So, my week was relatively uneventful. Played with the boy Monday and Tuesday, went and visited Ron on Wednesday. Normal crap was enjoyed.
Then Thursday came.
My mom was scheduled to have a hysterectomy Thursday. I didn't find out till later that they had found growths in her uterus that they think might be cancer. She was having other problems so she told them to just take it all out. My brother and I are 26 and 21 and she couldn't have any more kids anyway, so why not?
I'd had a bad feeling about it for a few days. I ignored it, though, thinking that this time I'd get myself all worked up and nothing bad would happen and I'd just look like that crazy lady down the street who collects cats. So, even though I was uneasy, I went about my life like there was nothing to be worried about. After all, a hysterectomy is a pretty routine surgery.
Thursday, I decided that I wanted some rum. I was in an artsy mood, didn't have to work, the kidling was with his grandparents and Greg was working till 10PM. Why not have some rum and Coke and write or play art? That idea sounded good at around 530PM, so I commenced with the rum drinking. I wrote my first poem in years and was thinking about getting my pastels out when my phone rang. It was my step-dad.
he gets this tone in his voice when he's worried or upset and doesn't want anyone to know cuzz, well, he's a guy and guys are big and strong. He told me that my mom had lost a lot of blood. Double the amount they were anticipating. She decided that it would be fun to stop breathing, too, so she was on a respirator. He was just leaving cuzz visiting hours were over. I got off the phone with him and sat there for a minute. Then I started crying and calling people. No one would answer their phone. Finally, I got a hold of my friend John. He said that he was gonna come over after he was finished at the restaurant he was at. I tried to play it off like it wasn't a big deal cuzz I didn't want to interrupt anyone's night, I just needed someone to talk to, but he insisted and I relented.
John got there just before Greg and I proceeded to drink more. Not how I should've gone about things, I know, but I can't change it. John succeeded in taking my mind off things and got me laughing. Greg sat at the computer. He didn't really say much. John left a little after midnight cuzz he had to work the next morning. I, fortunately, didn't. I had called dispatch just a little after I found out and asked about using PTO time and told them that my mom had come very close to dying. I must've sounded worse than I intended cuzz the dispatcher on that night called our boss and called me back to tell me that I didn't need to worry about coming in.
I went to visit her the next day around 5 or so. I wanted to go earlier, but I had a really hard time getting myself to get ready and to actually go. No one had called me to tell me that she had gotten any worse, but I didn't know if she had gotten any better, either. So, I finally got myself up there. She was sitting in bed watching TV. They had taken her off the respirator and she was talking and stuff. They had made her start getting up and walking herself over to the bathroom so she didn't have trouble doing so in the future and what not. I honestly thought that I was gonna see my mom hooked up to a bunch of machines. They didn't even have an IV in her arm. o_O I stayed up there for a few hours and went back home. They discharged her yesterday. We're both a little pissed off about that. I mean, she died on that table and they let her go 2 days later?! Unbelievable.
So, I almost lost my mother. In almost losing her, I lost control of my emotions. I'm scared to think how I'll react when the day comes that she actually does pass away...