Now, I had a relatively quiet birthday today. I hate to celebrate on a weeknight, so we'll have a few "birthdatinis" this Friday. I had a singing phone message from my brother, Andy. I had friends call and email me their smartass comments about turning another year older and how I had two more years until forty ... and then I got “the look” from mom.
I had already planned on being with mom and pop today since we had scheduled to have her drainage tube removed last week. And to tell you the truth, I had forgotten that it was my birthday with all the hospital chaos. I arrived at Casa de Longo around 11:15 this morning and mom was wielding a birthday card in her hand with such excitement I had to duck before she cut my jugular!
We ran through our pre-flight checklist – cane, insurance cards, doctor’s phone numbers, list of questions and her handi sticker for parking. Once we knew we had everything, we loaded up and headed out. We had to go back to the hospital that mom didn’t particular care for during her recent stay. Since they put the tube in, they were the ones who had to take it out. We got her all signed in and waited for her name to be called.
Here is where I first noticed, “the look.” I looked over and caught mom starring at me. Maybe it was because it was my birthday and she was probably taking a little walk down her maternal memory lane, but her eyes started to tear up – there is a lot of love and gratitude in those peepers. I leaned over and asked why she was crying and she said no particular reason – LIAR! I know what she’s thinking!
She proceeded to tell me that when I opened my birthday card, that there was a yellow note that I had to read separately. Of course I asked, “Am I going to need Kleenex”? And she just shook her head in affirmation. Have I mentioned that I hate it when she makes me cry? But she proceeded to tell me that if she didn’t tell me, then I would not know what is in her heart. I told her that she was mistaken. I can tell by “the look” what is in her heart – there are no words written or spoken that can compete with “the look.” I get it momma and I understand – the feeling is mutual.
As we proceeded to wait for the calling of her name, she closed her eyes a bit to rest. I told her that hopefully we would not have to wait too much longer to check in. To which mom replied, “I have spent the past seven months checking in.” I looked at her and said it beats the alternative, “checking out.” She started to laugh and mentioned something about “always knowing what to say.” Yep, that’s one of my many job functions that I embrace – CEO of Smartass Retorts! :o)
Her medical pager finally went off and we were ushered back to the CT room were they would remove the drainage tube. We got momisan all settled in on that little bed that passes through the giant donut and then proceeded to the hall way to wait. As pop paced up and down, I saw a gentleman in a white coat cross the hall and say, “Ida Longo.”
I have mentioned before that mom had “chemo brain.” I on the other hand have developed a super sensitivity to those words, “Ida Longo.” I am always eavesdropping on the other side of the door to make sure that they are taking good care of momisan. Now, because I am not bashful, I poked my head into the door and asked the doctor if everything was okay. He said, “Yes” but they could not remove the tube because it was still draining. I informed him that momisan was a cancer patient who had undergone a lymphectomy and regardless of whether the tube was left in or removed, it was still going to drain some. He looked rather irritated that I had questioned his white coat authority, so I told him to call her oncologist for further direction. Why is it some doctors hate to be questioned?
After fifteen minutes, mom emerged from the CT room a bit shaken and with some pain. Dr. “Personality” explained that he went ahead and removed the tube after speaking to her oncologist and gave us a brief synopsis of what to watch for and he disappeared down the long, white hallway. The thing with Cancer patients, especially those that have undergone surgery, chemo and radiation is that their bodies react a bit differently to treatment. So while mom’s continuing drainage might be an issue for a surgeon, for an oncologist it is a common occurrence. So my advice for anyone supporting a Cancer patient is ask those questions regardless of how irritated the “little white coats” become, especially if you are using an unfamiliar physician.
We had a technician wheel mom to the parking garage and everyone piled in for the ride home. Mom got comfy and I ran out to get a cheese pizza for lunch. We ended the day on a high note – me, mom and pop sitting on the porch, eating a slice al fresco.
As my birthday nears its conclusion, I was contemplating what I would wish for. Thirty years ago it was a pony, Babies and one of those Easy Bake ovens. During the past few years, I realize that I no longer wish or really want for anything tangible. I guess that is a sign of maturity when you realize that your house is in order and you don’t really want for anything – life is SUPERB!
One would think that there are not too many things on my eighty year old mother’s “must see” list. She has done a lot and seen so much more. I remember on my thirtieth birthday, before I had met my husband, I would sometimes wonder if mom would see me married…I know she thought the same thing too! Thankfully, we crossed that off the list three years ago. Now I would be lying if I said I did not think about her being around for at least one grandchild on the Conley side of the tree – that would just put her over the edge of uncontrollable euphoria. And yes, I know at 38, my window of opportunity is closing! I can’t help it if it took James so long to get here.
So that is my birthday wish tonight, God…as selfish as I know it sounds. Please let my mom enjoy many mores years on this earth to witness the birth of another grandchild. That is the greatest gift I could ever receive, to see my mom hold my baby like she held me thirty-eight years ago, today.
Val
(Looking a little tired today, but holy cannoli...look at that hair growing in. The texture has changed and it's a very nice "salt and pepper" mixture.)
