Finally, around 9 p.m. my mother arrived in her hospital room at the women’s center in Baylor. She was puffy and out of it, but not that out of it. She immediately looked at the clock and asked me why she was just getting back to her room at 9 p.m. She had heard the same things that I did. The surgery and recovery should only be a total of about 5 hours. Now it was 8+ hours later.
I shrugged. (The doctors had advised me not to say anything right?)
Around 10 p.m. everyone who had been waiting for her to come out of surgery began to leave. It had been decided that I would be the one to spend the night. She was mostly sleeping anyway, but as soon as everyone left and it was just us, she sat straight up in bed and motioned for me to come stand by her bed. She looked me straight in the eyes and said “I have cancer. That is why it took so long, right?”
How do you tell your mother that she has cancer?
I was frozen for about 3 seconds, but it seemed like 3 hours. I had to tell her. It was she who had taught me to always tell the truth and besides, she would want to know. So, I caved (against the doctor’s instructions) and nodded my head. Her response was similar to what mine had been several hours earlier. She just nodded and went back to sleep.
At 4 a.m. she really woke up. The anesthesia had worn off and she wanted to get out of bed and walk out into the halls. I took the oxygen off of her and unstrapped her legs from the self inflating stockings that promote circulation after surgery. We pushed the button to raise the bed and I helped her out.
What is the first thing she did after discovering that she had cancer?
Dance!
The hospital stay lasted several more days and was filled with friends, flowers, and well wishes. The recovery from surgery alone would take at least 6 weeks. By then, the pathology reports would be back and a plan of attack on this disgusting cancer would be devised and ready to be executed.
I think there is still more...
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