Moving This Mountain 

          Yesterday I took my mom to the doctor. It was time for her staples to come out. It was a little of a wait but when we finally got in they took the staples out. My mom said it didn’t hurt like she thought it was going to. When they were off she said she felt better. But then she looked down. I feel like my heart had just shattered into a million pieces then was set on fire. Looking at her face, seeing how hurt she was. Looking down and seeing what she saw. The scar that was now forming. 

          I put my hand on her shoulder and told her she was strong. Not because she’s my mom, but she is one of the strongest women I know. She felt a little better. I try my best to comfort her as best as I can. I know I can’t make that hurt that she feels go away but I can help her though it. She seems at peace with what happened but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t emotionally hurt still. It changes everything. 

          Like yesterday before we went she wanted to wear a scarf. I asked her why? She told me that she just felt like it. But I knew she just didn’t feel comfortable going out like that. That gave me such a pain in my chest. Knowing she feels that way. That people will look. Jerks. They don’t even know what we have gone through, but it’s the sad truth, they judge. So I let her wear it, and I told her she looked beautiful. 

          We are still trying to move this mountain. It’s hard but here we are. One day at a time. It gives me much joy seeing how she’s returning to herself. Getting up and waking around. Even yelling at my brother and me to make our beds and clean up. I missed her. I missed that part of her. The part that made her my mom. No matter what happened, she’s still my mom. She will always be, and I will always love her, And it makes me happy that with each day that passes by she gets better. Physically and emotional. 

And it will be moved

Emotional Recovery 

            Today we had our first check up since my moms surgery. According to the doctor everything is turning out “beautifully”. Makes me happy to hear that. Although while we were there and they were taking the gauze off I had to help undress my mom. 

            Now, never did I think I would be doing such thing. But, her health is my priority. Once the gauze was off I got to see the wound. It wasn’t a pretty site. It was actually a little unsettling. If I was shaken up about it, I can only imagen how she felt. Like, a part of her, a part that made her her, is now gone. 

            Once the doctor was examining her, I sat there thinking, how would I feel if a part of me was no more? How would you feel? It’s something that you have to kind of train your brain to think about, and also later accept. Then I thought of all the women who get mastectomies and they have to remove both breasts. That must be wicked hard. And I have mad respect for them. If your one of them, you are strong and I am proud of you. 

            If your a guy reading this and you don’t understand because your a cold hearted and closed minded asshole, just picture someone taking one of your balls off, maybe even both. How would you feel? They are part of you. Part of what make you male. So for a women to get a breast or breasts removed is hard. Extremely hard. Because sure they can take your balls off no one would notice. But breasts are pretty visible. 

            Anyway, the doctor said there might not even be any need for chemo, but that would be up to the oncologist. We have to make an appointment to see him soon. 

            I could tell that my mom was shaken up about seeing her wound. She said she didn’t want to see it but she did anyway. I hugged her and encouraged her the most that I could. Got her to see the bright side of all this. This is all for the better and her health is the most important thing. She cheered up a bit once I started making my little jokes, I like to see her smile. 

            Now, hopefully we are on the path of recovery. I have to find some exercises for her arm so it won’t stiffen up. Also maybe a bra that will get her self estime up a little. I know this isn’t easy for her and I want to make it as easy and as painless as I can. Even though it’s a lot of physical recovery I feel that there will also be a lot of emotional recovery, and I will be there every step of the way to make it better.  

48 Hours 

             In the past 48 hours I have cried, laughed, and puked my guts out. It’s been really difficult. I never thought it would be this hard. I can only imagine what my mother must be feeling. This is at the same time devastating but at the same time it’s good that it has happened. 

             We woke up yesterday more nervous than I had ever been in my life. I almost had to talk myself into believing that what was going on was actually a reality and not just another fucked up screwed up dream. I kept thinking to myself, maybe this isn’t what’s supposed to happen. And it’s not. No one should ever go through this, and I’m sorry if you have. I understand and I feel your pain. I, myself, had never felt anything like this before. 


             Watching my mom lay on the hospital bed crushed my soul. I felt scratching and tearing in my throat like a bear clawing it’s way out of it’s cave from hibernation. Like a big ball of fire. I wanted to push all the nurses away and yell at them that what they were doing was wrong, she couldn’t go through this. 


            Once she was given something to relax she felt better. If only I would have been givin something similar. She was so relaxed because she even fell asleep. But she was still in a state of consciousness, because when I saw her like that so peaceful and sound asleep, I started to cry, and she said, “it’s going to be ok”. Which made me cry even harder. 

            How could something like this happen to a person like her? How could this happen to anyone?  She didn’t deserve to pass though this. No one actually does. It’s so humiliating. But the nurses and the doctor were so kind which made verything feel way better. But I couldn’t hold it in any longer. All the tears came flying out like bullets patiently awaiting to be propelled by the pull of the trigger.

              I was with her for about three hours before she had to go into the surgery. I didn’t want to leave her side. I almost ran back and asked if they were sure we weren’t dreaming. Maybe it had been a mistake? But it was real, and it felt so real. It’s still does. Because it is. Once I stepped out to the lobby I saw all our friends there. 

             If I would have stayed there I would have cried to death in front of them, and I had to be strong for my brother, and also for me. So I went outside. Got some food and came back to thank them once I had gotten it all together. Their heart warming words almost tore me apart. They were nice but they kept reminding me how unfair life was. 

            Then, about two hours later, I got called that she had come out and everything was fine. I almost ran to the recovery room. The nurses that were there were also very supportive. Reassuring me that everything turned out great and she was going to be fine. I told everyone else and they were happy to hear that just as I. 

            They took her to her room. Where we sat together for an hour before she decided she was ready for visits. Then they came, brought her a nice card, and some roses. I thought that was really thoughtful. But it’s what you always do right? I just wasn’t waiting for it. 



           We told the nurse if we could stay, my brother, my friend (Gabriel), and his aunt, who is out neighbor over night. The nurse said it would be a problem. The night gave us more highs and lows. I couldn’t stand seeing my mom in pain and not being able to do anything. The nurse was very kind and was always asking if she needed more medicine. 

             Once we got through the night she felt better in the morning. We went out to eat around 8 AM. When we came back I had a killer migraine. Then I started feeling nausea. I had eaten a salad. But soon it had came back shooting straight back out. Went to a pharmacy next door to get pain pills and they worked for the headache but I still puked some later on. . 

             She was released around 2:30pm today. The drive back was excruciating because every little bump in the road was like hell for her. Once she was settled in her bed, I took Gabriel home and headed for her pills. I had to wait an hour but I got the chance to buy her hand sanitizer and a neck pillow. Also a cute little stuffed dog. 


            Now, we are on the road to recovery. I’m glad the surgery is over but I hate seeing my mom like this. She is a strong, independent, caring, innocent, loving, kind, warmhearted woman who has done the impossible to raise me and my brother. She will get through this. She will get better, and she will be better. Because she is my mom. And I know she can do the impossible.