a day I won't soon forget

It was this day last year that we had a birthday party for my brother(#4) in my mom's hospital room. She spent the weekend there undergoing a battery of tests in preparation for her biopsy. She was more upset about ruining #4's 21st birthday than anything else that was going on. We made the best of it and brought a cake. We even lit candles and sang, after bribing the nurses with the promise that we wouldn't set off the alarms, and a piece of cake. Mom was afraid the grandkids would be freaked out because they had shaven small patches of hair all over her head and applied "markers". The markers were to help the surgeon determine the areas to be biopsied. I'm sure that my brother's day will never again be remembered without also stirring up thoughts of that day.
Last year, it was a Sunday. So, we went to church that morning. I stood through the time of worship with tears streaming down my face, trying not to break into sobs. It seemed that every song was about God's provision and healing. I wanted so badly to believe that He would provide the healing we prayed for. In the end, He did provide healing, but certainly not the one we prayed for.
May 1st was the biopsy. I promised Mom I'd be there. I barely slept, but woke up early to make the hour long drive downtown. I made it in 45 minutes, at rush hour. I still don't know how. When I got there, she was already in the surgery prep area. She was so happy to see me, but I could tell she was scared. Siblings 2,3 and 4 couldn't come, so it was just me and Dad until some family friends showed up. I resented them being there. I wanted those few minutes all to myself and I felt they were trespassing. We all prayed over her and held her hand until they came to take her. The surgeon said it would only take a little over an hour, but it was several before we were allowed to see her.
I was sitting there with my dad when the doctor came to tell us he was done. They wouldn't know for sure until the biopsy results were in, but it wasn't good. The tumor(s) could not be removed, it was growing quickly, untreated she wouldn't last more than a few weeks, the side effects of chemo and radiation were extensive. He was "so sorry" but there was nothing he could do but to recommend us to a good oncologist. I called work to tell them I wasn't coming in that night. My boss asked me if I wanted to go on leave to help my family deal with this news. I said "No, I'm sure we can work it out so that I can still work" Fast forward a few weeks and I was telling him I was leaving.
Ok, enough reliving for now.

Countdown to the end

Today is the anniversary of the day we found out my mom had a tumor. It's a day I will never forget. I still vividly remember her telling me. She was still in shock, and was very matter of fact. At that point we thought it was removable. Or we assumed "they" would just take it out. The week that followed was hectic and emotionally exhausting. The next day she was taken to the hospital only to be sent home after an MRI because all of the neurosurgeons in the area were at a conference! Then on the 28th she was taken back in for a weekend of testing which ended on May 1st with a biopsy. That was the day that I first heard the term anaplastic astrocytoma. Basically, a fast growing, inoperable, brain tumor.
Then began the race to find alternatives to shooting her with enough radiation to kill a horse.
So, as of today, it is 12 weeks until the anniversary of her death. I thought I'd be distraught today. I thought the enormity of this life changing day would way heavily on me. It hasn't. I have so many other things going on in my life, I barely have time to type this remembrance.
It was the first thing I thought of when I woke, though. So unlike last year. Mom and I were chatting when she got a call on the other line. When she clicked back to me she said "that was the doctor...I have a tumor". I reassured her that I was positive she'd be fine. We hung up the phone and I collapsed into sobs. I actually went to work after that, although I cried the entire way there and several times during my shift. Within a few weeks, I put in my request for a leave of absence. Well, the rest of the story can wait until those anniversaries are here.
It's amazing how much stuff happened in 12 weeks. It seemed so long and yet it flew by. So has this last year. Everything has changed. Very few areas of my life are the same. I cling to the status quo in a way I never did before.

15 to go

I've decided to continue this blog until the anniversary of my mom's death. Not too much longer. My dh has suggested I seek professional help in dealing with my grief. Apparently, I'm a bit "edgier" and more prone to nervous breakdowns(not literally) than before. I've considered it, even considered seeking out some meds to help. However, I've decided to wait until the year is up. I've given myself the full year to grieve and if I still can't cope, then I'll try something else.
I think part of the problem is that I'm not the same person I was before. For better and for worse. A lot has happened, it's impossible to not change. I'm not as happy as I used to be. If it's possible, I'm more pessimistic. I do appreciate the good things more now.
My good friend just had a dear friend of hers die. We was 35. Way too young. He left behind two babies and a wife. I can't imagine her pain. As much loss as I've experienced this year...that I cannot fathom. So, I appreciate what I have a little more. I think that's something that death really tries to teach us. Appreciate who you have now, because they won't be here forever. Too often I treat the people I love the most like there is always more time. More time to be a little nicer, to apologize, to hug and kiss them. "There are no guarantees", Death says. When are we going to really listen?