It seemed a cruel jab to the gut, seeing new life being carried away from the hospital. A brand, spanking new little being,healthy and full of prospects - seeing this, as I prepare to embark on 6 weeks of radiotherapy, 5 days a week and then a lifetime of even more hospital appointments than I already had before I was diagnosed with a brain cancer.
I want to be that picture. I want to be walking out of those doors to live a life; free.
I'd like to say I've lived but circumstance after circumstance after circumstance, have sucked the joy and zest from life. I suppose that is living but there haven't been many great moments in between and I thought I might get a few before death came a'knocking. I wanted to have lived and felt free.
My diagnosis is not a death sentence but it certainly shortens my lifetime considerably and turns any 'plans' I had upside down.
I'm waiting for this situation to bring me some profound moment, some epiphany, some new perspective but as yet that's not happened and for now, I am well and truly miffed!!
I'm not happy with the hand I've been dealt, yet at the same time, I'm so grateful for Ninewells. What a contradiction; I hate the place but I have immense gratitude for the treatment I have received and have the opportunity to receive.
And an other bizarre contradiction; all of these doctors and nurses working hard to keep me alive but I am alive and no more. I want to be alive and living.
I'm not scared of dying- everyone dies, that's life. What would be a tragedy would be a life un-lived.
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