I haven't cooked once this week. Clothes are where they were left, mail still sitting unopened. Kitchen sink is pleading to get some attention. The dishwasher is still full and I'm sure the laundry baskets are in a distress state. I just heard Arjun wondering if there were any washed Jammie's.
Yesterday my niece's husband was over for dinner. He was visiting the area for work. I know he likes shrimp and so does Arjun, so I thought we will take him out for dinner, but it was so hard for me to make dinner plans or think about a restaurant and once I found couple, calling to make reservations seemed too much. Finally, he suggested a place and we went there.
However, today was the hardest. I have decided to start Kids & Art back again. And we plan to do our first art workshop on Oct 20th. I had sent flyers to the social worker from LPCH and as I was driving home from work I got a call from a mom from the hospital who had seen the flyer and wanted to sign her son up for the workshop. I don't know what happend to me as soon as I heard the moms voice? I don't remember what she said, she told me her and her son's name but I was not there. I couldn't wait to cut the conversation short and hang up. And that is what I did while trying really hard to control my tears. I did not want her to ask me about my connection to the cause, about my child and how he was doing in treatment. I suddenly felt like I did not represent hope, what am I going to say to her... Just hearing her voice took me right back to the waiting room, I was there with all the families, waiting. I could see all the kids... On their devices, some on the hospital Nintendo. Some on wheelchairs. But I did not see Amaey there. It was as if I was transported there but no one could see me.
It was really hard. Just like all the firsts... I was taken by complete surprise at my reaction to a completely normal situation.