Tonight  I wanted to write a post about human strength and positivity of mind.  I wanted to share a tale of support and love.  A tale of conquering the greatest challenges in life.  I wanted to share my inner thoughts to inspire and be uplifting.

Tonight I didn’t want to write about pain and sadness.  I didn’t want to sound weak and pathetic.  I didn’t want to disappoint.  But this blog is my journal. It is my way of dealing with my journey.  It is my way of dealing with my emotions.  And tonight all I have are my raw emotions.  All I have are my raw feelings.  All I have is my truth.

This is my truth.

Tonight I wept.  I wept like I have never wept before.  I wept in my Mum’s  arms as she cradled me.  She rocked me back and forth, holding me tight and soothing me with “it’s going to be ok” and “let it all out”.   She told me that it was ok to cry.  She told me it was ok to scream. She told me it was ok to let my mask down.

And I did.

I let my mask drop to the floor.  I let the tears flood out of me.  As the tears flowed I declared I couldn’t go on.  I declared I couldn’t take it anymore.  I couldn’t take the pain.  I was tired.  I sobbed that I was drained.  I sobbed that I didn’t remember what it was like to live without pain.  I sobbed about not being stronger.  I sobbed about not being better.

I sobbed.  I sobbed with my whole body.  I couldn’t stop.

I would love to lay here tonight giving out high fives celebrating our victory.  I’d love to praise myself and everyone around me for the strength we’ve displayed to get us through the past two days.  To get me through my first surgery.  But the truth is as I lay here in bed tonight I don’t even know if I am capable of expressing in words my feelings or thoughts of the past 48 hours.  It almost feels not real.  It almost feels like a bad bad dream.

But it is real.  It started at 6.40am yesterday when I gave my name and date of birth.  It continued at 12.30pm when I was wheeled into theatre and counted backwards under bright lights.  And it was still going tonight as I brushed my teeth and stared at a reflection of puffy eyes and pale skin.

Yesterday my surgeon and I decided to go ahead with part of the planned surgery and put a catheter in my neck.  We also decided that we wouldn’t go ahead with the tube in my stomach.  I was so relieved.  Instead we are going to work together and go back to the original plan of creating a super vein.

In twelve days I will go back to hospital and I will have my second surgery.  My second surgery will be on my right arm and we will cut it open to create my super vein.  My super vein will be my dialysis tool.

Tonight I am nursing my first surgery.  My new neck of tubes.  I haven’t looked at myself yet.  I haven’t examined my wound or my tubes wrapping around my collar bone and exiting my armpit.  I will need to soon.  But tonight I am going to take my pain killers and go to sleep.

This is my truth.