This week, from my perspective...

It’s funny how long time takes when your world feels like it will end. Everything stops, everything, your heart, your mind, you continue because you must, but you do not know how you are doing it. Your arms move, your legs walk, you do the school run, but for me that’s as far as it went. We have been eating nothing but pasta, omlettes and bought soups since Tuesday. The laundry I could not even look at, the animals fed at 1 am, as I still paced about, everything had stopped.

I was getting by on auto pilote, my friends were concerned by the weight I have lost. But how can I eat when my soulmate is where he is? I know I must, I try, barely stomaching drinking cold soup out of the carton, retching a bit on anything solid, I stick to tea and soup and bananas. Well there’s worse diets! But I do it because I know that although my world is on hold, I have to be strong for you and the kids.

It’s funny, an event like this rearranges ALL priorities. We busily go about our lives, ‘fulfilling’ ourselves by the things we like to do, our routines, our hobbies and so on. But when it comes to it, when it really comes to it, something of such magnitude stops the clock. The washing’s ignored, spilling out from every corner, the cooking becomes opening cartons and reheating, one’s self, forgotten. Because none of this actually matters.

I have been going to and from the hospital 3 times a day, 20 minutes there and 20 minutes back again, arranging kids’ care, dressing them in unironed clothes, hair unbrushed, toothbrushes forgotten about. But still trying to keep some normality for them, doing the school run, head low, not wanting the world to see my swollen red eyes, my pale tear stained face, my unwashed hair.

Other mummies rally round my head spins with proposals of babysitting, taking them to play at theirs, feeding them, taking them to school. It’s all too much, I cannot make the simplest of decisions, I just break down as my mind goes blank, is it real? All this? Pleading with myself to 'wake up and it'll all have been a dream'. So many kind offers, but I cannot cope. The decisions are made for me, they organise me, the kids, and free me to be with Alex in hospital when I can. I am someone who finds it very hard to ask things of people, but I have learned this week, that people WANT to help, they WANT to be useful, they ARE there for you and do not begrudge it, quite the opposite, as I usually think. Normally, hence, I carry on doing it all myself, but even I, this week, have just quietly agreed to kids being looked after, trying not to feel hopelessly guilty about not being with them, meeting their needs, trying not to worry, they are with friends having a ‘good time’, and all I can think about is Alex.

I wanted to keep it as normal as possible for the kids, I smile and cuddle them, telling them ‘yes, daddy’s fine, sweetheart’ but break down when they cuddle me tightly back. They feel everything kids, they ‘get’ it. I explain ‘daddy’s poorly, he is in hospital, but he’ll be fine, they make you better in hospital’. But my tear filled eyes and fake brave face they see through.

This morning I visit you, you are still 'out of it' but whisper to me to come over, you grab my bum! And say 'Wow, that's that's the first time I have felt your booty in DAYS!' And I cry, you made a joke! You said something the Alex I know says all the time! Although you're still very weak, and doze off again after a few minutes...

I went to Hospital this evening again and tonight I do not recognise him, he sits up in bed, smiles, and chats away for an hour or so, the drips no longer in his arms, the heart monitor no longer present. How can this be? This morning even, he couldn’t speak much, too tired, head hurting still. It’s me, this time who says very little, I guess seeing you this way, the blanket I have put on my emotions, my routines, my life, is lifted, and I suddenly feel complete and utter exhaustion. You seem to be ‘back’.

I arrive home and tell the kids that tomorrow we are going to go in and see daddy (at his request, he has not even been able to contemplate this before). We are at the tea table, Monty and Lola double over, bodies heaving with tears and uncontrollable sobs. Bless their little hearts, they have ‘got’ it all along…

So tomorrow we are ALL off to see him, he will be able to walk down the corridor to the part where children are allowed. How is this? How can you so suddenly have turned the corner in this way? OK, you're not healed, you still have to stay in under close observation till your scan, but look at you! God IS there, he does hear our pain, our prayers, and he DOES respond.

To all of you out there, the hundreds and hundreds of people who have been reading my story, our story, the thousands of people who have been praying, THANK YOU from the bottom of our hearts. Your love, prayers and thoughts have carried me through this unimaginably intense week. Tonight, I am daring to believe it WILL be alright, you ARE coming home on Friday, and due to all this, we will continue, my baby, to grow from strength to strength, hand in hand, soul enveloping soul, love engulfing each others' daily lives.

Oh Alex, what a week…! When you see all the messages, when you read the kind words, from friends, and people whom we have never even met. When you see the support we have been offered, you will be weeping, as I have been! I can assure you of that.

This is normally my Thought For The Day today, but honestly, if there’s something I can say to everyone from this week’s experience, it’s that, if we could all be a little more grateful for the smaller things, basic comforts we have, we would have less of a need to ‘keep on searching’ and thus be SO much more fulfilled with that which we DO have…

Thank you everyone, from the bottom of our hearts and souls for the support, help, and love and prayers. It looks like his corner has been turned, and I WILL have my man back!

Tamsyn x

Quick update, he overdid it completely yesterday! Did not have a very good night, head pain etc...BUT he still seems MUCH better.