The Return to Work...

I have spent the last few days dreading this morning. 

I was worried about it all weekend.

I went back to work.

The last time I cycled to work it was raining cats and dogs. 

Today was no different. 

I got drenched.

The waterworks did not stop upon reaching the office. 

As soon as I saw my Boss, my wonderful, amazingly understanding Boss, I cried. 

He let me get on with it. 

He sat with me. 

He waited. 

He understood.

I pretty much cried most of the day on and off.

Working in a hospital has, in the past, been a joy and I have really enjoyed my job. Today, all it did was remind me of being in Germany with John and my daily visits to the Critical Care Unit. Indeed, I walked into our CCU to speak with a colleague without even thinking where I was. When I realised where I was I had to leave immediately, I felt sick to my stomach and started crying. 

All I could think of was 'John died in one of these'.

And so, as well as being particularly unhappy at home, I now bear the cross of working in a hospital that I am not happy in. 

I do not want to be there. At. All.

All it does is remind me of John's illness and his ultimate demise. Death's cloak wraps ever tighter around me and I feel as though I am suffocating in it. I had to fight for breath a number of times today for fear of standing there and sobbing.

My colleagues have all been wonderful, welcoming me back with hugs and 'the right words' but without being overly emotional, as requested by yours truly. They're a bloody good bunch!!!

Being at work did not 'take my mind off it' as some thought it might, it's only focused my mind further, what with being in a hospital every frigging day!

Nearly every weekday at lunch time I would go out for a walk, a breath of fresh air. I'd call John and we'd have a chat, compare our days. 

Today was no different. 

I called his office. 

He did not answer, his fantastic PA Jackie did. 

We had a cry.

We had a chat and I was talking about my non acceptance of John's death. Because he went away working abroad that's how it feels to me, he's away, working, which indeed he was. I don't know if I will ever accept that he is dead. 

I look for him everywhere I go, a glimpse, a sighting....he has got to be here somewhere. 

I just have to find him and bring him home. 

I still want to go and check the hospital in Bremen...just in case...

His white wine is chilled and waiting.

As a special 'I missed you Dad' welcome home, Max decided that he would have a smelly pile of poo waiting for me in the hallway....!!!!!

Now, where's that phone number for Battersea Dogs Home?