I’ve realised I can take time off and the world will not stop turning. I’ve realised that I have support that is widespread and genuine. I’ve realised that like Pooh, I am braver than I believe, stronger than I seem, and smarter than I think.
I’ve also realised that my time on treatment really is drawing to an end
Three weeks left. Three weeks! When I first started I couldn’t imagine so much time on treatment. Now as I reach the end I can’t believe I have so little time left.
My whole life is structured around those tablets at 7:30am and 7:30pm. It guides almost everything I do. It’s always in the back of my mind. And here’s where the compulsive in me comes out: I don’t know how to approach having that taken away from me.
Am I sick of throwing down so many tablets every day? Sure. But does it also give me a feeling of security, like perhaps I am on top of this? That maybe I am the one in charge of my destiny? I’m not sure. (And when I say I’m not sure, what I really mean is I’m totally sure - I want control, of something, ANYTHING.)
Clearly while I might have stopped being a control freak in some ways, like trying to micro-manage the ENTIRE world, I have not forsaken my tendencies when it comes to the most basic of tasks.
Honestly? The truth is that I believe I need those tablets, because while I’m on them I don’t have hepatitis C. When I come off them, I have no idea what might happen.
That might explain why when I rang my mother to crow - “Three more weeks! THREE MORE WEEKS!!” - I got off the phone and promptly burst into tears. I don’t know whether to be happy, sad, scared, excited, or all of those emotions rolled into one.
Luckily for me, Colin Thompson has written the perfect book*.
Three more weeks. Starting today.
*What? You’ve never read Colin Thompson? For heavens sake, what is stopping you? Try The Short and Incredibly Happy Life Of Riley too.