Came down to South Texas to spend a week in my swimsuit hanging with my mom, sister and a passel of kids.
Worst vacation ever.
I arrived Sunday afternoon and by that evening, I was asking my sister just what was up with my mom. Mom had helped me put sheets on a blow-up bed, then come to ask me what I had done with the bed. While we were standing in the room with the bed. A few more things like that and we were sure something was not right here.
Got her to the doctor the next day, but it was going to take three weeks to see a specialist. Given the fact that her mental state had precipitously declined over just a few days, we weren’t waiting. Trucked her off to the emergency room and by the next morning, she was in surgery.
Not just cancer, but stage four, highly malignant cancer. A tumor growing right in her forehead where it affects her cognition, behavior and personality.
Fast forward two weeks and here we are. Waiting for her to recover physically and mentally enough so we can do battle with the cancer. Waiting for her to stall out on recovery so we know that battle won’t happen. Waiting, waiting, waiting.
The level of unknown here is just killing me. And none of the potential paths ahead will be easy or ideal.
It’s times like this that you want your mommy.