Michelle

We told Michelle. You will be proud of me to know that I kept it together, at least for the most part. She was understandably confused, angry, sad. She pulled away from me at first. Then came close to me. Then pulled away. Then ducked when I reached for her. She cried. She asked me if I would die. She buried herself under her blanket and then left the room. She said she needed to be alone. She went into the study room and played her flutaphone, and sang. And read a book. I checked on her. Alan checked on her. And an hour later she came downstairs. Where she alternated between tears and Mario Kart. We promised her we would keep her informed. I promised her she could sleep with me tonight.

Then, I emailed her teacher. I dropped my cancer on her like a bomb. In hindsight I could have handled that better. I directed her to this blog, that so few people even know about yet. But I will do whatever I need to do to help Michelle, and I will rely on her teacher to assist me.

And now that Michelle knows, I feel stronger. Is that weird or normal? For Michelle I will keep it together. I have to. That’s my job and it’s very important.

Tomorrow morning I see Dr. C.

Tomorrow afternoon I go to a pub to meet a CPR teacher to renew my CPR.

Sounds to me like tomorrow is the first day of my new life. And I will have to drive.