I sat eating my breakfast waiting for mom to walk in the door so we could start cleaning. I thought, it must not be a good thing that her doctor appointment is taking so long. She called and it apparently went straight to voice mail. I tried to call her back but it went to her voice mail. I texted her and told her that I tried to call her back and to call me. The voice mail she left me, worried me slightly, mostly because she told me to call her back instead of just saying what she found out and that she would be here soon. She called me back quickly. Then she told me that it wasn't good, I held my breath, thinking it was pneumonia. Her cancer is back. I think I said a few, NO's! of denial before my heart began to bleed. Cold, shaking fear gripped me and I couldn't control myself. I cried. Mom tried to console me. She had to immediately drive to Orem and have a CT scan done. I told her I would come and meet her there but she insisted that I stay. We hung up and I paced the living room clutching my shirt and crying. Mom had told me to call someone and talk this through since she had to go. I called Melanie. It was so horrible to say out loud. We cried together. Mel said she would tell everyone and we decided that I would go meet mom anyway and be with her. I decided in that phone call that I would do literally EVERYTHING that was in my power to help her through this. I called Rick and he came home to take the girls so I could be with mom.
Steve and I met mom there and sat with her and encouraged her to drink the nasty contrast for her CT scan. Steve was such a comforting presence for me. When I found out that dad had been killed, Steve came over that day. I couldn't help but be so grateful for the peace I felt having him by my side to support mom in that moment! It was a nasty drink and mom was so weak and sick. She was shaking drinking it. I felt pieces of me dying inside imagining the journey ahead of her. Finally she was able to choke down the drink and they took her back for her scan. I called her oncologist to tell them we were going to miss the appointment and ask if they wanted us to reschedule. They knew her by name and said to come as soon as the scan was over and that they would have the results of the scan sent to them immediately. Dread formed in the pit of my stomach as two thoughts hit my mind: they know her by name and want her to come as soon as possible and they will have the results from the scan immediately. That never happens in the medical field. Immediately isn't a word you hear from medical professionals and especially not regarding diagnostic tests. I began to realize without knowing yet that mom's condition was not good. We went straight from the Orem hospital to the American Fork Hospital Cancer Center to meet with Dr. Breyer, the oncologist. As we sat in the room waiting for her to come give us some answers, I felt sick to my stomach. I felt like I wanted to bolt from the room and from my own skin.
If we could just go back in time. A day earlier, I was looking forward to a new year. It was going to be a great year full of promise and goal setting and moving forward. I had only a week earlier decided that I was in a healthy enough place with my grief for dad to begin the process of forgiving the person who had taken him. This was going to be a great year!
Dr. Breyer came in and as she flipped from page to page describing the numerous places that the cancer had spread to, my drained, stone cold heart full of nothing but fear, sunk. It was bad. REAL bad. Watching mom's demeanor at that point was devastating. I watched, as Dr. Breyer flipped each page, mom's shoulder's slump further and further. She seemed so small. How could this destructive monster be inside her ravaging her body without any of us knowing? How long had it been inside of her stealing her time with us? Dr. Breyer was operating under the assumption that her breast cancer from 7 years ago had relapsed even though the odds of that happening were 5%. They wanted a biopsy but needed to speak with the pathologist to decide where to take it from. They set it up for the following day. Again, that doesn't really happen in the medical arena. We left her office, I think, in shock, and we hugged and I begged mom to come home with me. I couldn't bear the thought of her being alone with all of this nor could I bear losing sight of her with everything we had just heard. I wanted her with me.
After we came home, I called Kathy, Valerie and Debbie just to hear their voices. It was difficult. Mom and I had some alone time that night to talk and we talked openly about how bad this was. She shared some feelings and experiences she had had over the holidays that truly broke my heart. She said she would fight but that she was ok if this was her time. That she felt like this might not end well for her and that the only part of it was how she knew it would destroy us, her kids. Hearing mom say she was ok to die is not something I know how to deal with emotionally. But she had just heard that her life was in danger and I knew she needed and deserved to talk about it no matter how hard it was for me to hear. And in the end, I think it helps me to be able to be open and hear her. These moments when we can talk honestly and openly are priceless to me. I get to hear her as a person...herself. And I feel like a friend she can confide in. And I hope I can help sustain her during this time, whatever it may bring, however much we have left.
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