Hearing Bren’s voice again and seeing that face was magical, a soothing soul balm that was very much needed as we negotiate a world he wouldn’t recognise.
When synchronicities happen I think Bren is listening and most likely agrees. TodayI’m sure of it.
Standing in the shower, I let the hot jets of steaming water wash over me. I could hear Bren playing his guitar from where he was sitting at the foot of our bed.
Mood swings are among the side effects of his medication. And although they aren’t that noticeable to us — he is struggling with them
“OK you get to keep your arm this time!” Reg says, smiling cheekily.
Taya finds us and speed walks us to the cancer hospital for a CT scan. We find out later that Bren shouldn’t be walking anywhere without crutches.
The last thing you want to hear your husband say to the doctor on the other end of the phone when getting his biopsy results is “fuck!”
My body aches, my head aches, my heart aches. I can be moody and not much fun to be around. This all feels involuntary.
Thank you for the messages — and for reading along with us. Increasing awareness of Sarcoma, a rare cancer, through telling his story and our families was important to Bren.
Every other day, after the biopsy, I felt like I was having a silent meltdown — privately, inside my head.