I’ve been having trouble thinking of what to write for my latest blog post. Not because I have ran out of things to talk about (those that know me will know that never happens), but because I’m blissfully living in a state of denial.
It’s been three months since our last hospitalisation, the Department of Education rang me to talk about Aidan’s schooling next year and his birthday is in three days. It’s the first time in a long time we can actually contemplate his future.
I’ve been here before and I know it is part of the journey. When someone experiences loss, doctors and psychologist often talk about the five stages of grief – denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. When Aidan was diagnosed I read all about grief and naturally assumed I would go through each stage one by one and then come to a calm level of acceptance. What I didn’t expect was that I would go through all of these stages many times, in many different orders.
So now I am at my favourite stage. I know it will only last until the next major medical crisis, which may be a few days, a few weeks or, if I’m lucky, a few months, but for now I’m going to soak it up. For now I’m going to enjoy the small glimmer of hope that has so rarely appeared in the last five years.
When I’m in this state the regular visits to hospital, getting up early to make medications and even cleaning up after last night’s nose bleed, all seems that little bit more bearable. It’s times like this that give me strength to keep going, to keep fighting and provide a welcome relief from the reality of our life.