Saturday, March 24, 2012

The Crying Game

This morning I woke up crying. Really. I don't cry much and haven't cried a lot yet. It crept up on me.
Cry #1. In the office of Doctor Misnamer but that was just wet eyes and a quick recovery.

Cry#2. At the reception desk of Dr Misnamer and all up his corridor and treatment room. It nearly got away then I pulled the leash in on it.

Cry#3 and #4. Trying to pick up the kids that day and having little bits of cry almost overflow before being contained again.

Cry#5. The fainty, dizzy one in Dr Hug-me's office after she said the 'm' word. It was a little whiny one that trickled out when she went to find my pathology. It seems my pathology likes to hide out in fax machines and be elusive.

Cry#5. This was the best one. I am still quite in awe of this cry. I won't ever forget it. Doctor Hug-me had let me go and I got the elevator down to the basement carpark and walked to the car with my hand over my mouth. I think I may have been shaking my head for while. Any how I got into the car and put my bag on the seat and before I could do another thing it got out! The Ugly Cry! It just bubbled up and out and hit the windscreen. Who knew I had that noise and face in me? It felt great to just howl at the glovebox and the steering wheel in the dark quiet of that dank carpark. There was quite a bit of howl in there to get out so I let it bounce around inside the cone of silence that is the car. Afterwards I had a deep breath, turned on the car and drove out into the rain. I love rain.

Cry#6. I haven't really had one since then till I woke up doing it this morning. It must have been pooling inside again. Yesterday my beautiful friend in Samoa rang for a long time. She may have spent a small house deposit on that call but it was great. I laughed and chatted and relaxed with somebody who has known me and my breasts for a goodly couple of decades.
It made the rest of the day so much better. The Best Little Mother in Law in the West-ern Suburbs came with lunch and cake and took laundry away. Nanna Lol-lol and Grandad came with bus passes for the boys to start commuting home next week. The big Fella kept way too busy yesterday and looked like he needed a good ugly cry. I must tell him about them.

Last night I took the boys and their friend to see the Hunger Games. I probably would have preferred to sneak next door to watch George Cloony but I had promised them we'd see Hunger Games when they read the book two years ago. It was the only chance I had to take them before all my stuff happens and they won't be getting that late birthday party at the park I had promised them next week end. I thoroughly recommend going to a movie if you have 'something nasty in your woodshed' as I only thought about cancer three times in the three hours we were in there.

Hunger Games is about a young woman who is chosen by lottery to undergo a gruelling battle to the death. She has a brief time to prepare before she is put on the fast train to the inevitable. Experts guide and prompt her through each stage and, unwilling as she is to participate, she just keeps moving through the preparation stages till she finds herself in the arena running hard just to survive. Does this sound familiar? I really got it.

Maybe that's why this morning when I woke up a little cry had slipped out onto my pillow. They hurt my chest when I keep them in so I'm going to let them be free from now on.

Forgive me but this crying song just makes me laugh hard so it's on here. (ignore the dying reference and check out the Ugly Crying!) This one is for the lasagne, Carmel! x


  1. Ugly cry and the Hunger Games! Great idea. I'm off to see it this week. Thinking of you every day..

  2. I cry at everything. In parent-teacher interviews (oh Mu-u-u-u-mmm), at sports days, watching the Biggest Loser (yes, who's the loser??), when my kids give me cards they've made for me, when I'm tired, angry, hungry, and especially when blogging friends have lumpy breasts. Like Deb, you're on my mind every day. Sending love.

  3. I get sweaty eyes too, a lot like, at the drop-of-a-hat.

    I remember once dropping my hat ... don't ask ... I cried.

    Keep crying. Sounds like this week may be a big one for you. You're always in my thoughts. I'm here to help.

  4. Cry, cry all you can and want.........its all the stuff inside that you are finished with leaking cry about what you are feeling about right that minute and let it go..........its a release...and you need a release, or you will go 'pop'....
    'pop' isnt good........... :)
    You have a lot of people with you in their thoughts at the

  5. When did I last cry? A few days ago reading your 'What to tell you' post. Bawl away girl, just don't be surprised if you set the rest of us off.

    By the way, you're now known as Aussie Annie over here, because I keep thinking about you and talking about you and it was getting a tad confusing for my poor hubby.

