Well, not confession as such, but really, what is a blog if not a chance to expunge our soul and psyche of all the floating doubts and lingering guilt trips that we take ourselves on daily.
Since my last post, the feeling I have had of my own impending mortality has become stronger, and is now accompanied by pain, and lots of it. What started as a niggle here and a niggle there, has become in a month a mind numbing assault of aches and stabbing sensations everywhere between chest and thigh level. My whole lower back and abdomen is rebelling against me and I have no idea of the cause, so I am to visit the doctor in a couple of days.
Of course, I did the worst thing any person could do on getting pains, I consulted the internet.... never ever consult the internet with the intention of making a self diagnosis.... you will ALWAYS be dying of cancer!! ALWAYS!!
Of course, I could be, but that is not the point. I don't know what it is causing the pains. It could be kidney stones, ovarian cysts, IBS (otherwise a very bad case of gas!), really any number of things, but of course what it now is, in my head, thanks to the internet, is Ovarian Cancer. A cancer which kills more than half of the people who get it and therefore my prophetic feelings of doom are coming to pass.
But really, I am trying to talk myself out of this. There is absolutely no history of cancer in my family, I am 36 so not in the prime age group to get it, I took the combined pill for 10 years which hugely lowers the risk, I have 2 children, both delivered by c-section, the second only being a year ago, so you'd have thought they would have noticed while they were in there if anything was not looking right.
Of course, that always brings up the other option - they left a foreign object in me at the c-section.... again, it has been over a year so probably would have shown up by this point....
The problem is that I do not know what is wrong, and I hate that! I hate not knowing why something is happening. I hate not being able to stop it. I hate having to rely on a doctor to get enough information from my garbled list of symptoms that they will send me for the correct round of tests in order to successfully come to a correct diagnosis. I hate not being in control.....
I am a control freak..... there, that is my confession. My wonderful husband used to call me Monica when we were first living together, after Monica from Friends. My fridge magnets were symetrical. My CD's and DVD's were alphabetised, and catalogued, my books were grouped alphabetically, by author and then by date released..... Yep! Control freak!
Now, with children (and a husband) in my life, my house is in chaos. My books, cd's and dvd's are routinely removed from the shelves and strewn about the floor by my one year old. My 6 year old has claimed most of the fridge magnets and they serve the purpose of displaying her artistic efforts for the viewing public as they pass through my kitchen.
As I worry about my health, I appreciate that chaos more. We went camping at the weekend and the kids were covered in dirt head to toe from arriving friday to leaving sunday. My 6 year old got through 6 sets of clothes in 2 days and still came home in dirty ones. It was wonderful.
This weekend, we have played outside, the girls have had their playpool and ball pit out and I have been trying to find the flower beds under the weeds, and it has been wonderful to watch them play, carefree, dirty, no tv, no computer, just a bit of water, a few toy boats and some plastic balls in an inflatable car. Last night, we sat and watched the first Harry Potter movie together. I was nearly sent mad by the "who's he", "what's going to happen". What's going to happen now", What just happened" questioning, but we made it to the end, and she wants to watch the rest with me now - we'll see... she's only 6 and the early ones aren't to scary but the later ones may just be too much for her I think, she is a delicate girl emotionally.
Today, I am finally getting on with that Will, and trying to up my insurance, just in case, but mainly, I am trying to make memories with my girls. Whether I die next year or in 50 years, I want to be sure that every day spent with them is not wasted but enjoyed and treasured to the full. What blessings children are. We see ourselves in their young faces, remember the innocence and joy of our youth and how quickly we wanted to be grown, and now we are, how much we would give to return to those happy easy days of childhood. I wonder how much they will remember when they are grown, and if they will find the same memories crossing their minds as the splash and play with their own children in their gardens..... I hope so....
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