Comfort and Compassion

I'm so glad she's my GP.

After feeling like she didn't understand how much things had affected my before christmas, today I just felt that harsh and firm attitude had gone.  After telling her about the family arguments over christmas and how I was defending by all except the one who doesn't think before he speaks and doesn't care how he make others feel, as i sat with the tears rolling yet again, i'm sure there was a term of endearment used as she told be where the tissues were.  It's something i don't think i've ever heard from her before.

Its not just my family that i feel i have to make things up to, but there are a few professionals too and as she's been my GP for the past 8 years and saved my life literally by coming out to me or seeing me when i had jeopardised my life, not always meaning to at times, I feel i owe her a lot too.

She made me smile though the tears today though.

She said that it wasn't my fault that i came from "a wonky egg" and that it wasn't mum's either.

I do know that now, even if i do need reminding of it occasionally but as i responded to her, i find it hard feeling like i am still living a battle not a life. Do i really have to spend the rest of my life fighting rather than living?

She took my hand before I left.  It's a kind of a cross between a hand shake and that comforting holding of someone's hand.  It's the closest she'll ever (rightly) come to crossing that boundary.  But I know when she does take my hand that I've got it right somewhere and she's willing me to keep fighting.