It was Christmas Eve day. The night before I had gotten a call from Mom: She had gone to get a scope done earlier that day to check out her bowels and stomach. I'm not even sure what prompted the tests in the first place. It didn't take them long to get the results back to her though, they called her a few hours later. They thought it was bowel cancer, and she was going to need surgery.
In these situations, I always picture the worst. My mom dying, leaving me with no parents. It's crazy to think about. One minute you've got both of them, and the next, they're gone. Just like that. And it's just you.
Mom didn't want to talk about it, and I guess I don't really blame her. See, when bad things happen in our family, my mom just pretends everything is ok. I think it's her way of dealing with things. We talked for a minute about it over the phone, and that was it. It wasn't brought up again.
A week or so later they set up the date for her operation. It was scheduled for late January. They were going to take out half of her bowel, she was going to be in the hospital for 2 weeks or so.
My mother was really only worried about one thing; would she have to have a bag, or would her bowels still work? She wasn't worried about the thought of dying, or anything else. Just that. They assured her that she wouldn't need one. The other half of her bowel would be enough.
For the next week or so, we did't talk much about the operation, except to make the arrangements. Who would take care of the dog and the cat while she was in the hospital? Who would go stoke the fireplace for her once she got out, since she couldn't do any heavy lifting? What about the housework?
And still we didn't really talk about it. I pretended. She pretended. My brother pretended. It's a game we all play. A very unhealthy one, but a familiar one to us in our family, none-the-same. We played that game a lot when dad was dying. And when i look back at it all now, i regret it so much. Because with that game, you never say how you really feel, and what you're really thinking. Everything you say is trivial, while everything you think is exactly what you regret not saying later...
This is my mom's second bout of cancer. A few years ago, she had a rare cancer in her breast. Not breast cancer, but something else. I'm not sure what it was called. They removed half of her left breast, and she recovered.
My mom is a very strong lady. I know she makes me angry sometimes, but she's one of the strongest women I know. And with everything she's been through, I'm glad she is the way she is. It takes a lot of strength to go through all this. I'm proud of my mom. And I hope I can be half as strong as her someday.
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