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So I�m playing hooky from work today.
I didn�t mean to, exactly. It just sort-of happened.
About two months ago, my mom sat down and told me she needed to have surgery. She�s got a cyst in her ovary about the size of a grapefruit, which is making her exceedingly uncomfortable. Not good. It doesn�t appear cancerous, which is good, but it�s huge and unpleasant, and has the potential to burst, which would be really, really bad.
She and her doctor decided to remove both her ovaries, but leave her uterus in tact, unless the surgeons find something unexpected when they get in there.
Then she told me I couldn�t tell anyone about the surgery. Well, she told me I could tell the Boyfriend, but other than that, she wanted it kept quiet. With everything happening with my grandmother, she wasn�t ready to share. Which I guess I understood, but�man, that�s quite a secret, you know?
So anyway, her surgery is scheduled for tomorrow. I�ve been basically okay with it. She trusts her doctor, who has said this won�t be a complicated procedure. I trust her. So far, so good.
Then she asked me if I would give blood for her, �just in case.�
I am not a good blood donator. The last couple times I�ve tried, I�ve passed out on the donation table partway through the pint. Last time, the Red Cross volunteers told me that while they appreciated my effort, perhaps this was not the best way for me to help. I agreed, and decided I wouldn�t donate blood again.
This, though, was different. It would be a dedicated donation, straight from me to her. How could I say no? As I was sick last week, Mom�s doctor told me I could do it straight through today.
I made arrangements with Donna (couldn�t tell Mr. M, since Mom still hadn�t told his wife, and he can�t be trusted with a secret) to take today to go donate. I plan to go in Saturday instead to work on a project I need quiet time for.
This morning, I called my mom. She told me she�d never called the doctor to make arrangements for me to go in and give blood. No problem, I said, I�ll just call the blood bank myself.
I did. Karen, the very nice woman who answered the phone, sadly informed me that since the blood is sent out of the hospital for testing, they need a 3-4 day lead time, and it was too late for me to give a donation for her.
I hung up and lost it.
Not that I was so looking forward to giving blood. But this was a way that I�d convinced myself I had some sort of assurance Mom would be okay. She�d have my blood if she needed it. Now, she�s got nothing.
Truthfully, I am very, very afraid.
Not rationally. Rationally, I accept that Dr. Ahn knows what she�s talking about, and that this won�t be �big deal� surgery, and that Mom will be fine.
But when I take logic and reason out of the picture, I get very scared.
She has to be okay. I don�t think I could deal with her not being okay. Not now. Not ever, really.
So now, I�m getting my stuff together to go and see her anyway. I need to lay eyes on her before tomorrow, to see for myself that she�s alright.
Nothing else will make me feel better.
And tomorrow, the Boyfriend and I are spending Valentine�s Day at the hospital. He�s been amazingly good about all of this, really.
I�d like one easy week, please. Is that really too much to ask?
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