It’s funny how I came up with this long, insightful entry on the bus home the other day which you guys will get to read in the next few days. I felt happy with life. Content. Everything was going well.

It’s because I walled up everything else so well I even forgot that there is a wall.

Last night after a few trigger events, like the Berlin Wall, my emotional guard came tumbling down, and took with it my immune systems.

So, here I am. Sick and overwhelmed.

Some of you may have noticed that I have not talked about my mom much around here since I have returned from Thailand in August. Out of respect, perhaps. But mainly I wasn’t ready to see my mom in that light. The light that I realized I must face.

I probably won’t get to have my mom through 2007.

I had mentioned in past posts that the doctors were starting my mom on some kind of mild oral chemo, costing $65 a pill a day. It is NOT a cure, but a way to extend her life. So far, with my dad’s retirement plan as a former tenured professor of public university has covered the cost.

Now, with the new government realizing that they are flat broke after years of corruption, they are changing up the retirement plan and ruling certain write-offs out. You guess it. The $65 a day is on that list. The doctors are making an appeal to keep us subsidized for mom’s treatment.

It comes down to this.

If the drug works but we can’t write it off, we can’t afford to keep going. Same fate as if the drug doesn’t work. We won’t know until they could get her into a body scan.

Either way, it seems that last blink of hope is being snuffed out as we speak.

“My mom is not going to make it,” came out of my mouth for the first time ever a few weeks ago. I can’t believe I’m thinking it let alone saying it out loud many times last week.

I can’t believe I actually admit it. And I’m so utterly disgusted with myself for that.

And I walled up my rage, guilt, disappointment, anguish, sorrow and all other emotions with layers of sarcasm and small bricks of anger. Then I painted on a nice coat of Sunshine and Smiles. Everything is okay. Everything is fine.

Work has been super busy so that helped keeping up the wall as well. I’ve done it for so long and keeping up the front of the strong and jolly OakMonster that, like I said, a few days ago I actually feel happy. Truly happy. Until I realize I was putting up a front of happy.

Just like when I ice skated. I would be skating just fine until the moment I thought, “How do 2 skinny blades hold me up like this?” Then I’d take a tumble. The moment I question my happiness, I suddenly remember what is going on in the back room.

And then I crashed. Emotionally as well as physically.

And here you have a shell and a mess of the OakMonster, not knowing what to do or how to feel. There is the stuffy nose and I feel energy drains right out of me every few hours. And I don’t even know how to interact with people! Hence I stayed home today instead of being in the office. (Sorry, Demi Boss and Lady Boss. I just can’t handle it today.)

I want to call home for some news, but I’m afraid. I don’t think I could handle it at this point.

I don’t want to put up a happy front. Hell, ANY front. I just want to curl up with my emotions. Let them roam free for a day.

All day I have been trying to rebuild, putting one foot in front of the other, focusing on one step at a time. Brandon took a day off to support me–bless his heart.

I’m sure I’ll feel much better after I fry up the chicken and have dinner and watch some TV with Brandon. A bit of normal sets me in the right healing path, I hope.