There is a disconnect between how I look, and how I feel. From the outside, I look like the picture of health. Maybe a little dark under the eyes, but that’s been the case since Melodie was born three and a half years ago. On the inside I am scared. I have always assumed, taken for granted, that I would watch my kids grow, and perhaps, someday, watch them raise their own children. What an unpleasant reality check the last week and a half has been. It has occurred to me many times, mostly at night, that my children could lose their mother before they have a chance to remember the love I have for them. This is a feeling that I would not wish onto anyone. Maybe that is a thought too depressing to share with all of you… But I have noticed that an excess of 200 people view this blog per day. The number has grown steadily since it was created less than a week ago. People are doing as I have done – searching the internet for a story, or someone that can relate. So maybe some young mother out there is feeling as I am feeling now, and she might find comfort in knowing that she is not alone. That same person may also find comfort in knowing that these dark thoughts are outnumbered by feelings of awe at the wonderful outreach of support, beautiful messages, and kind gestures that have come from family, friends, and mere acquaintances. There has also been the effect that comes with potentially facing your own mortality – the world feels different. The little things stand out in a big way. You realize how lucky you are to be here today, breathing, living, enjoying the company of those family members, friends, and acquaintances.
Thursday draws ever closer. The sooner it comes, the sooner it will be over with. Every moment is a step closer to finding out what this thing is, and what we are going to do about it. Either way, I’m going to kick it’s ass.