4 May 2011

 Dear Diary:

A lot has happened since I last "spoke" to you. I passed Matric, attempted a course at Intec College, my hamster died of old age, I was *diagnosed with Aspergers Syndrome, had two jobs which I absolutely hated, became depressed because I felt that everyone would be better off if I simply didn't exist. 

Then I met a wonderful man in Cape Town who told me he would be the saddest person, in the world, if I died because he loves me (we eventually fell inlove.) On February 7 2009, we became engaged. He suprised me by showing up at my front door that night. It was a Friday. On April 25 I moved to Cape Town. We were finally going to be together! 

Around about August/ September, he got "swine flu" and had to have an operation to have a growth removed from his back (skin cancer.) Then the "fun" really started! It was 3 months of non-stop suffering, his physical and mine mental. I watched him get weaker and weaker and there was NOTHING I could do about it at all because the "Doctors" didn't do there jobs. When you are taking anti-biotics, you have to take a multi-vitamin with it. Don't they know that. But I suppose they think they know everything! He eventually survived 😁. 

Then on 18 April 2010 at about 1-4 pm 🕐🕓 the cancer moved to his brain and he couldn't move his right leg anymore. We thought it would get better. The next morning it was worse, so we went to the hospital. The doctor told us that it was nearly the end (stage 4 cancer, there is no stage 5) and they can get him physio in 3 months time!!! We came back home and Shawn got worse by the day. On 23 April in the morning, he woke me up and told me that I needed to get him some medicine because he couldn't breathe. I tried to move him by myself, but I couldn't. I asked my neighbour to help me. He phoned the police 🚓, who phoned the hospital 🏥 who sent an ambulance 🚑 to our little flat again. We went to the hospital, the doctor there told me that he got bronchitis and gave him some medicine. Then he sent us back to Karl Bremer hospital (where Shawn had the operation). We got there, were put into the emergency ward and the nice (I really mean that) doctor explained to me what was happening. After a few hours of watching Shawn suffer, I couldn't take it anymore so I left. 

Just after I got back to our little flat, I got the worst phone call of my entire life. The nurse told me to go there immediately and she couldn't tell me why. I was hoping that he was asking for me. I asked my other neighbour to take me.

Shawn died at about 11:20 am. It felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. 💔 I don't think I have ever cried that hard in my life.

I WANT HIM BACK!

My mom phoned a few hours later and I told her the story. My dad came two days later to see me. I had no expression in my voice, no matter how hard I tried. We went to Spur for supper because he had been driving all day and was very hungry. That night I dreamt about him (Shawn). He told me he couldn't go on anymore. The next day, and for the next few days, we were clearing out the flat. It felt horrible feeling like I was throwing away someone's life. That Wednesday we went to see Shawn again, at the funeral parlour. Most of Shawn's family was there. His father wasn't. Shawn said that would happen. The next day, we came back to the Eastern Cape and that is where I am now. Two weeks after I came back, my mom asked me if I'd found a job yet. I told her that my world had just falled apart, so finding a job was at the bottom of my list. That's pretty much the story.

*Me from the future here: I was diagnosed after all of this happened.