My mother was going back into the hospital. Her Cancer has come back. I was in Chicago the first time my mother got sick. She told me to not to bother flying back, that everything that could be done was being done. It was a waiting game. I felt so helpless.
It’s different this time. She’s not showing symptoms. She’s not ill. Her Cancer Indicators are rising, and a scan has revealed a tumor, or something in her abdomen. This procedure is to head the Cancer off at the pass. Go in, take a look around for other signs of the disease, remove the tumor, and get ready for some serious chemo. She’s been cancer free for several years now.
The operation took a good part of the day. We camped out in the waiting room; trying to read our books, listen to music, watch a little TV. Anything to keep our thoughts off of the ticking clock. The day crept by.
The surgery went well. The tumor was removed, and sent away for testing. There didn’t appear to be other signs of Cancer. Her doctor felt really good about the outcome. We all shook his hand and thanked him very much. Then I went outside to call my brothers and give them an update.
*An interesting side note here is that my mother is being treated at Walter Reed. It’s a military hospital here in D.C. and apparently it is where many wounded soldiers get sent when they come home from Iraq. I saw at least ten wounded soldiers during the course of the day. Now I watch the news, and I hear the reports of roadside bombs, wounded soldiers, etc,, but seeing those soldiers walking through the halls of the hospital on prosthetic legs, or in wheelchairs acutely aware of their newly amputated limbs puts it all in a different light.
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