Friday, 07.13.2012 - 6:48 pm.
My mom has cancer. We found out yesterday, although the possibility had been there for a week. That certainty has been so slowly creeping up on my mind that by the time I read the message from my dad that he had "news" (not "good news"), I wasn't surprised.
Last night I cried with a howling that tore through my throat. I was in bed already, thinking I'd processed the news of the day. I'd talked to my siblings on Skype a few hours ago. By a happy coincidence or whatever it may be, my mom falls ill when Brother #3 returns from Spain and Brother #2, a doctor, is visiting with his family. Sister is there and Brother #1 was scheduled to travel next week even before we knew. This soothes me, knowing that all my siblings are there helping and supporting my mom, and my dad, and some of them have the best contacts. But it also makes me feel so guilty for not being there. I'd recently submitted an abstract to participate in a congress in Buenos Aires in november, but now I'm hoping theyll reject it.
I've noticed how my siblings and my dad try to keep me calm, and tell me how everything is harder from the distance. I really appreciate their concern and their empathy. They all looked worn out last night, after 24 hours of my mom in the hospital for her surgery and biopsy. We thought she had cancer in her ovaries, but it's in her lymph nodes, which, strangely enough, is the least-worse option because at first we thought the tumor was massive and in some organs. No idea yet how old or spread it is, though. But she needs chemo and may respond or not to treatment, said Brother #2, the official spokeperson to explain me everything over Skype last night (while Brother #3 and Sister stood there, like...just being there, as to comfort me if necessary).
He said I shouldn't worry. She was ok, resting, in good spirits and being brave as she always tries to be when facing hardships. It's too early to tell if I have to travel to my home before february, as originally planned. I'm thinking I could go in december, and Andrew said he could come with me then instead of february (bless his golden heart, he's been with me through all this). It's expensive, it's exhausting, but my biggest concern is that I still have to ask for permission to the scholarship agency. But, you know, that's doable. And so far they haven't found a reason to say no to my requests.
It killed me seeing my dad last night. He also was in good spirits but his face, there was something horribly sad about it. Once Brother #1 and I said that if/when our parents had to go, dad would have a harder time if he was the one who stayed, for a number of reasons. I got too fatalist, I suppose, panicking about what will happen to him, what will he do without my mom. He'll have his five children for sure, but it's not the same without his partner, as he calls her in his poems. They've been together for 35+ years.
And my mom, I pictured her undergoing treatment, losing her hair. She's already so tiny, always underweight, so fragile. I was in bed after having shed a few tears, thinking that was all for the day, because there was no use in making up narratives just yet. But Andrew asked me something, I replied and started to bawl incontrollably. I've only cried like this over Joseph, the pain just comes out of your body through your voice and the tears and the shaking. I thought I'll never stop. Then I had another episode minutes later and thought I'd better got up because I wouldn't be able to sleep and I'd keep Andrew awake. But I did fall asleep and I slept ridiculously well.
It was also a hard day yesterday because I had two patients. The one that's making progress mentioned the word "cancer" during our session, and a new one I started seeing yesterday is a survivor of child sexual abuse (I seem to attract these cases) by a female family friend and also her father committed suicide. So much pain in her. And I was thinking of her and losing her father at 16 like that, and I felt so close to me the possibillity of losing a parent myself.
And yet, I don't go for the "why, why my mom?". My mom is an angel, she's a heaven-sent woman with the kindest heart. But I don't have Just World beliefs (much) so I think these fucking things just fucking happen. And also, I consider myself so very lucky and am very grateful, for having my parents until adulthood and until I'm mature enough to take care of myself and take care of them if necessary (should I just not stay in Chile, I ponder since I found out). And I've always prayed for them to leave in a peaceful manner, with time for us to say goodbye. That's all I ask.
But see, I'm thinking too much ahead. She should be getting home soon and I'll get the e-mail from my dad or a sibling informing me so. Next week she'll see the doctor to define treatment and start it, and see what happens next. Everything else right now is fear and fantasy.
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