You know things are bad when flowers arrive.
After the diagnosis is confirmed bunches of flowers arrive at the door.
More than when my babies were born.
Busy couriers come and go to the door, parcels, cards, letters, hampers and gifts pile up.
Chocolate arrives regularly, but I have no appetite.
My weight dips back to my pre-babies’ weight, finally, and my health tracker cheers “congratulations you’ve reached your goal weight!”
What a way to do it.