Thursday, April 12, 2012

April 12. Day 103. The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow

It was December 2004. I was in a jet in a holding pattern over London waiting to land. It was bleak, horrible London day raining and obviously cold.
As we circled high above the city I could clearly see the city's famous landmarks through the hideous London drizzle but I was in no mood for sight seeing. On my lap was my then six-year-old son passed out after having suffered a seizure half an hour earlier. Later he was diagnosed as having epilepsy but the first terrifying evidence was on that flight.
It seemed like forever before the flight arrived at the front of the queue at Heathrow and we were allowed to land and were greeted by an ambulance waiting on the ground. Through tears, I was screaming "just land this f***ing thing" to myself.
Bizarrely, one of my clearest memories of that wait was that the whole time a song from the musical Annie was playing in my head:
"The Sun will come out tomorrow so you gotta hang on till tomorrow, come what may. 
Tomorrow, tomorrow I love ya tomorrow. You're always a day away."
I'm pretty sure I'd never even seen Annie on stage at that point but now that song always takes me back to that very, very frightening moment. It was a song of hope that things would get better.
Like Annie, that story does have an happy ending. Eight years later and it appears Mr O may have outgrown his epilepsy and is currently being weaned off medication, touch wood, fingers crossed and all that.
And perhaps because of that I can now see Annie on stage without breaking out in a nervous sweat or feeling like vomiting.
So it is that Mr O and I were in the opening night audience of Annie in Brisbane tonight dressed, as the invitation demanded, in glamorous attire with a splash of red.
Those who don't think you can work with children and animals really should see Annie. It's a delight. And because we live in beautiful Brisbane there is every chance that the sun will, indeed, come out tomorrow. It's just that it's not always easy to believe that.


  1. That sounds like an incredibly traumatic experience. That last hour of the flight is tortuous on a good day so I can understand how horrendous it must have been. Glad he is in good health now.

  2. Far out Susan, I didn't realise that was how it all started. London's a bugger to land in on the best of days. Now I'm going to have that image in my head every time I hear Annie! Good news he might be clear though xo