It’s been a funny feeling dealing with everyday life while the journey towards the operation continues on and I’ve come to realise what it feels like.
It’s as though every now and again, just when I’ve settled back into the daily swing of my life, someone comes right up to me and swings a massive punch, hitting me square in the jaw and while my head is snapped round they’re shouting:
“Remember you’re having your chest cracked open, and your heart stopped and sliced open!”
Boom. Richard, meet reality.
There’s a chest tightening moment and normal life disappears and I’m once again feeling nervous and apprehensive, taking in the enormity of the situation.
Give it a few hours, perhaps a day, never any more, and life has returned to normal. I’m going through the everyday process, dealing with work, the dog, the dishes, everything to distract me from what’s coming, from the fact that I’m hanging onto this racing train and the station is in sight.
Then something will happen like a call from the hospital, a letter, a visit for swabs, just someone asking about it, and I’m getting Sucker Punched again.
That’s how it feels.