I’ve been a bit of a grump the past couple of days. I think it’s because our trip home is now only a week away. And whilst I know that should excite me, and it does, and remains one of my gratefuls, it still unnerves me. As it does every year. Because of what it holds. It means I can’t so effectively play avoidance anymore. I can’t pretend I am not fearful of what my doctors might find. I can’t pretend I’m not hopeful that they might tell me all is clear, and no further treatment required. And to be honest, I think that scares me the most of all, no, not the most, but a lot. Because then I will be on my own. Thinking about the possibility of not having someone there checking me all the time feels a little scary. No medication, no implants, no blood tests, no CT scans, no ultrasounds, no three monthly examinations and chats. I know I should be yahoo at the prospect, and I probably will be, eventually. But right now I feel unnerved. And a bit of a fraud too, because I like to believe it’s all up to me, that I am on the right path now. But suddenly, I’m feeling a lot less certain.