I started writing this on Friday, and finally found the strength and times to finish it today....
I have spent the last couple of days in a daze, following Claire's stroke. I guess I have been in that 'shock' state that all change initally creates. I'm going to see her tomorrow, finally, but the good news is that she is much brighter today, some feeling has come back in her leg and she is reading the newspaper. So much reiki is flowing her way that I'm sure she can't help but have a full recovery. God, I hope so.
I think back to my postings recently about my feelings when my brother died and how I didn't know how to feel or what to feel, and the sense that I had to be strong for my parents; and I wonder how Claire's kids are feeling right now. Samuel is 11 and Esther 9. It must be so incredibly frightening for them, but you wonder what other thoughts are wandering through their young heads. At least they do have a great father. Claire's hubby may be frustratingly practical and sometimes worryingly attached to taking things apart and not putting them back together again, but he is probably the best father a kid could have.
Having seen Claire three times now, I feel so much better and a bit less dazed by the whole thing. She is improving well but still struggles with her speech. Yesterday she was seriously pissed off because she she still hadn't had a wash at 3pm, so Pippa and I washed her to cheer her up. It's the least you can do for your best buddy. Her dad told me she had had a shower and a hairwash this morning and was much brighter for it. It's amazing how those small things we take for granted become so important to your morale when you're in hospital and can't do it for yourself.
I've also been in touch with her cyber-pals The Glitter Sisters - what a fabulous bunch of women. So much love and support is flowing from them, it's wonderful. The sense of community is quite amazing, and it's hugely supporting for me too. Sometimes being the 'supporter' is quite difficult; wanting to be constantly upbeat and positive for Claire's sake and for her friends and family, believing that she will make a full and complete recovery. At the same time being acutely aware of her mortality and the very real risk that she won't make old bones. It doesn't bear thinking about, and so I'm not, but the possibility hangs in the back of my mind like a cobweb dangling from the ceiling, just out of reach of the duster. Most of the time I can ignore it, occasionally it catches my eye and comes sharply into focus. But I also don't want to draw attention to it and give it more energy than it deserves, so I don't talk about my fears, only my positive hopes.
Today she had doppler scans on her carotid arteries to check for any other blood clots. I will feel so much easier when I know there aren't any.
Tea and bed I think... ready for another day.