A 'moment'

After my last post, I decided I wanted a smoke. I went to go out, but the front door was locked and alarmed. I got the key from one of the nurses, who deactivated the alarm for me.

I stood out the front in the cold night air. Wimborne is still and crisp and quiet. I stood there and realised I felt no pain. I giggled to myself that I am in a wonderful hospital, where I have the key to the front door. Where the hell could I hope for better treatment?

I thought of the wonderful, inspiring, touching and loving messages, conversations and visits I have had from family and friends in the last few weeks. Flowers, amazingly beautiful flowers. Some very personal messages that I don’t wish to repeat but that make the nothairs on my neck stand up. An honesty and frankness and love from my brother that we have never shared in such detail before. A very special written message from my parents that they probably have no idea how much it would mean. Patience at my crankiness from various people. Seemingly unconditional love and laughter from my best friends. How at the 4N Christmas party, my friends, and people I don’t know, played air guitar to ‘Summer of 69’ for me last night. How Neil’s dad visited me today with a warmth as if I’ve known him for ages, when in fact I have only met him once before and how his family have accepted me so easily. And how I have found a love with and from a man who is just amazing and makes me feel beautiful; more beautiful than I have felt with any man before; and I have minimal hair, 1 tit and have been cancered up ever since I met him.

I stood there, feeling like I wanted to run and skip and whoop at the amazingness of it all. I didn’t, of course, that would have been daft. I haven’t run for years. And my homemade belt/giftbag combo to hold my drainage bottles may not have withstood the impact. But the freshness of the air and the overwhelming feeling of calmness, happiness and awe at how I can feel like this at a time like this is one I would love to bottle and give to people who are sad for any reason. It was amazing, really amazing.

3 responses to “A 'moment'

  1. Well I’ve just read your blog from 29th November. I can count on my fingers how many times I’ve been reduced to tears – not even when my lovely Mum passed away. However, after reading your wonderful, eloquent log I sat in floods! You are very special and deserve all the happiness in the world. x

  2. Sarah

    I have just had time to catch up on your blog and read this particular insert. Well you know me and crying anyway so you can only imagine the state I am now in!! What a wonderful, touching and heart felt message. I honestly think you should wirte a book about your experience using all your blog inserts as they make for great reading for anyhone who needs inspiration. I am so gklad you are doing so well. Big snogs Rach

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