Consider yourself warned

OK, I should never post in the morning. Wait -- no I should post whenever I post because it's what I'm feeling at that moment (and I never know what's going to come on the page when I sit down). Mornings are horrible. Absolutely, positively dark and sad. And the earlier, the sadder (I wish I could say that no other time of the day is that bad, but I never know). So, you should always look at the very end of each post to see what time I made it. Then decide whether you want to read it or not. You've been warned.
In other news, yes, I went to the doctor yesterday. And, for the first time in my life, I am "medicated" (how's that for open and honest?). I'm sure many of you are thinking I should've done this years ago. Whatever.
Anyway, it's not my doctor's practice to mix grieving and medication (evidently a high percentage of people never get off). So she wasn't heading down that road. Then she asked more probing questions and decided rather quickly that she was, indeed, going to medicate. I was somewhat surprised that she didn't make me swallow a pill right in front of her.
I know that many, if not most, of you are breathing a sigh of relief. So am I (even though she said I probably won't be able to "emote" as well, so sorry to all you blog readers). I was afraid that soon I wouldn't be sane enough to know that the thoughts in my head were scary.
But I am also sad. This would've broken Jim's heart. Not because I needed to take something but because it was needed because of anything that had to do with him.
The girls and I went to a movie today. It was a "normal" activity and it felt good. So, yay for that.
And now, I have to burden you with yet another prayer request. And this one is, again, quite large.
The kids are going to start genetic testing this week. There's a huge chance that what Jim died from is hereditary. So there is another road ahead. Of course my prayer is that it's not. That it was just a freaky, rare (which it was) once-in-my-lifetime experience and that this is not something that's going to hang over their heads for the rest of their lives. I can't trust that my prayer will be answered so please pray hard for me.
However I do realize that, if it is herediatry, and it can be watched and controlled for the next 80 plus years, then Jim saved his children's lives. And maybe his siblings' and/or their children's.
And he would've volunteered to do that in a heartbeat.
But my children are grieving their father.  And now they are scared that they may have the same thing happen to them.  It's all such a huge unknown.
All I can do is support them as best I can, and tell them that if this is, indeed, something they have inherited, then their father saved their lives.
Somehow .... those words ring hollow.
They need him.  They miss him.
Just as I do.  Differently, yes.  But just as intensely.