfortable with the new perspective, he sent me a gorgeous, black and white head shot.  Damn, he's handsome.

Given that nothing lasts forever, although I do believe in life after death and in reincarnation... what if I'm wrong?  What if this is it?  What if he is the funny, flawed, gentle, handsome, love of my life?

Then, there is my childhood friend, who I see maybe twice a year, who I don't think of in 'that way', but he makes my sides split with laughter, I can say anything to him, he thinks I'm weird/funny, I am totally comfortable with him.  I wish that I saw more of him, he brightens my day.

You forget that you need to be pretty fit to travel.  The time at the airport speeds along.  Not sure how far I've walked, carpet or no carpet, seems like quite a way.  My flight is called and we process through the gate and down a gangway, down a staircase and onto tarmac, where we board a bus.  I step up and shuffle to a pole, grab hold of pole, instantly regretting not re-applying the hand sanitiser right before.  I wedge my case, firmly between my legs, assume second position and clench my buttocks to act as shock absorbers.

Ten minutes later and after a slight delay waiting to see if two stragglers are in fact joining the flight, we take off into the hazy sunshine.  I can't wait to see everyone.

Seriously?

It's another School reunion, and a bomb is dropped in my ear...  'Have you really never been in a significant relationship?'  For a start, I'm amazed she can string this sentence together and it catches me off guard.  My drunken, friend between the ages of four and probably twelve, has an arm draped tightly around my neck, hanging on like her life depends on it and the stench of cigarette breath almost renders me unconscious.  What do I say?  'Define; significant?'  Breathe in the other direction to avoid the acrid fumes while I think?

The relationship I've been in for the past few years is pretty significant to me, but it's un-definable.  No, I don't have a ring on my finger but nor do I have an unattractive man shackled to me or smell like an ash tray.

I know that it's the alcohol asking the question but I'm peeved to say the least, that this train wreck is basically pointing out that there must be something flawed within me.

I don't know if she has children or not but given the opportunity to change places with her, would I?

No thank you, I'd back me any day of the week.

100%

The determined shadow and subsequent biopsy eventually told us that it is in fact, lung cancer, operable non the less. My main worry is the diagnosis of the kidney and the surrounding area, this is still inconclusive, plus there is the chance that the lung cancer has already spread.

These days are a blur.  Been impossible to concentrate in work.  Waiting for the diagnosis, waiting for the surgery date, helping to organise, helping to pack.  Day of lobectomy, biopsy executed on remaining lobe to check that it hasn't spread.  Kidney diagnosis outstanding, hopefully unrelated to lung.  Made it through op despite the heart murmur and the sticky blood.

I'm holding it together, work is all but tipping me over the edge, doesn't that say something?  Cancer, I can just about deal with, work, not so much. 

This week has been a round of leaving for work at 6.30am, leaving work at 4ish, hospital by 5ish, leave hospital 6.30ish, home after 7.15ish.  Too tired to have a meal, then going to bed about 9.30pm, only to not sleep.

By Thursday night, I was so tired, I wasn't overly confident that I would be able to drive home without having an accident, I deliberately chose the quieter routes home from the hospital. 

Friday and the patient is allowed home, thank God, another week and I would have been in the next bed. 

Couple of weeks yet until the biopsy results are back, everything is in God's hands.  I am going to say it now, 100%, everything is going to be OK.