I've been spoiled for company this last week. My mum and her husband came to stay locally (a caravan site across the fields from me). They popped round every day for coffee and took me to my 2 hospital appointments. Next week is going to be a bit strange by comparison I think. They were supposed to come over Christmas but a broken car and the snow put paid to that. It's only been since a few months before I found out about the squatters that we've really been in contact again. I thought since she'd be at my younger sister's wedding it would be easier for everyone if we met up before hand - of course I had all that pain and worry so it never happened. Then I decided I couldn't really deny her spending time with me now I don't have much time. It could have been the "cancer" voice inside pushing me, but I got my son back in my life and she got another daughter in hers. That's how the universe works.
I think after a terrible night the pain has lessened in my left side/back, or is it because I've done less today? Friday night I had liquid filling up Fatty's pouch, four times it filled, I was even sat letting it drain whilst Fatty was doing his thing. 3.30am he shut up. I guess that wetherspoon vegan curry was a mistake?
Fastforward to Sunday afternoon and Fatty still hadn't made a move. Should I have been concerned? I mean judging by what came out Friday night there wasn't anything left, I'd not eaten huge amounts and the more time passes the more I'm scared to eat in case of a blockage (memories of when my colon "forgot" to work for 10 days after the reversal. All of a sudden I get that fammiliar pushing from inside, like Alien is about to burst out and off he goes, half a pouchful.
Luckily that happened before "He" camme to visit, to finally collect the last of the things left at my house, stuff I'd borrowed. I gave him a couple of silly presents for his birthday next week, which I might have got as another reason to get him to come over sooner rather than later, or just because I saw things that made me think of him and made me smile. Originally he was coming Thursday, then Saturday but I had visitors. I spent most of the weekend feeling sick at the thought of seeing him again - it's been 4 months and I thought I'd parked my feelings but no, I don't feel any sodding different at all. I wanted to say so many things, ask if he is still happy, is it how he thought it would be, is it what he still wants? Is this the last time I'll see him now? I couldn't do it though, easier just to keep to small talk. "So what's new?" "Think my tumours have shrunk". You know, the usual.
Still I got 3 very long hugs which I should just try and forget because I don't think I can go through this again. Seems so unfair that he waited nearly 20 years to finally be with her and however he was feeling all those years is what he's making me feel now. I don't want anyone else, which is lucky because I'm not in a position to be with anyone any more. I wish I didn't care about him. I wish I could see him more often, but I don't need the emotional upset, however good I felt for the short hour he was here, the pay off isn't worth it.
I see my daughter tomorrow and hopefully normality will be restored.