Waiting

My world is getting smaller. It is as if I have dictated it and so it shall be. Only I don't specifically recall doing so. Somehow, this shrinking feeling quiets me; but only when it is not frightening me.

I've been seeing things, you know. Dark things. Small skittering things. I catch them at the corner of my eye and they are gone before I ever knew what they were. They come more frequently now. Perhaps they are bits of old life, saying goodbye.

There is this saying that comes to mind. Sort of. I'm so bad with them. I mix up their words and meanings like random names in a hat. When I checked into this one, I was on. Funny how every now and then I remember one and in the end, it's one I wish I hadn't. Life is funny like that.

Here are some of the words - here is the song. Match it to my post title when you click. Some might say that this is a sad kind of song, but I don't really. Not happy; resolve maybe. Dallas Green has clever words for my small world.

A coma might feel better than this -
attempting to discover, where to begin.
You are weighed down.
You are full of something
sickness and desertion.
You are weighed down.
You're underneath it all.
So say goodbye to love
and hold your head up high.
There's no need to rush.
We're all just waiting... waiting to die.

(City and Colour ~ Waiting
2007/Bring Me Your Love)

How very 'me' of me...

I'm the one taking care of my mom pre/post surgery. Me. Right? Well, somehow I have managed to play hostess to... pneumonia. I mean, WTF?!?! It just had to way 38 years and some odd months to say, 'ok, now, now is the time'! So far it's been four full days of antibiotics and yet my lungs make Meerkat sounds when I lean back or go fully horizontal. And I'm referring to the erratic clicking sounds, not the sweet little trills. If I hold my breath my lungs still make noise; crackly, raking sounds. Ew. The doc says it's basically just congestion. Right. That's one way to see it. I can't shake the fact that my lungs are a snot sack not to mention a walking petri dish. I'm doing everything I can so that I don't compromise her health during her 'event'.

Her oncology appointment was straightforward but I'm sure she left there feeling more confident in what was about to happen. Oh, and I'll have to find you information, but she's being operated on by R2D2. Cool, eh? Right now the surgery is the big thing. They can't stage it until they've removed the offending pieces parts. To me, that's when it gets scary. And the only thing you can do is wait.

Other than the pneumonia, I've been very short-tempered and lashing out and doing stupid things. Work is not on my good side now but it will pass so it isn't worth going into detail over, ya know? I think my anger is related to the stress with mom. I won't lie - it is scary uncharted territory. Plus, she has no health insurance/savings left at all due to being laid off for so long so I may be paying thousands of dollars in fees.

Then I have my own annual gyn/mammogram appt due next month. Yeah, it's a bit scarier now.

Anyway, the vile pneumonia should give me a day to catch up no matter how badly I want to stay in bed. Here's something interesting. Only two episodes so far but I am interested.

I awoke only to find my lungs empty...

Earlier today I hand wrote the bones of a post while my mom had gone to the doc's. I was scribbling away in the waiting room about how I felt returning from Canada. I loved it but found there can be so much internal conflict over things you never see coming. In my mind there were symbolistic red lines and no change of heart, no matter how badly I wanted there to be. I was coming to the conclusion that I am just me and that's all I can be.

Before I finalized my commentary and supposition the doc called me into his office.

That was when we found out that my mother has cancer.
~