Waiting is the hardest part

I didn’t sleep well funnily enough the night after that appointment.  I found myself up at 2am drinking tea and watching some old rubbish on the TV.

The following day I decided I needed to tell my parents about what was going on. There was a fine line between not wanting to worry them and not involving them and I thought to myself that if I had a daughter of my own that I’d want her to tell me.

I wasn’t able to deliver the news to them myself.  I’d tried to psych  myself up to it, but every time I pictured their faces at the other end of the phone I broke into tears.  I’d texted my Mum in advance to check of their whereabouts – I didn’t want them to be in the post office or at the garden centre when answering the phone.  Pats explained to them what I’d found and what they’d said to me at the hospital and  after I’d managed to calm myself down I chatted to my Mum.  I explained that we needed to now wait for two weeks to find out the results.

Time usually goes by so fast.  I have a busy life and I work in a very fast paced environment where days hurtle by at a rate of knots.  I always wished if I had a super power it would either be to make time slow down, to add more hours to the day or to allow myself to be in more than one place at once so I could fit in all the things I wanted to do.

In those two weeks following my initial appointment it felt like someone had paused my life.  Like someone had pressed that button on the remote control, you know, the one that moves each pane of the film on step-by-step.

I’d told my manager and HR at work, both of whom were incredibly supportive.  I couldn’t focus at work let alone concentrate on what I was supposed to be doing. It became all encompassing.

My sister had sent me a beautiful bouquet of flowers to my house.  When I opened the door to the florist I started crying – the poor woman was probably expecting a happy face to open the door!  This was the beginning of a succession of very pretty flowers to be delivered to me.


I tried my hardest not to worry.  Tara kept gently telling me that there was no point wasting energy in worrying until there was something to worry about and so that’s what I kept telling myself. It was the only option but to think positively about what they might say.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s