Monday, September 8, 2008

Fake Flowers, Pills, and Rose-Coloured Glasses

It's over.
The surgery took 6 hours, plus another 2 in the recovery room. The doctor was really optimistic, even though he looked completely exhausted. They took out the section of bowel where the cancer was, and he did not see any spreading. They were able to rearrange her bowels so that everything will work properly again eventually. Also, they took out her gallbladder, apparently it was bad. Dad spent the day pacing around the hospital and trying to read in the waiting room. He was so anxious, and didn't want to go far from the hospital no matter how much Grandpa tried to get him to go for a walk. He loves Mom so much - I always knew it, but I never really realized it.
The O.R. waiting room was trying really hard to be homey. A tv on each side, non-florescent lighting, magazines, books and puzzles. It made me pretty miserable, as the tv I was watching was showing something along the lines of World's Most Extreme Accident, Disaster and Criminal Videos, and there were ugly fake flowers all around. I hate fake flowers. All I could think about the entire time was the mental image of Mom being cut open and worked on in the Operating Room, like something out of the way too many doctor tv shows I watch. Luckily, there are pills to help me with my anxiety, so no panic attacks or crying.
We took a break and went on a walk around campus to the Western book store. It was nice to be back at my alma matter. I see university times through rose-coloured glasses now.
Finally we got to see Mom. She looked surprisingly good. She was really doped up and tired and out of it, but she was able to talk to us and seemed in good spirits.
So the worst is over now, right? She'll recover from this, do another round of chemo, get the bowels all properly connected up, and then we're good to go. I can't wait for things to be back to normal.

1 comment:

J-Money said...

Hang in there... we went through a similar situation with my dad in May. Things will get back to normal. Until then, I'll keep you & your mom tucked in my thoughts.