I’ve declared my mother’s angelhood here before. I spent 5 or 6 days with her as she recovered from some procedures. Being in a hospital, remembering the anesthesia FUNK that just doesn’t seem to go away, just wanting to sleeeeeeeeeep…all of these things were so very familiar to me and yet so very far away, thankfully. I saw women with scarves on their heads. I saw children who were bald. I saw very caring personal care attendants, nurses and docs.
So the worst is over for this episode for me and us. What remains does not feel daunting right now. I have fleeting moments where I wonder if I’ll be around a year from now, whether cancer will be the cause of my death or not. I have many more moments where I am just in the moment and realize that that is all I have ever had, even before diagnosis.Â
While I was away with Mom, my family got along fine without me. When I returned, it was a particularly busy day with more family and sport obligations than we had parents in the house, and so I was greatful to have been able to return when I did.Â
I am happy to say that Mom is well. She was forever commenting on how much darker she thought my hair was. So many of the ladies who live in the same apartment as Mom commented on how lucky I was to have such curls. Another said that she thought it was a wig. It was great to see my mother among her own support group. Her independence is very important to her partially because she does not want to burden her children, partly because it enables her to function at her very highest. When I was not there she rested well after the hospitalization. When I was there she felt obligated to have at least one eye open and pushed herself too far too soon. When I went away and left her to her own devices, she napped and went to an activity and even asked a friend to the gameroom for a round of her favorite game. Like me, she has so much incredible support. These women who are survivors of their long lives, widowed, making a go of it with new ‘housemates’ and doing such a wonderful job of it. I was reminded of all the support we have received this past year, and the lingering tenderness that has entered our relationships.Â
Cancer is not the subject of most of my conversations any longer. Every once in a while the inflection in someone’s voice when they ask “how ARE you?” tells me that they want to hear an update on the trail we’ve been on. I’ve just recently been entertaining thoughts about the upcoming CT scan, which I don’t even think is scheduled yet…due sometime at the end of this month. I don’t want to know that there are cancer cells in my body. I do want to know that none are detected. I do know that these tests are not conclusive.Â
I am just taking one day at a time (as cliche as that sounds). Today is a most beautiful day. Clear, cool, and sunny. A good day for a walk with D, a hike with S, cleaning out my garden and stacking wood with my partner and kids this afternoon. My conversation with Mom last night found her with increasing energy, humor and love. What could be more nourishing? Time with loved ones, time outside, humor and a mother’s love. Mmm, mmm, GOOD.
I remember when our sister-in-law went through a similar cancer experience and how her spouse, R#3, said that the experience refocused him and the whole family on the basics. It sounds like you are feeling something like that now. No doubt you would rather not have had to deal with it, but finding the positives is undoubtedly the optimum path. And I like the way you reason your way to your conclusions. I guess they aren’t automatic conclusions even for GO’s.
where I am just in the moment and realize that that is all I have ever had, even before diagnosis.
Wow, Patty, you’ve done it again with your words. I cut and pasted this sentence of gold from your blog as you can see. You never stop amazing me, nor does Aunt Ann she is a powerhouse.