I feel lost without you.

Today’s writing 101 prompt is to write about a loss. While it also said it doesn’t have to be a sad post, this will be. So, I’ll take this opportunity to apologise in advance.

We’ll start at the beginning. My Nan was due to have an operation on her hip but, her blood tests made the doctors postpone the operation and sent her for more bloods. Her white blood cells were dropping, fast. In the end, they decided on a bone marrow biopsy. The results? Leukemia. 

I remember finding out like it was yesterday. I was about to go to the gym for my weekly kickfit session. I broke. I sank down the side of my bed and just cried. The gym was welcome – it was punchbag time!

We were all reassured that they’d caught it at the beginning, that an intense round of chemo would sort it, make it go away. I believed them. For some reason, I trusted them. I’d just started to get close to my Nan, I was training to be a nurse, following in her early career footsteps (she gave up nursing and did 100 other things), we were talking all the time. For the first time in my life, I really felt as though I had her in my life.

Then, after we’d thrown her a surprise party for her and Granddads 25th wedding anniversary, she went back into hospital for more treatment – it would be okay, she said. She was okay, she said. Then the phonecall. There was nothing left they could do. Chemo would give her more time, but she just wasn’t responding the way they’d hoped. We’d even got a bone marrow donor ready for when she was well enough!  She refused the extra chemo. She wanted to enjoy what time she had left. 6 months they said.

For weeks, her levels didn’t change. She was okay. She was travelling around the country – they went to Scotland and back. She was seeing her friends, seeing her family. Then all of a sudden, she was in pain. A lot of pain. She was bruising easily. She told me on the Monday when she had an appointment with her consultant that they’ve stopped everything but her pain medication. That Friday, I lost my Nan. I lost Nanny. And I remember being told. I remember what I was eating, what I said to my Granddad, what I did straight after. I’ll never forget that day.

Saying goodbye to Nanny was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. She lay open until the funeral, I went to see her. I sat with her, told her I’d look after everyone. I told her that I loved her. But in truth, I haven’t said goodbye. I don’t think I ever will.

I’ve never, ever felt pain like losing my Nan. I miss her every single day.

I mean it when I say this. Treasure every second you have with your loved ones. I held too much anger for too long and I have to live with that regret forever.

C.x