September beckons. Crazy how this year has both flown by and stood still. I feel as if I've lost time. I hold images of salient moments: clasping Mom's hand as she underwent brain surgery for the first time, huddled with Ross and Dad in the freezing prep room, terrified that she wouldn't come out of it, astounded by how sure she was of its success, she has now endured so many more surgeries, I no longer worry about the emotional trauma of her body being subjected to the knife; a mad dash around midtown Manhattan, searching for corned beef, black and white cookies and pashminas to bring as gifts before my second trip to Seattle, when she was still in the hospital, knowing now I was trying to make up for my guilt at having left her, as if NYC souvenirs were what she wanted or needed instead of my presence; Mom's birthday party at the Kline, just as she planned it, milestone #1 that we weren't sure she'd make; her room full of cranes and crochet and knitting and drawings and crystals and fleece hats, all symbols of love and well wishes from near and far flung friends; my wedding and visiting with two pregnant friends, in the blink of an eye, they now have gorgeous healthy infants and I find myself where they were then, hoping for an outcome as beautiful as theirs; Mothers Day and telling my family we're expecting; Fathers Day and not being there; JFK, the flight with TV or without TV, SeaTac, TSA, long security lines, short security lines...But there are some things I just don't remember. Long gaps of time that I can't quite believe happened. September tomorrow. Crazy.
Mom has been tired. Perhaps chemo. Perhaps the leaking. Perhaps other unknown factors, though the fatigue has been much more apparent since a couple of days after chemo. Mom had PT today and walked with the white cane and did some other exercises, but tired out quickly and wasn't able to push as hard as last week. Which is fine! She's still getting stronger. Walking with that cane is exhausting. The first week after treatment is usually rough. I'm not worried about the fatigue or lack of appetite-she's faced that before and come through every time. Actually, that's true of the leaking incision, too. I just worry about that because I know she's not up for another brain surgery. It would be best if she could avoid needing it.
Also, a correction from yesterday. At Urgent Care, Mom did NOT see the neurosurgeon, it was the physical on call. Sorry. And please use this as yet another reminder that nothing I write should be taken as fact-this is all my perception of reality, my side of the story. Written mostly from 3,000 miles away.