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.
