The Bad News

This will be a quick, no frills humor-less post; a quick update of just the facts m'aam, just the facts. My humor is being given where it is direly needed - to my mother. Some of you know the knews already, some of you don't and if you stumble on this page I'll tell you right now that pity is not wanted or accepted here. Humor, and lots of it is the official currency.

My mother was diagnosed Tuesday with a brain tumor. She had no previous symptoms, no headaches, no nothin'...this was as completely as out of nowhere as it comes. Tuesday morning I called her, which I never do in the morning, and she sounded a litle weird. I asked if she was okay, and she said her vision was blurry. My first thought was heart attack (she had one 14 years ago) and my second thought was brain tumor. I thought I was being ridiculously overdramatic. I was wrong. My father (once I hunted him down telephonically) took her to the doctor right away - they sent her federal express to the ER, as she also had loss of equilibrium. By the end of the day it was confirmed that she had a brain tumor - whether malignant or benign was unknown- and surgery was scheduled for Thursday. I already had a suitcase packed, MAH got me the ticket online, and I hopped in a cab...all within less than half an hour. WB, who waited with me all day at home, rode with me to the airport.

Unfortunately, it does get worse.

Wednesday we did an MRI, to scan the other vital organs for tumors while awaiting surgery. The outcome was not the one we were hoping for, at least that's the way it was phrased. Her brain tumor was not a primary tumor, but a secondary one. She has 2 tumors on her lungs, 1 tumor on her adrenal gland, and 1 tumor on a lymph node in the center of her lungs. Lungs are thought to be primary. The radiation oncologist said that it would take a miracle to get her cancer free, but we can certainly buy time...who knows how much. First step, however, and matter of utmost urgence was the tumor in her brain and getting through surgery. I took notes, asked as many questions as I could with each doctor as my parents both nodded in complete shock. She was perfectly healthy a week ago, and except for vision and balance, even then.

I washed her hair in the sink (I still had creative problem solving capabilities despite what we dubbed my sympathetic brain tumor) and gave her a sponge bath (I told her I knew she never wanted me bathing her but I figured I owed her at least 7 years' worth and it was time for me to pay up a little) and we had time just us as Dad went home to sleep. She told me that there was a small chance she wouldn't survive and that she just needed to tell me then so I heard it clearly that she loved me. Then she magically waved her hand to say okay, enough seriousness, back to the jokes and laughter. My mother and I deal with things by laughing as much as possible; its more healing than crying. I told the multitudes of visitors spilling in and out that engaging in what Maman and I dubbed "tumor humor" was mandatory and frowny faces weren't allowed.

Oops, this was supposed to be just the facts, and I need to get back to the hospital - I'm at Sarachkah's new house, getting a desperately needed shower and change of clot.hes. Absolutely everyone has been incredibly supportive and helpful - too much to name, but thank you all. Also, I am getting your voice mails, I just haven't been able to return tons of calls or talk too much...it is still appreciated.

Yesterday was ttruly the longest day of my life. They took her down at 11am, surgery was scheduled for 1pm. We began the long wait, outside, where we elected to camp the entire day despite the heat and humidity. We had a steady stream of support the entire time and were never alone. At 3:30 we got a call from the OR that they had begun late. At 9:30 they were finally finished and at some point after that the Neurosurgeon came to speak with us. The tumor was spherical, the size of a golf ball, and definitely malignant, which we already knew without having the pathology report. He said a lot more, but its a lot of clinical details that you probably don't need to know, and I've had virtually no sleep since Monday night.

She is doing remarkably well for someone who just had her cerebellum hacked away at; she is joking and laughing and pretty much making sense. Yes, there are definite effects, and you can tell she's had brain surgery, but she's absolutely amazing and positive. As long as we can still laugh...

Dad, however, is like a child around her, and I feel exhausted from taking care of both of them, keeping everyone's spirits and energy up, and I'm really about to crack. I haven't been able to yet, as I'm the one talking with all the doctors, taking care of what Maman needs, and keeping Dad together. WB is flying in - he'll be here in 6 hours, thankfully, and then I can be held together a little myself. It will be helpful, especially considering if I do fall asleep, whenever I wake up is when I fall apart. It will be good to have him there then.

Quick story - when I told Maman what time the surgery was finished, her eyes grew very wide and she said "Oh!....Poor Dr. Wilson!". That's my mother.

Now I really need to run back, calming as this tiny moment away has been.

If this doesn't make sense, remember I had what Maman and I are calling "sympathetic brain surgery"..we figure the excuses should be liberally shared.