Dealing with stuff.

So I've had some pretty rough weeks.
My mom had to go to the hospital to get her vocal chords checked and was scheduled for surgery on Friday, because they wanted to go down and take a biopsy because they were suspecting cancer.
The C-word alone freaked me out like nobody's business, maybe even more so because we lost my grandpa to cancer in November.
Then my brain decided to divide the fear; first the surgery and then the result.
My mom has a severe lung disease and we were once told that she cannot be put in anaesthesia because chances are she won't survive it.
I had work that weekend, so on Thursday, I told Illona about it and then cried. I knew I'd cry when I saw her because I just feel so comfortable around her that I don't mind her seeing me cry.
I told her that I wanted to be at the hospital but that I would be at work around dinner time or so and she just stared at me like I was absolutely ready to be institutionalized and then insisted that I took Friday off.
Our boss agreed and it was actually a relief; the knot in my stomach disappeared, even though the fear did not.
The doctor who was doing the surgery had told my mom that she had nothing to worry about, but apparently (she told me this later) she wasn't even afraid of the surgery because she was certain that she would not wake up again.
Of course, we all had the same fear and when I was getting into the car to go to the hospital, my step dad called my cell and freaked me the fuck out, because I was afraid that he was going to tell me that she had died.
Thankfully, he was just calling to say that she was in the OR, already.

She survived the anaesthesia, but wasn't allowed to speak for 10 days which, to my surprise, she was actually really good at.
She used her cell to write us and later, their laptop which has a program that enables it to speak out loud; that was kinda cool.
If I'm honest, I never believed that it was cancer, because the doctor said they had found 'some white spots' and took a bite of that, but that everything else was completely normal.
For some reason, I didn't believe that white spots was cancer because you have white spots if you have a yeast infection in your mouth and whatnot.
But being the pessimist that I am, I didn't dare voicing or even believing my gut feeling that said 'not cancer', so I was freaking out from Friday until Wednesday before Easter, where they would get the results.
I was spamming my Twitter, while I was waiting for the result and when I finally got that text that it was good news, I didn't really know what to do with myself so I sat in our kitchen and just...laughed. I laughed, yes.

Now, however, my mom is in the hospital with a massive pneumonia. It seems like we can't catch a fucking break, man.
I mean, we're used to pneumonia and I much prefer that to cancer, but it's just a lot and it feels like we can't even catch our breaths before we get something else thrown in our faces. It's been like this since...June, last year, where my grandpa was first hospitalized.

Unfortunately, all of this makes me overly sensitive and things that have not mattered before, is suddenly a big deal.
I get annoyed with Nat for no reason, at all and even though I know that some of it is actually the age-difference, I just keep my mouth shut for fear of going absolutely crazy and yelling at her.
It's far from being fair and this is why I just shut up because she's her and I'm me and we should not change that, no matter what, but it doesn't mean that it's something that needs to be talked about because it's just me being sensitive and weird and her being who she is and it can't really be changed and shouldn't, either.
I've started talking to this guy, Søren and he actually seems like a normal, sweet guy and I love testing/Twittering with him.
Of course, he annoys me too, sometimes but what's worst is that he seems to be scared that I'll get angry with him, if he doesn't agree with me or whatever and I just want to shake him, man.
Friend or more...doesn't matter, we don't have to agree on everything because that'd be fucking boring, man. What pissed me off, was when he said we should never talk about religion or Linkin Park, anymore. I flipped out, man.
I had so many subjects I couldn't talk to my ex about because we'd rip each other's heads off and I hated that.
Now, I'm 10 years older and have realized that being in a relationship doesn't mean that you have to agree on every tiny thing and just because you disagree, doesn't mean that you can't be together.
But seriously, I know he doesn't know me all that well, yet...but asking me to never talk about the band that I love more than anything? Not gonna happen, dude.
The three tattoos I have, relating to them, should tell him that they're a big deal in my life and if any guy wants to be with me, they have to be able to accept that.
Yes, I'll keep the fangirling to the web, but I'm definitely talking about them. Shit, I even talk about them to my parents and they could not care less.
I know, he has his reasons for reacting like that, but he has to realize that just because we have heated debates or even arguments, doesn't mean that I'll start hating him from one minute to the next.
And he doesn't really approach me, if I tweet complaints or whatever and I know it's because he's got no clue as to how I'll react, but I've told him to just ask and the worst answer he can get is 'none of your business' or 'I don't wanna talk about it', so I'm hoping that he'll do that more.

That's all folks.