From Sunday at 11:45 p.m.
My bookmark is once again a napkin from the hospital cafe, and Mom is sleeping in the ICU tonight. The afternoon was spent in the ER, and the news from an ultrasound was not good. Her cancer has spread. Mom's desire is for comfort, not aggressive treatment, and tomorrow we will figure out exactly what that means.
For now I sit in a dark kitchen, no one else awake in the house. All I can do is breathe in and out, believing that courage and strength will come in the morning.
Lord have mercy.
At that point on Sunday night the phone rang. The hospital wanted me to know that my mom's heart was struggling, and they suggested I come in. It was a long night, but she pulled through. Yesterday she had a procedure that turned out to be "an aggressive measure"...it always has its risks, but with her heart being so weak, they thought it was a 75% chance that she would not survive anesthesia. She survived.
But the cancer has spread and has caused them to not be able to open up the duct fully. Our hope yesterday was to clear enough infection to bring her home with comfort, and for my sister's son to be able to see her. I will find out soon if that is the case.
When Mom said yes to the procedure that the anesthesiologist thought would result in death, she looked at me (scared and showing it) and said: Jesus is Lord. Now, this is not normal Mom verbage. She has deep faith, and she keeps her deep faith pretty deep most of the time. But I am certain that my mother was not thinking of her own mortality at that moment, but about ME and how that mortality would effect me. She wanted me to remember that He is Lord over my life and all that happens to me. What my mother has taught me about loving was beautifully exhibited at that moment of life and death: It is not about me. It is not about circumstances. It is not about statistics. It is about loving others.
We're hoping for a few more weeks of loving each other, and we sure would appreciate your prayers.