Processing Day

I've just been running on auto pilot since Monday.  Yesterday, the batteries died.
 Well, to be more accurate, they were drained prematurely by the arrival of a court summons from Kyle.  He came to pick the girls up for his biweekly wedneday evening visit.
 Usually, he doesn't leave his car, usually he parks on the opposite side of the street.  Yesterday, he came swaggering across the street and up my sidewalk.  He was TOTALLY posturing at me the whole time he walked toward me.  Chest stuck out, shoulders back, grim expression on his face, chin thrust out.  *I work with aggressive kids, I recognize the signs*
 Faron must have seen it too because he moved me out of the way and strode out to meet Kyle in middle of our sidewalk.  Kyle looked as though he was going to feint left and go around Faron, then he must have thought better of it *part of me wishes he hadn't been smart in that moment because my visual of Faron's hand gripping Kyle's throat is very comforting right now*
Kyle was holding a sheaf of papers, which Faron relived him of.  The papers were a court summons to change custody and access particulars, to get a passport for each of the girls without my signature *he gives no reason for this application other than "I need passports to take them to Disneyland", which is really no reason to exclude me from this portion of decision making in their lives*.
I was so immediately furious with that man's gall, that I closed and locked the door with my dog still outside.
 I was so wrapped up in my fury that when Jaala ran back to the house before her dad drove away with her,  to tell me that I left Thyme outside, I realized that I responded to her with that fury still on my face.  I saw her face change and I think she thought I was directing it at her.  Then I blame him for causing trouble, once again.
 ....realizing of course that this position is not rational, that I am in charge of my own reactions.

 Not having told the girls yet, that I have cancer, when I feel edgy and teary, I feel like I have no excuse and that I'm going to scare them, that I'm going to appear unwell/unreliable emotionally to them. 
So I'm not yet really processing the impact of this.  I know the facts and figures.  I am apparently at stage 1, which is a good, good place to be cancer-wise. I know that if this cancer has not metastasized, the cure rate is excellent.  I know that I have a wonderfully talented, brilliant and dedicated surgeon who will pull out all the stops for me and I trust her implicitly.  Those are all great things.  My brain still wants to go to the "I better fucking not be in the 7% because I have babies who cannot be raised exculsively by the fuck stick, their futures will disintegrate.  So my current mantra is "I will not live in fear, I will not live in fear, I will not live in fear" all the while feeling the fear creeping up behind me.
It is so very distracting.
 I find myself mid conversation with someone and then realize I haven't heard a number of sentences and I'm completely lost.  I can't trace my thoughts back to where I lost track though.

 Faron said he' is just clinging to the statistics and believing that I am in the good section of the graphs.
I'm a really blessed girl to have such an amazing husband to walk with me through this.  He is so much my solid rock in everything.  

I'm just taking the day off today because I woke up with a headache and barfing, a feature of my life often, often, often, since I grew the tumor. I'm diagnosing myself with nerves, today.
I work with behaviourally challenged students, and I have to be "on" in order to be effective with them instead of just setting them off or triggering outbursts....I'm just not 'on' at all today.

 I didn't even get the girls ready for school.  I just laid on the couch, Jaala got up and saw me lying there, she said good morning with a beautiful smile and sat next to me, asked what was wrong and then brought me a glass of ginger ale and a plate with 3 crackers on it.  My sweet, amazing, kind hearted girl.  I love her.  She proceeded to tell me that I didn't need to worry about a thing, that she could totally take care of everything....."well except getting Leishabeth's clothes." and she did. 
She woke her sister, helped her sister make her lunch, and woke Faron up to drive them.  She is so beautiful.  Love her sooooo BIIIIG.
 Leisha offered me a hug and some chicken soup.  Little cutie.  She also told me jokes to make me feel better.  My OTHER kind hearted little one.  Such different personalities, such different ways of expressing care and concern.  I'm so very proud of both of them. 
 See what I mean about being blessed?  I have a lot of really great stuff in my life!  It was just my turn to be swung downhill from the shit again.