A big dose of self pity
Today hasn't been a good day. First of all my legs felt really niggly on my run this morning and I had to give up after 0.75 miles rather than risk making it worse, then I got some not great news about my grandfather.
I think he's right that the cancer won't have time to get him. It seems like heading over to St Annes for the wedding took a hell of a lot out of him, and he's struggling to recover from the exertion. He's been in and out of hospital since he got back, and it doesn't sound particularly good. I'm only just about getting myself back together after the last bout of terminal illness, and I'm scared to death that we're about to go through it all again.
I spent the afternoon thinking about chocolate and wine, resorting to the old tactics for taking my mind off stuff and consoling myself. I wish I was one of those people who loses their appetite when they go through stress, but I'm clearly not. I did manage to talk myself out of it, reminding myself that I wasn't hungry and it wouldn't help, but I have a horrible feeling that I know where this is going.
It was one of the most painful parts about the wedding, seeing my uncle saying goodbye to grandpa before flying back to America. No-one said anything, there were no hugs or tears, but I suspect that most of the people round that table thought that it was probably the last time they'd see each other. That's what that side of my family's like, hiding emotions and keeping a stiff upper lip. No big, teary speeches or goodbyes, just a quiet acceptance.
I'm hoping to get up there on Saturday, but I'm really not looking forward to what I might find.
I think he's right that the cancer won't have time to get him. It seems like heading over to St Annes for the wedding took a hell of a lot out of him, and he's struggling to recover from the exertion. He's been in and out of hospital since he got back, and it doesn't sound particularly good. I'm only just about getting myself back together after the last bout of terminal illness, and I'm scared to death that we're about to go through it all again.
I spent the afternoon thinking about chocolate and wine, resorting to the old tactics for taking my mind off stuff and consoling myself. I wish I was one of those people who loses their appetite when they go through stress, but I'm clearly not. I did manage to talk myself out of it, reminding myself that I wasn't hungry and it wouldn't help, but I have a horrible feeling that I know where this is going.
It was one of the most painful parts about the wedding, seeing my uncle saying goodbye to grandpa before flying back to America. No-one said anything, there were no hugs or tears, but I suspect that most of the people round that table thought that it was probably the last time they'd see each other. That's what that side of my family's like, hiding emotions and keeping a stiff upper lip. No big, teary speeches or goodbyes, just a quiet acceptance.
I'm hoping to get up there on Saturday, but I'm really not looking forward to what I might find.
posted by YP at 7:54 PM
2 Comments:
I am sorry to hear about your Grandfather YP, I hope things turn out ok for him and for your family. Take care of yourself and good on you for not caving in to the chocolate and wine. All the very best, Amanda.
That doesn't sound like self-pity to me; more trying to cope with your worries about other people. Though I think it's deeply admirable that you didn't self-medicate with chocolate, I wouldn't blame you if you had!
I hope your weekend goes OK. But I think it's natural to be upset in the circumstances. I have my fingers crossed for you.
Post a Comment
<< Home