Friday, July 13, 2007

Surgery Day - Part Two

Part One can be found here.

Part Two

I remember stepping back into the elevator and looking at my husband as the doors closed. I remember practically running down the halls, glancing at the room numbers trying so desperately to get to my mother. I know I passed the nurses station, and then I was in her room. I went to the other side of her bed, the side with the window. My sister was sitting at the end of the bed, hold mother’s hand and talking to her. Mother was somewhat in & out of it, but was coming around pretty strong. She had IV’s coming out her hand and tubes going in & out of her nose. She still had the blue cap covering her hair and she was so pale. The machines were making a whirling sound as they made sure the right fluids were being taken in and out of her body and a certain rate. My aunt was standing at the head of the bed stroking Mother’s right arm and talking softly. I remember thinking that Mother would be getting aggravated pretty darn soon as she didn’t have her hearing aids in and could make out what the aunt was saying.

I remember leaning over and kissing Mother’s forehead. I remember her grabbing my wrist and looking me in the eye as I straightened back up. And I will never forget her looking me in the eye and asking me how long. How long does she have to live? Everything went silent in my head and I noticed nothing but her eyes and the feel of her hand in mine as I told my Mother without treatment three to six months, with treatment about 11 months. I remember the look of utter horror washing over her face and the tears that seeped out of her eyes to fall down her cheeks. I remember kissing her head, over and over, telling her that we were going to make the most of every minute we had. I remember praying to God, shouting out in my soul to please give her as much time as He could. I remember hearing her whisper, No, no, no. And then the calm. The calm that came over me as I told my Mother that only God knows how long we walk this earth. Only God can tell us and He’s not sent us his calendar yet. That she was going to have to fight. Fight to get out of that hospital room, fight the cancer with treatments because I was not ready to let her go yet.

I spent that night in the hospital with Mother, getting her ice chips, watching the nurses come in to check her vitals and listening to those whirling machine noises. But mostly, I spent that night praying. Talking to God and trying to listen. I also thanked Him for giving my Mother for so many years. Asking for many more years. And I asked Him to not let her suffer. That when the time comes, be it a month, or years, to take her gently, peacefully into His arms.

Note: Mother is back home from the hospital stay no. 3. She's just got a small infection & is on antibiotics for the next week. She's in good shape and looking great!

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