Support

Went to brunch with my oldest girlfriend today. Twenty years now we've been friends. I told her, and she immediately volunteered to go with me. Her exact words were, "I'll pack an overnight bag and stay with you all weekend." She didn't even hesitate. 

I spoke with the father on the phone just before I met with her. He had looked into plane tickets to fly out here to be with me for the procedure, but they were fairly expensive at the last minute. I told him I could find someone else to go with me. He offered to come out in a few weeks to be with me for a bit. I think that's nice, and under ordinary circumstances I would kill for him to visit me - I visited him last, so now it's his turn. If he was offering to visit just because he wanted to see me, I'd be thrilled, but now I'm afraid he's just doing it because it's the "right" thing to do, out of some sense of obligation toward me. And that's the last thing I want. Empathy, yes. Support, yes. Pity? Never. 

What I want is for him to say that money is no object. That it's worth whatever cost for him to be with me when I go through this. That it's the least he could do under the circumstances. That he cares, in whatever way, for me. 

I suppose I'll have to take what I can get, and be grateful that my girlfriends, at least, are unfailingly supportive.

In other random news, I ordered the breakfast sandwich that was my standard during my first pregnancy - scrambled egg, cheddar cheese, and a sausage patty on a toasted english muffin. I made two of those puppies a day the whole time I was pregnant with my eldest. Ordered one this morning, and could barely get half of it down before the eggs made me queasy. It was such a disappointment to me - I had such fond memories of that damn sandwich.