Denial or Hope?

She sat pitifully in the waiting room. There were sick people all around. Some not so bad. Others were worse than her. I kept looking at her. She has lost more weight, more hair and her color is a dull gray. I have not felt a feeling quite as sad as the one I felt looking at the woman that has wiped my tears, comforted me through pain and eased my fears and thinking "it's time for me to do the same for her". I know she is worried. She doesn't willingly go to the dr unless she is worried. She said "well, I did have a few good weeks". I knew what she was insinutaing. I refuse to believe it. She is going to get better. She has to.

The last few days have been absolutely dreadful. She has barely left her bed. She has finished her antibiotic and she is still sick. Possibly sicker. I have spent most of my time at her house trying to find the middle ground between caring for her and invading her privacy. I am in and out of her bedroom constantly. My kids have, quite possibly, forgotten what home looks like. Her breathing is ridiculously hard to listen to. Her cough hurts MY body. I can only imagine how her chest and ribs feel after one of her marathon coughing spells. She is exhausted and just plain weak. She is eating good, by my standards, but the weight is falling off. Me and my brothers are beside ourselves with fear. This is the hardest thing I've ever witnessed.

Today started off with an illusion. "I will hang out at home, let Amber take mom for her follow-up bloodwork and then I'll visit with her this afternoon. Maybe make her some soup or something". Well, I barely got that though through my head when I spoke with Amber. (They have been at mom's for a cpl days because their AC is broken and awaiting repair.) She said that Mom was pretty bad. That she had coughed all night long and barely slept. She had a lab appointment, but instead of getting ready, she was back in bed. I asked to speak to her. She had told Amber that she didn't have the energy to talk on the phone, but I insisted. When I heard her wheezing, I knew we needed to see someone. I quickly called the clinic. I don't think I actually brushed my hair before we left. But atleast my shirt was on the right way this time. I usually wear my shirts inside out or backwards these days due to my not taking the time to even look in the mirror. Luckily, I have never showed up anywhere missing any clothing. Anyway, when I got there and she walked down the hall, I started crying immediately. She lost a great deal of hair last night. It's been a long time coming, but it's still really hard to see. She looked so bad. SO bad. I'm not sure, but I don't think mama noticed me getting upset. Amber patted my back sympathetically and reminded me that everything was going to be okay. I got the feeling that Amber had experienced the same breakdown when she initially saw mom this morning. We are all very close. I laid out mama's pills for the day and stood by and watched her take them all. She asked me "do you think I need to wear a hat or a scarf?" I assured her that she looked beautiful either way. I knew she was self conscoius, so I went ahead and tied on a scarf for her. The wait was long at the clinic. I stared at her and (probably rudely) stared at the other faces in the room too. I always wonder about their stories. I always worry about them, even though I don't know them. Even if she is stressed out with unbrushed hair and an inside-out shirt, I hope they have a daughter that loves them like I love mama. They did blood work and a chest xray. We found out that she still has low platelets (about a 4th of what yours and mine are) and her white cell count is still dangerously low. We are still awaiting xray results, but in the meantime, they let her come home with a STRONGER antibiotic and a steroid. We have been encouraged to keep her away from large crowds (germs) and we have to monitor her fever very closely. Also, we have to watch for bleeding (nose bleeds etc). She is very fragile right now. Something very small can be fatal. I am scared for her to get in my car. What if I wreck and she gets a small gash and bleeds to death? What if my girls are carrying a little virus germ and she catches it and dehydrates? The worries are overwhelming. It's not just me. It's all of us. My older brother told me he thinks he has an ulcer. We are all on edge and trying to hold it together for her.

Ronnie is petrified. He is a natural born worrier. Josh is confident-he is naturally optimistic. I am....Well I don't know what I am. Depends on what moment it is, I guess. Though mama is forever hopeful, in her heart of hearts I feel like Mama is thinking that this is "the day". The day things get bad and stay that way. Well, it can't be. I don't believe that. I know she feels rough, but she IS going to get better. I just know it. Please continue to pray.