This morning we have been sitting and waiting for what seems like eternity for that phone to ring, for someone to put us out of our misery and offer us an appointment at the hospital for the scan that Coran needs to confirm whether or not he has that clot. While we wait everything else also hangs in the balance - whether he can continue to take the female hormones that he has been on for the past 2 1/2 years to femininise the body and balance his emotions and feelings, whether I can go to Cornwall at the weekend, or for that matter, even whether I can go to work tonight. I hate this waiting around and this not knowing, yet I also realise that we are not the only ones, and someone (in fact lots of poeple) somewhere else is also playing that same, the game of waiting and not knowing, and the game of uncertainty.
The trouble is of course, for those affected by this, it is no game, but very serious indeed. This is their lives and our lives. I spoke to one of the residents at work yesterday about what had happened, and she helped to put things in a little more perspective, as she has the exact same condition. She is the youngest resident in the home at just 56 and has a category 2 brain tumour and colonostomy, and as it turns out a blood clot in her leg for which she also has daily injections. This in many ways, despite her own problems, put her in a ideal position to offer the solace that I needed. I am ashamed to say that she brought tears to my eyes, as I realised just how much this has and continues to affect both of us. It is like I say the not knowing and all the waiting around.
Sure we joke about it with friends, but inside, it is a very different matter, both of are very fearful as to what it might mean and how it may affect our lives. This may sound melodramatic, but it is no small thing to be given news such as this. I know it is treatable, but the treatment is intrusive and affects both of us our lives. We have enough stress at the moment, with all the changes that are going on, both emotionally and energetically, and don't need anymore.
I have the added stress at the moment of preparing the October edition of the newsletter for which I have just realised I have no centrespread. This afternoon then I should sit down and write something - probably about my recent trip to Iceland in the absense of anything else, but somehow I do not have the heart. I think I would much rather switch on my phone and go and sit in the sun, but instead we have to the hospital for yet another injection. Perhaps we can go for that cuppa on the way back before I have to head on out again for work.
All I can say is that it bloody well better be worth it, or otherwise when I pass over God will be getting an alimighty kick up the backside!