I watched the unique hits on this blog rise toward 1,000, and I told myself that maybe, if enough people read it, maybe I’ll help one person. One single person. One family. Just one. It was a tiny speck of hope that kept me at this computer at three in the morning, night after night, writing about things I didn’t even want to think about.
The blog crossed the 1,000 views mark somewhere around midnight EST, and there is no joy in me today.
Of course mom doesn’t know this. We’re keeping as positive as possible for her–she’s depressed enough, she doesn’t need us to be depressed, too. So I laugh and joke on the phone, then hang up and throw the phone across the room.
I got an email from a wonderful friend today. She wants to call my mother but she doesn’t know what to say. This is what I told her:
If you don’t know what to say, I suggest listening, then saying something like “I’m sorry to hear that,” or “That must be horrible,” or even “That really sucks!” I’ve gotten so many phone calls from friends who didn’t know what to say, but they wanted to call and talk to me, and it meant so much to me that they took the time to call. I didn’t expect an answer from them because there isn’t one. I’m sure mom is feeling the same way.
We’re gearing up for radiation to the brain–it might have started today. Chemo will stop until that’s complete. We don’t know how the cancer will respond. It’s possible that the radiation will destroy all the cancer cells in her brain. Her doctor doesn’t sound hopeful about this possibility—mom DOES NOT KNOW that.
There’s a lot she doesn’t know. She realizes that she’s already Stage 4, which means that the cancer has metastasized. She doesn’t know anything about percentages or statistics or anything that might add to her depression. She DOESN’T KNOW about the blog, and considering the things I’ve written there, she doesn’t need to know. It won’t help her to know how angry I am. She doesn’t need to know how much I blame myself.
So probably the best thing all around would be to listen. That’s really what she needs. If you’re in a spot where you have to talk, search for the tiny glimmer of something positive. Sure, the treatment is unbearably awful, but she’s getting the best medical care there is, in the richest country in the world, and she’s got insurance to pay for it. Yes, she’s losing her hair, but when it grows back it will be even more beautiful than it was before. Of course it’s very tiring to go through all this radiation, but at least she’s retired and has insurance… many people have to get out of the radiation room and rush straight to work.
If you can call her and leave her in a better mood than she was when you called, you will have done something almost miraculous.
Thank you so much for taking the time to call.
I don’t know if that’s the right thing to do. If you’re facing someone in a similar situation and try this and it doesn’t work, sorry, I did my best. But if you know someone in a similar situation, face up to it and call. You might not have the chance tomorrow.
