When disaster struck again in our family, one of my major concerns were my children. I wanted them to digest all the news emotionally, but I knew that I (the cause) was the wrong person to help them. So my husband took them to see a psychologist. The result was quite surprising.
Coping was difficult though, especially when I went back to the grindstone after our holiday. As much as the trip had been a preparation for the practicalities of my future life as a chronic disease patient, it had been an escape. I was not only a cancer victim, I was also in the early stages of a pregnancy and I had no idea if I was going to be able to give birth to the baby. It was an intangible situation – I felt life and death were embracing me at the same time.