Fear

I've never really thought of myself as a fearful person. I usually have a good outlook. I'm learning a lot about fear now. It has become part of my daily existance. It's so hard to talk about. It feels like if I do, it will become real; this whole terrible situation will become real. Fear hangs over our house like an unwelcome guest, the kind that you wish would just get the hint and leave. But he doesn't. The kids are blissfully unaware at this point, and I want to keep it that way. I don't know how they will possibly understand that Mommy is dying. It would be different if we could give them a time, or the how's and why's, but it's much more complicated than that. And then there is the hope that I will somehow beat this thing, and we don't want them to go through the anxiety when there is still a chance.

I feel so sick. I'm in so much pain. This is so hard. I hope I'm up to the task.