Today has been hell. Like, actual hell. A really shitty day.
Firstly, The Guy I Couldn’t Get Rid Of turned up completely unannounced at my house last night. What was he playing at? I have serious space issues, so having some bloke turn up at my front door when I least expect him is one of the worst things that could happen to me. What if I’m halfway through having a wank? Or de-fuzzing my face? Or plucking my chin hairs? And who turns up at the house of a girl he’s been dating for a few months, gone midnight?
I already felt a little low before he turned up, and then all we did was have little gripey fights for the whole time he was at mine. I was desperately trying to find a reason to get rid of him. For good. Last night was a nail-in-the-coffin moment for me. He’s actually the last person I would want showing up at my front door out of the blue.
Thankfully, he left fairly promptly this morning and I assumed my drama of the day would be over. It wasn’t. My mother then called me in floods of tears. She was involved in a car accident a while back and has had a few injuries and issues as a result. Minor ones, but still, issues. One of those issues turned into something else today; she’s now being tested for cancer. Lymphoma if you want the specifics. We’ve got a few more days until her blood tests are revealed, and we’re all keeping our fingers very tightly crossed that this is all some scary false alarm.
The thought of my mother having to go through that, though? It’s breaking my heart. I can’t keep the tears inside, and I’m not really a big crier by nature … but I’m having a really tough time keeping the tears from streaming down my face. And because I’m crying and my mother isn’t used to it, it’s making her cry even more. Tears everywhere. So many tears.
My Mama is a fairly healthy person. She’s not a smoker, she doesn’t drink, and she’s in pretty good shape. I know that cancer knows no bounds and all that, but she takes care of herself to ensure that she doesn’t get sick. It’s not fair that she might be sick. It won’t be fair if she is sick. I do all of the bad stuff: drink, smoke, take drugs, burn the candle at both ends as a life motto … Give it to me. Don’t make her sick. I’ll take it. I deserve it. I abuse my body something rotten. I don’t know how I’d cope if she were ill. Or worse than that: not in my life. She’s my rock. My best friend.
I comforted her, of course. It’s probably nothing. The doctors have gotta test for everything, even the bad stuff, even when they think it’s not that, right? We’ll wait for the results and take it from there, but everything will be fine. Blah, blah, blah. So now we wait. I’m dreading that phone call from her after the weekend, and I’m seriously hoping that this is all just some massive overreaction. It happens a lot in our family. The really bad news is all everyone can focus on, and it usually ends up being something not quite that bad. I can’t take that for granted, obviously, but I’m really hoping we’re all just overreacting in that way we’re known for.
We’ve decided not to tell my younger sister for now. She’s a very sensitive soul and would IN NO WAY be able to cope with this kind of news. It would destroy her. We can’t even talk about the C-word around her without her bursting into tears. This is not a conversation we need to have right now. That’s what my mother thinks and I’m inclined to agree with her. We’ll tell her when she needs to know. (Unless my Mama changes her mind before then.)
Keep your fingers crossed for us, folks. My fingers are so tightly crossed that my digits have gone white.
I don’t believe in God, but I’m secretly throwing secret prayers out there tonight.
Please let my beautiful Mama be okay.