a week I never want to repeat

Have you ever had one of those weeks that, upon reflection, seems almost surreal, like you were there, but not really.

About a month ago, my Mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. She had undergone all of the preliminary tests prior to the Big Lebowski's arrival but chose to wait until after his birth to find out the results. Her doctors were cautiously optimistic with her diagnosis that the tumor was small and isolated...yet still, they confirmed unequivocally that the tumor was cancerous and would need to be removed as soon as possible.

Cancer, the word in itself creates such a kaleidoscope of emotions most of which are centered around fear and anxiety.

This past week my Mother went into surgery, in fact, both of my parents underwent surgeries. My Father had a large kidney stone removed while my Mother had a lumpectomy. I drove down to my hometown, Big Lebowski in tow, to lend support, provide taxi services and simply to be there to pace the hallways.

The hours were long, the Dude understandably had a few outbursts as did all of us, his were simply louder. I got over my fear of nursing in a public place and I also learnt that babies really do bring hope and joy in times of stress and sadness.

As of Friday, both of my parents were released from the hospital (with my Mother to return on Saturday for the day due to an allergic reaction) and the Dude and I arrived home by supper time, emotionally spent and a little frayed around the edges.

We spent hour upon hour waiting for not one but two different people to go through surgery, recovery and then to be transfered to a bed. We walked the hallways sometimes out of boredom, out of desperation (to induce sleep for the Dude) and sometimes out of anxiety. Every time I started to descend into a dark place however, I caught glimpses of people and families, who were facing extreme adversity and sickness. My heart ached for the couple who spent 4 hours outside of the Labor and Delivery ward crying and holding one another and I simply wanted to hug the tall lanky unshaven guy with bloodshot eyes, about my age, who diligently went for hourly smoke breaks for all 3 days I was around...and there were so, SO many more. Those walks somehow got my mind off of things and, more importantly, provided some much needed perspective.

As anticipated, my body has now gone into complete shutdown mode...fever, chills, congestion, sinus issues...this is hardly surprising given the relative stress of the past week. Provided the lab confirms the surgeon's results within the next couple of weeks, radiation is on tap for the whole month of July and while I feel stressed and sad that my Mother has to go through this treatment, I am incredibly grateful for the fact that her cancer appears isolated and completely treatable.

BSG

Something to put a smile on your face (and mine)...

Episode 1 of Beaglestar Galactica.

Check it out!

2 months old

Dear Big Lebowski,

Today you are officially 2 months old. I was gearing up to write you a long and gooey post about how awesome and lovable you are and what an easy baby you've turned out to be...but you've spent most of the day screaming and, to tell you the truth, I'm not feeling so warm and mushy right now...I think I'd use the words "tired, confused and frazzled" for this particular afternoon. Let's make this day an exception...mmk?

I'll be looking for warm and mushy tomorrow.

I still love you 'till the end of the earth, even when you are being VERY annoying.

The Mamma

maybe..

Maybe it was the forced 4-day weekend spent with MD...

Maybe it has to do with the fact that the kid is finally sleeping a solid 6 hours every night...

Maybe it's because my belly if full of steak and lobster after a lovely meal with dear friends...

Maybe it's just because of a turn in the weather....



...but despite recent news...I'm feeling hopeful, cautiously optimistic and ready to tackle life head-on and lend a hand to those around me that might need propping up. Surgery is on May 15th at which point we'll know more about a recommended course of treatment. This is something that can be beaten.

can I handle the seasons....

We arrived home from the hospital and I knew something was wrong. The baby was fine, but I knew I wasn't. I was in pain, too much pain. She arrived that night by bus and took a taxi to the house, an unprecedented move. She cooked supper, she got up in the middle of the night, she brought me to the hospital when I couldn't take it anymore...she held my hand while I cried.

Oh, mirror in the sky
What is love

She pulled into the garage and I knew something was off, she was taking too long to walk through the back door. Her eyes were rimmed with red as she tried to keep it all in. She had just dropped off her own mother, walked her inside the special care home by the hand...like a parent with an 87 year old child. She handles it on most days, but this afternoon it was all too much...the role reversal, the parenting of a parent, the loss.

Can I sail thru the changing ocean tides
Can I handle the seasons of my life

I sat in her living room at 3am with a baby suckling at my breast. She sat with me for a long time in the dark, a comfortable silence between us. She made tea and then told me that after 4 ultrasounds that she was getting a biopsy. We both knew what the eventual result would be. I look down at my own breast, I'm not sure what to say but sorry and that I love her. I watch her eyes well up with tears and wish I could hold out my own hands but they're full.

But time makes you bolder
Children get older
I'm getting older too