Tick Tock

Yesterday was a LONG day. Luckily it was one of few days that Michael was able to stay home for a while. So I didn't have to wake the kids up. I left them sleeping peacefully around 6am and headed to my mom's house. It would be very uncommon, for me to arrive at my mom's house and her ACTUALLY be ready....Today was not an uncommon day. I waited patiently as she slowly and sleepily moved through her house getting ready for her big day. It was the day she would receive the much anticipated 2nd opinion. Of course, this was not anticipated by mom. It was anticipated by her sisters. We, (Me, mom and Ronnie) took off toward Jackson around 7am. We stopped in Taylorsville to pick up mama's big sister--Patricia. We call her Punkin. Actually everyone does. Anyway, the trip was long yet full of conversation. Mom asked a couple of times "what do I even say to these people?" I knew she was not looking forward to this appointment. We had a little trouble finding the exact place we were supposed to go at the UMC Cancer Research Center, but we eventually found it and we were only ten minutes late! When we walked in and sat down in the waiting room I glanced around. It was quite possibly the saddest place I have ever been. It was full of cancer patients and their loved ones waiting patiently for help. For a cure. For a miracle. I found myself feeling sorry for all of them until my eyes completed their circle and landed on MY mom and MY family. We were no different than those other sad faces in the room. We, too, were putting our faith in the hands of the medical professionals employed by this hospital. How did I get here? How did WE get here? Will we ever escape? I felt my mood slip into a dark place. I was fighting tears. I am sitting in a cancer center with my mom. My skinny, shedding, scared to death mom, and there is absolutely nothing I can do to fix this. Her face was full of dread. I hated that we were there. I feared what we would hear. I thought they might want to experiment new drugs on my mom, or try new procedures on her. What would I say? Would I continue to keep my opinion to myself and just support her decision? The anxiety was killing me. Finally, we were called back into a room. We walked in, and right behind us was the deliverer of mom's second opinion, Dr. Puneky. He was friendly and from his description of his job history, he was very seasoned in the field of oncology. We immediately felt as though mom was in good hands.

The conversation was thorough. He asked every question you can think of. Then he referred to the notes that mom's Laurel Oncologists had sent over. Finally came his conclusion of my mom's situation: "Your dr is doing everything that I would do for you. She is giving you the same medicines that you would receive here, in the same order. As far as I can tell, you would receive the same care at MD Anderson as well". There it was. There was no miracle cure. No new drug. No anything. Just the same news followed by the same statistics that we have already heard. The next few minutes were a blur of various questions and answers. It basically wraps up like this:

Mom has a 5% chance of living 2 years. She has a 2% chance of living 5 years. She can always hope for a miracle from God, because they DO happen. Her cancer IS in the extensive stage, but it could be worse. Alot worse. She seems to look pretty good. The radiation can do wonders. The next chemo can too. All we can do is take one day at a time.

 Before we left, he admitted that mom's dr. seemed "sharp as a tack" and that mom was lucky to live so close to a great oncologist. Mom told him " I AM lucky. I LOVE my doctors. And I REALLY trust them". And just like that, the appointment was over. I was satisfied. I was disappointed. I wasn't surprised, but I kind of was. I asked mom if SHE was satisfied and she replied "I am. I really am.". She then confessed to Punkin that this appointment was for her and Sharon (the other aunt) and them alone. She wanted to give them peace of mind. "I hope this is what you needed to hear" she said to her big sister. Punkin thanked her. Hopefully hearing this dr speak cleared up all the questions and doubts that have been keeping the aunts up at night. Sadly it is not questions or doubts that keep me up at night. It is fear of the situation itself.  But now we have to move forward with the information that we know is true. We know the facts. We hope to not be a statistic. We pray to find a miracle.

After we left the hospital, we took mom to get her birthday present. After all, it had not been the best birthday ever. Sitting in a dreary hospital is hardly a good time. So we made up for it over the next couple of hours......

Cross this one off the bucket list......She got her dream car! It only took 49 years!

It is good to see these two smiling and letting loose. Today one of mom's dreams came true. I was honored to be a part of it. I wish her baby sister Sharon had been there too. She loves her sisters so much! And her brother too, of course!  AND HER NEW CAR!

Check out that smile! She has been a bit self conscious, so I was SO proud to see her throw off her hat, open the sun roof and let that hair whip in the wind! We left it all behind us, the hospital, the cancer, even Ronnie and Punkin!

In a split second your life can change forever. One minute you are healthy and the next you are told that you have a year to live. One minute your mom, and best friend is never leaving you, ever. The next, you have to face the fact that she is only human. One minute life is so certain and the next you find yourself unable to predict anything. One minute you are in a hospital listening to a stranger tell you what he thinks your future will hold. The next, you're spending your birthday driving with the windows down in the car you've dreamed of your entire life.

How will you spend your minutes?