Aaaaarrrrrgggghhhhhhhhh fucking bastard cancer. I hate what it is doing to my child, all our children, our families. I want to do it for my child, not watch him suffer. I'm not sure I would be as brave but I'd suffer anything for him to just be having a normal life.
An MRI scan on your 18th birthday - it's so not fucking fair. And yet he seems to be ok with it - let's just get it over with mum, it's ok. I want to weep with admiration for him, weep with sadness for all that he has lost, weep with fear of the unknown future.
I feel like I am having to control every breath, in and out, concentrate on that otherwise the anxiety takes over.
On taking him home after school yesterday his head dropped forward - I panic inwardly - has he had a stroke, has he died just there in front of me, has he just fallen asleep? It's not normal to think like that I know but my son has a brain tumour and I don't know what will happen.
If you met me though you wouldn't know that there is this anxiety, panic going on. I'm all calm and jolly on the outside, I do my hair and make up, look presentable, pass the time if day with anyone. All the while there is this voice inside me, crying, screaming. I have gone very grey over the last two years and for every lb that my son has lost I have gained (plus some).
Rant and self pitying over. Mask on, paint a smile and get on with the day.