I have not been blogging to much here recently; I haven’t been doing too much of anything recently. I’ve been too worried. Here’s why:
My mom has cancer.
Earlier this month we got a telephone call at 5:30 am. Never a good thing, right? It was my parents calling to tell me that they’d found some suspicious “spots” in different places around her body – lungs, throat, chest – and the doctor was fairly certain they were cancer, though they’d need a biopsy to be sure.
So I waited for the biopsy. My mom went through the biopsy, and I waited for the results. The results? Inconclusive.
So we all waited for the next biopsy and the next results. They came back this morning.
If there’s any good news to be had, it’s that the only cancerous spot was on her lungs. The others were not of concern. Also, the cancer is fairly new and small.
And so now there’s more waiting. Waiting to find out the treatment plan. Waiting to know what tomorrow will bring. Waiting here because I can’t be there. Wishing I could be closer.
Sometimes the sacrifice of choosing a life that leads us so far away from loved ones is acutely felt.
I know she’s going to be okay. I’m sure treatment will not be easy, but she’s going to be okay in the end. Knowing that doesn’t make it feel much better. I feel useless and frustrated. I can’t even be in the same place as the rest of my family. I want to climb into bed for a day and stay there. Instead of been staying as busy as possible. Busy means no time to think. Only now I can’t help but think about it, and I’m exhausted.
I know I can carry this weight, but I’ve got to get used to it for a little while.