Gosh, isn't it amazing how we can feel cheerful one moment, and like the world has ended the next. Had a busy day at work yesterday, which didn't help my mood any, then got home only to find that poor John wasn't in a great mood, either. After we both snapped at each other I found myself sitting in the backyard, trying very hard not to cry. I did good until he came out - and apologized for snapping at me. Then I just burst. It was good to finally get some of it out, and maybe that's what I've needed all along. Maybe instead of trying to be brave and not cry I need to just cry once in a while.
We had a good little talk, nothing heavy, I just told him how I had been feeling. How was he ever to know if I don't say anything and I keep the stiff upper lip going? (Guess the Brittish part of my ancestry comes out once in a while.)
Don't know how tonight will go, this it the 7th night; tomorrow he takes injection 2. It feels as if it has been months. Only 162 more days to go.
God help us.
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