I love the people (especially the husband I was lucky enough to pin down in Aus) and I love their hospitality and I’ve always wanted to live here.
But when you go there urgently, because your daughter is critically ill, things aren’t nearly as rosy. You don’t get to enjoy anything when you spend 14 plus hours a day at the hospital.
It’s so cold and I’m so tired and snow fucking sucks when its a blizzard you have to walk through 2 – 4 times a day in the dark, trying desperately not to slip on the ice that you can’t even see.
And it is my beautiful 26 year old daughter, who currently looks like living (but it wasn’t a given for way too many days), but isn’t really convinced she wants to, given the circumstances, and her attitude alone might influence things one way or another and quite frankly, I wouldn’t blame her for opting out.
And my husband is a half a world away and I don’t get to talk to him much and I don’t know his family well enough to lean on them emotionally, no matter how great they have been in terms of practical support.
And people keep telling me that I’m tough and I’ll get through this and I get the definite impression that some of my family members think I am exaggerating things for dramatic effect. I cry myself to sleep most nights.
And the worst thing of all?
I did this to my daughter. My defective genes caused this. I caused my so beloved child to suffer this much. I am the reason she is so ill, that she has suffered so much.
And I’m here, helping her endure pain-filled awful days, trying to encourage her and doing every nursing task they will let me, so that she doesn’t have the indignity of strangers doing those humiliating things; hating every day so much.
I caused this.
I don’t think I’ll ever want to come to Canada again.