    Hugs and proffered hankies from across oceans xxx

  6. The phone call helped me too. I thought my eyes had finally got over the ugly cry I had Thursday night and then someone said to me today that my eyes are puffy! I am embracing the puffy and thinking in white. Maybe we can have a little cry or a big ugly one together next time I phone, only problem is you are just too funny and always end up making me laugh. L.U.L. xox

  7. Oh Hell!
    Just put your whole heart in it Annie.
    Your subconscious is telling you to.
    The "Blues" at the beginning left me shelled out.
    I saw a baby's left arm there and her face behind the deluge.
    Still haunted by it.
    I am sure that drawing now for you could be a good outlet.
    And yes, we're all here for you whenever.
    That film was just what you needed as well.

    1. That drawing is just my shadow on the rocks at Coolum holding tiny Shorty a couple of years ago. The mood kind of fitted.

  8. Thank God for distractions. Flight of the Conchords are just hilarious...thinking about Jemaine and Bret makes me smile. If someone asks you why you're crying you can sing there's an inflammation in your tear gland...a little bit of dust in your eyes...

    Cliche #2 re: crying - it's better out than in.
    Thinking of you and sending you an imaginary Kleenex. xx

  9. Just came over from Jane's blog. I am so sorry. You sound so brave and strong. You will beat this with gritted teeth. A-M xx

  10. Oh gosh. i've been away for a few days and so much has happened. I'm thinking of you, and hoping like crazy that you are as ok as possible right now. xx

  11. Hello...I feel rather voyeuristic coming here - I read about you on Jane's blog and so followed the link and of course that propels me right into where you're at. I am so sorry...sorry that this indiscriminate thing has come and made an enormous impact, as of course it would. The tears sound like a good thing; they are there for a reason, for something to escape the body and relieve. I think Jane's experiences with this disease are a lesson to us all. Her resolute pragmatism and bravery, when I am sure she wasn't feeling that brave. What can I say? Other than for every bad thought, there can be three good ones and for every woman who faces this, there is strength they never knew they had. Deep breath...Lou x

  12. Thinking of you. I had breast cancer at 38 years and I am now 54 BUT I still remember the fear of that first diagnosis. I can recommend the Cancer Council Helpline in your state plus they have fabulous resources. Good luck xx

  13. Hi Annie

    Sorry to read about your news. I am also dealing with breast cancer at the moment.If you want someone to talk to or answer questions I would be happy to help. We seem to be about the same age and I suspect live on the same side of town. I found it really helped to talk to other women going through the same experience. Let me know if I can help and I will give you my contact details.
    Suzanne W
    Suzanne W

    1. Thanks Suzanne. you can e-mail me on my contact if it works or on

      I may call in a few weeks when my brain shrinks back to normal size!

  14. Funny and sad at the same time. Lasagne is such a tear jerker. Makes me think of Like Water For Chocolate.

  15. I hate crying in car parks. Although having a good howl in the car or flopped on bed can feel quite satisfying afterwards. I've just flown over from Jane's to send you best wishes and to lend you her Zena the Warrior Woman costume. Millie told her to chuck it in the bin, but I reckon a bit of strut in super-hero garb is just the ticket every now and again. Deb xxx

    1. I love Wonderwoman. We have a small one who resides in our laundry as a washing talisman with a small Marge Simpson. You have inspired me to take her to the hospital for company and a good laugh.

  16. Oh, you lovely lot. I feel I owe you all heartfelt replies but I am a bit to drained to do it. Suffice to say thank you, thank you, thank you. Hang in there. I promise we'll get back to chooks and crochet and roast lizard soon just not right now.



  17. Oh Annie, just let it all out out out. blubbering should be in there somewhere as well- can personally vouch for that one. Usually in the office of some " expert" who tells me that my complicated child's current issues cannot be tackled for at least another year. Having been through a very different emotional wringer to you, I can say, stop and find whatever tiny bits of goodness in each sucky day that you can and hold on tight to them. You can do this, and one day you'll just be another tuckshop mum with a secret history of braveness that you will always carry. melx

  18. What a clever, wise and generous person you are Annie.
    You had my heart leaping then, amazingly, you gifted a giggle at the end when I clicked over to watch the Conchords.

    A great big virtual hug,
    x Felicity


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