The Phone Call

It was just like any other day when I got the call from my dad. Well, not just like any other day because I was actually working a late shift at work, so when he called a little before six, I was still in my office. We chatted about my brother's upcoming baseball games, our weekend plans, fishing, and a little more of this and that. I started saying my goodbye's when he said it: baby, I actually called you for another reason.
I knew something was wrong right away. Someone was in a car accident, one of the dogs got run over, he and my mom were splitting. A million different things went through my head in that one split second before he said the next thing: your mom had a doctor's appointment today and we've got some bad news.
In so many words, he explained how she hadn't been feeling well, had several appointments with her primary doctor over the past few days and several tests and procedures done, but that day was the day they found the tumor. The tumor that we would later find out encapsulated several main arteries and veins, and her left bronchiole. The tumor that would supersede anything I thought about over the next several weeks. The tumor that I would cry over, pray over, curse at, and cry some more about.

Fast forward to today. Today marks exactly four weeks since I received the phone call. My mom was diagnosed with stage three small cell carcinoma, with a 3x4x5 cm tumor, a small nodule in the right lower lobe, which is also in the immediately surrounding lymph nodes. She isn't a candidate for surgery, because of the delicate veins encapsulated in the tumor. She has completed her first round (three days) of chemo therapy and will return again in three weeks for another three days. She won't be going through radiation (yet), they will determine if she will start after her fourth round (12 weeks) of chemo.

Obviously this is a very scary, difficult thing for her to go through. For us to go through as a family. As a nurse, I am expected to answer questions, to provide reassurance, but right now I'm a daughter. A daughter who is scared and doesn't know the answers. I wish I did, but being a nurse only grants me a few days of studying more than the average person with knowledge about cancer.

It is likely that my appearance here may not be as frequent. But then again, it may be. I cannot say. At first, this was all I could think about. I couldn't fathom writing about anything happy or interesting or entertaining. Slowly, life is returning to normal. My mom is still my mom. I am still living my life the same that I was before, going to work, going home, cooking dinner and doing the chores, but now there's just a little rain cloud hovering above us. But, as the saying goes, you can't have a rainbow without a little rain.