Reporting for Duty

I drove the 30+ miles from my sister’s home to my parents’ apartment Friday morning and reported for duty. First order of business – take Mom to the hair salon. A clean head and pretty do are powerful medications! Then shopping, which, as Mom’s only recreation these days, was also therapeutic.

I was relieved to see Mom looking fairly well and, though she says she lacks energy, she seemed to be up to the usual activities of living. But perhaps that’s what’s been so deceptive; she cooks a little, cleans up, helps Dad dress, etc., and seldom complains. The normalcy of her daily life fooled us all into believing that she was just fine. We never thought to question, “When was the last time you had a physical? …went to the dentist? …had your blood checked?” We were all so shocked at the sudden diagnosis of cancer.

Mom says she wakes up at night and thinks about the ordeal ahead, but she says she isn’t afraid at night. It’s during the day when she thinks about it that she gets worried. It’s unclear whether Dad is worried; because of his dementia and his inability to speak clearly, we can’t always tell what’s going on in his head. However, he did ask if he would be able to go to the hospital with Mom. I assured him that he and I would be right beside her the whole time.

My next job is to figure out the upcoming appointments for further tests and pre-op work. Though Mom said she has an appointment early Monday morning, the only appointment card I saw was for one week from Monday. I feel a little like an understudy who is thrown on stage without having memorized the lines. Watch, listen, figure out what’s happening, and then improvise.