Throughout this journey, I've tried to be the rock, the one who is there to guide my mom as she's gone through her diagnosis and treatment. I've tried to be the one to take notes, offer translations/clarifications for my mom.
Yesterday I stumbled.
- Kick in the gut 1 -
- Mom's doctor with the Mayo Clinic came in and told us that her cancer has made a "robust" return.
- Kick in the gut 2 -
- He wanted to admit her to the hospital and get her started on a new chemotherapy regimen so that we can get to a Stem Cell Transplant.
My brain was swimming as the doctor talked about these two new realities. How bad is "robust"? What does that mean? What does admission mean? When will my mom get better? How difficult will this be for her? How long will we be here? What will this mean for the rest of my family? What does this mean about more time off? What does this mean about getting home for Christmas?
I stumbled and it scared me. Now you'll tell me, "It's OK, Brian." Maybe it is, but this hasn't happened to me before. I've been shocked throughout the process, but I've been able to keep my wits about me. Not this time though.
I know I was only being human. I couldn't think. I was freaking out. My "reptile/fight or flight" part of my brain kicked in and took over. It's like all the cliches. Everything was moving in slow motion. The doctor was talking, but it wasn't making any sense. The words weren't getting from my ears to my brains.
He took a breath and a moment to ask us if we had questions. Thankfully my higher order thinking kicked in and I was able to get my bearings. I got back on track, shakily resumed my notations, and the processing of the information coming at us.
So, here we are day 2 of the hospital. I still don't know what our near future holds, but I am slowly gathering my wits and trying to figure out how to best help my mom and be as useful as possible. We're doing better and trying to focus on what we need to do to get better.
Just say a prayer for me all of us.