October 2014

It's been two years now, since the surreal experience of being told I had a brain tumour. Last year I really succumbed to the memory of it. I spent ages explaining in detail to anyone that would listen, what happened when. I enjoyed prodding the scab of my still bruised psyche and in the process, pushed the patience of my closest ones to the limit.

I thought that it was a one year thing, and that I would then move on.

But here I am. Two years have passed and I'm still banging on. I can't stop thinking about it. I know exactly what I was doing at this time on this day two years ago. It's taking all my will power to not keep reminding people as each hour moves on. (Right now, we were in A&E and I was just about to go for the first scan. We didn't know yet. We didn't know.)

Today and tomorrow were dramatic. Although my day today is fairly mundane, in the background, I still feel low level adrenaline and anxiety. Poor naive us, sitting in A&E, oblivious.

I wonder if I'll ever move on.