The Mom Update

I talked to Mom this morning. She's home from the hospital, and feeling awfully weak. Tired, too. (A hospital is the LAST place in the world where you can get any rest -- especially if your room is right across from the nurse's station, which apparently hers was. Terrific.)

My cousin "D" from Boston should be arriving right about now to take care of her for the next week. Since he's been out of work for a while and has a teenaged daughter at home, he's considering this a blessing.

I'm relieved on one hand that she's got someone who'll sit on her when she tries to do too much. (And, knowing her, she will.) On the other hand, I am more than a wee bit pissed.

Why, you ask? When my dad was diagnosed with leukemia, my sister and brother flew down to Florida immediately. My mom asked me to hold off, as she figured she'd need me later. Keith took a couple of weeks off to be with them. Heidi took family medical leave time to be with them. It was eight weeks before I finally got my turn. And I had to sit on my thumb, hold my tongue, worry like Hell in the meantime. Worse, I had been alone for a long time and didn't have anyone at home to let off steam with. Let me tell you, that's an empty, lonely, awful feeling. Both Keith and Heidi have spouses to go home to and commisserate with. It was a relief when Mom and Dad finally came back to Illinois and Dad had hospice care at home. At least then I could go out to the 'burbs every night after work, and hold his hand through the night.

This time around, Heidi is up to her neck in end of year stuff at work, and Keith is tied down until the last snow flies, as his winter business is plowing. I told Mom that I have both vacation time and family medical leave time available, my bosses are more than sympathetic, and I was ready, willing and more than able to fly down at the drop of a hat.

Nope. Somebody else gets to go. AGAIN.

Mom's reasoning? My vacation time is "precious" to me. If that isn't bullshit, I don't know what is, and I told her so in no uncertain terms. She's my mother, she has inopperable lung cancer, and no one and nothing on the planet is more precious to me than her right now. She changed my diapers, wiped my snotty nose, tanned my backside when I needed it, protected me like a tiger, and raised me to be a loving, responsible adult. She's still trying to protect me from seeing the ugliness in life... instead of letting me be that loving, responsible adult.

Dammit to Hell, I am royally pissed at the moment. Thank God that I've finally got a great guy like Buckaroo Bonsai in my life right now. Otherwise, I'd be in a real fury and pitching furniture out the second floor window.

Okay. End of pity party. I'm going to put on my happy face again, and be thankful that she's home and getting a little stronger every day. (It's a good thing, as I'm probably going to strangle her when she's strong enough to have a conversation about this. And we will, too.)

Keep those prayers coming. Mom's going to need them.
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Also remember Miss Elva, who is coming to the end of her race. And say a prayer for Rob and the rest of his family. I know they appreciate it, too.
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