Today is another one of those days when waiting takes another few years of my life. When breathing hurts, when my thoughts are running ahead of things and the worst case scenarios are winning from the more logical thoughts that are telling me to wait before panicking.
For those who have been on my blog since July, know that my mother has been diagnosed with lung cancer and that I blogged about it as we went through the treatment. At some point in October I stopped because I felt it unnecessary to keep posting about the same things, since therapy was over and all we had left to do is find a way to pick up our life again. We received good news in October/November too so for me, it was time to leave this topic where it was, no matter how much we were still struggling and dealing with the aftermath.
I can’t recall if I ever mentioned this in one of my previous posts but my mum has entered a study (experiment) and for that study she has been regularly called for Mri scans (of her head). Everything went fine until my mum mentioned in January that she experienced equilibrium deficiencies. She has been referred to an ENT doctor and they’ve been doing some tests.
Result: her left ear shows a significant decrease of high sounds (like vowels) which makes it hard for her to understand what people are saying when there’s too much noise. Because of her past, they wanted to rule out anything abnormal and scheduled an Mri for her ear.
Today was that scan but it got cancelled. Last week they saw something during the MRI of the study and now they want to redo another (the same??) MRI just to make sure. It’s really confusing. However, after that Mri, she has to discuss the results today too.
And right now, I’m at the job, waiting for a call from my mum. I’m scared that it won’t be good. I’m scared that I don’t know if I can go through this all over again. I’m scared the diagnose won’t be as “positive” as last time. You can get “lucky” once, but can you be lucky twice? If I can even call this whole situation from last year “lucky” but I suppose when you go through lung cancer and get a positive result, you’re being lucky.
I’m writing this because the alternative is sobbing. I don’t think our clients need a blotchy-puffy-eyed-faced monster at the reception desk.
But it truly feels as if someone is ripping out my stomach, my lungs and my heart out of my chest. All over again. It feels as if I’m in a nightmare, reliving everything from last July – every thought, every fear and every pain.
I’ll keep you all updated if the news is good (or bad). For all I know it’s just something weird and nothing special. However, the emotions and panic are real and I don’t think this will ever go away once someone you love dearly has been diagnosed with cancer and the doctors say “we’ve seen something on your scan”.