Hope is a dangerous thing.
So I haven’t been writing on here for a while because I’m trying to spend all my spare time with my mother. I wrote a few weeks ago about her cancer and what the doctors had told us. The thing is, they were a little wrong. Not a lot wrong, but just a little.
They gave my mother an estimated 2-4 weeks left to live. Tomorrow marks 5 week’s since we were told that, and her blood levels aren’t great right now but they are holding up against the leukaemia. Hopefully this week we find out if she is recovered enough from her last treatment to possibly start treatment again. I hope so, I’m not ready to say goodbye to her yet.
Hope is a very powerful and dangerous thing. You see, a couple weeks ago I was going through a process of mourning for someone who hadn’t died yet. It’s a very strange feeling. All hope had been taken away and it left an empty hole in my heart. The possibility that we might be able to treat further gives me faith again. I just don’t want it to destroy me.