20th May 2006

An odd week coming up, my dad is in hospital all week and I’m going to visit him everyday.

Tonight I walked onto the ward. 

You know the expression ‘face lit up’ well that happened, it was so strange. I know my dad loves me but I think I know him well enough now to see when he is scared. 

He is scared, he won’t admit it, anxious or nervous or apprehensive but he doesn’t say scared. I am. More afraid of the inevitable and as selfish as it sounds I always expect what ever happens to him to happen to me but earlier. When I’m feeling positive I think that it won’t ever be me that I’ve had my last tumour.

When I was at university I have a strong memory of sitting in the auditorium, listening to a lecture and feeling my arm go heavy. I could lift it, use it but some how it felt heavy and I knew that feeling, my other hand and arm had been doing it for months before I told anyone and then I had a scan and then I had a brain tumour. Of course I had the tumour while my arm was going heavy but it felt like it didn’t appear until I told anyone. I sat wriggling my fingers, pinching away at my arm and then I started to cry. My lecturer notice and she looked really pissed off. At the end of the lecture she asked me what was wrong in a cross way. She knew about the previous surgery and I told her about my arm, her face changed. We talked and she asked what would make me feel better. Imagine.

'A scan everyday.' That was it, I wanted to know every second what was going on inside me. Impossible.

I didn’t get there on Thursday by the way.