10 December 2016 Over the past two weeks I have been going through the process of telling my colleagues and friends about my recent diagnosis and upcoming surgery. I decided that it is best to be completely open and honest about it and to reassure people that I will only be out of action temporarily, that I will be cured, and that I am feeling very positive about things. I have to say that while the process of telling my story has been somewhat draining, the wonderful expressions of support and love that I have had from everyone has been an incredibly uplifting and strengthening experience. I feel bad when people don’t know what to say, or say something stupid by accident – I realise that it’s a shock and it’s difficult to process. Several people have welled up with tears that they were clearly fighting to hold back as they didn’t want to upset me. It hasn’t upset me at all. All this support has had the effect of making me feel invincible. I have had offers of prayers, candles being lit for me in churches, joss sticks in temples, jokes to keep me amused, lovely candles to keep me calm, gifts of champagne to enjoy before my surgery, and many offers of help post surgery. I have been incredibly touched by the random texts, emails and What’s App messages from people wanted to check in and see how I’m doing. I feel like a bit of fraud, I think to myself. I’m doing fine. I’m feeling great. Nothing has changed other than the fact that I now have a piece of information that I didn’t have before. Annoyingly, the result is that I will have to have major surgery and be out of action for a while to deal with it, but I will cope and come April, things should get back to normal. In the meantime, I’m carrying on as usual but am trying to get everything in order before going to hospital. However, sitting at the kitchen table this morning alternating between the papers and social media, I suddenly burst into tears. I have no idea what brought it on, it just happened. It was like some sort of spontaneous combustion – I started sobbing for no reason at all. I had posted something on Facebook about Teddy being in Paris and singing with his school’s chapel choir at Notre-Dame tomorrow and I think the idea of not being there to hear him must have brought back some of my initial fears about missing out on my children’s lives. Emotions are a funny thing, as I have not consciously felt sad or scared at all for the past few weeks. Since meeting my surgeon, I have been very confident about being cured, and have felt nothing but strong and positive. I guess unconsciously there is a lot going on in my mind and it just had to work its way out. As no one else was home, I decided to go with it, and have a really good cry. I then put on some music and danced round the kitchen to ‘Shake It Off’.