Read The Choice for Free Online Page B

we needed for the house; people I had lost touch with; books I wanted to read but could not sit still long enough to get through the first chapters. And all the while I was cleaning, cleaning, cleaning.
I had never taken mind-altering drugs, but I supposed this was what it was like for people who take coke, speed or ecstasy. 60mg of prednisone daily and I was on an absolute high. It felt fantastic. Everything was beautiful to me, colours were brighter, people were more attractive. And my children! I thought they were the most gorgeous creatures ever to have walked the earth. Everything I saw, everything I heard, everything I sensed was loaded with a meaning at once overwhelmingly powerful, and at the same time impossible to convey to anybody else. I was in my own private kingdom. And perhaps above all, I was able to make a difference, to make whatever I wanted happen.
One weekend we went to visit Ger’s brother Paul and his wife Sharon. I was very excited and full of energy and conversation. I spent the whole time telling them how beautiful they were, how lovely the house was, and how much I loved them.
‘Bernie, you’re acting weird,’ whispered Ger, taking me to one side. ‘I know it seems normal to you, but remember these tablets you are on are making you behave a little differently.’
‘OK, OK, I’ll try not to say anything. But Ger,’ I whispered back conspiratorially, ‘don’t you feel that things are getting better? I’m not going to die after all. I’m going to get better, and I have the loveliest family anyone could have. I’m so happy I could burst.’
He took me home early.
Friends and family flocked to our house. I invited them all, and they were keen to come. They had heard that I had been sick and could not believe how happy I was and how well I looked. I spent all day in the kitchen cooking for large numbers of people, serving up huge meals and wolfing mine down before anyone else. I would splash wine into people’s glasses, not caring if it spilt. Even though I could not drink any myself while I was on medication I felt so high I might as well have been tipsy myself. It was the most wonderful feeling.
One day Emma brought a cake over. I gave it to the children after their tea and, as usual, most of it ended up on the floor. ‘Never mind!’ I said brightly. ‘I’ll clear it up.’ Instead of fetching the dustpan and brush, though, I thought it was a perfectly good idea to crawl under the table on my hands and knees picking up each and every crumb. It took some time. ‘You’ve gone stark raving mad,’ said my friend, trying to stop me. ‘Are you feeling OK? I thought you were meant to be ill.’
‘What are you talking about?’ I asked. ‘I couldn’t feel better.’
The next day I went to the garden centre with a very tall friend of mine, Helen. She bought two very heavy plants in large terracotta pots. I insisted on carrying them to the car. Again, she was horrified.
‘Listen Bernadette, I’ll do that. Don’t go making yourself sick again by lugging things like this around. At least let me take one.’
‘Don’t be silly, I’m fine. I need to carry on as normal, Helen. Don’t fuss.’ I grabbed the plants and staggered off. It must have looked comic, though, to anyone watching. Me, a diminutive five feet tall, dwarfed by these two huge plants, accompanied by Helen who towers above me by almost a foot.
Then one day I woke up and couldn’t move my arms.

Chapter Seven

 
… the Bad …

I couldn’t understand it – the previous day I had been fine. Now I simply couldn’t raise my arms. My elbows were stiff and unbending, agony when I tried to move them. Was I paralysed? No, I could move the rest of my body, although my legs hurt. Why had I suddenly seized up? Was this the lymphoma or was this another side effect of the steroids? No one had