The Longest Summer Ever

There are a couple of reasons for calling this post "The Longest Summer Ever".  As some of you may recall, my mom was diagnosed with cancer just 4 weeks ago.  It was a shock, no, it was a kick in the chest and totally knocked the wind out of me.  We waited for days to learn when her surgery would finally be scheduled.  Every minute, every hour stretched out indefinitely (normally a good thing, right?).  Then when we finally had a date and time, we kept hoping that it would get moved up.  I think we all just wanted to put this behind us and find out what was next.  I hate not knowing what comes next, and with surgery, we finally will.  My mom finally goes for surgery tomorrow morning at 9:30 am.  I hope you will keep her and the rest of the family in your prayers.  I have a hard enough time saying "my mom has cancer" let alone going to a hospital and sitting there knowing that the doctors are operating on her.  Just saying the words makes me tear up still.  I guess I just don't want to see her in pain. 

My mom is not the sickly kind.  She's never had surgery and has said on more than one occasion that she could have easily birthed us in a field, strapped us to her back and kept on working (she's referring to the old days, but I'm not sure who's old days).  This is the same woman who was trying to separate frozen hamburger patties with a knife and right about the time she realized that was not a good idea, stuck the knife all the way through her hand.  She pulled the knife out and the blood began spurting (a pretty good indicator that she hit an artery).  Any normal, sane person would have gone to the ED.  Not my mom!  She tried to wash it as best as she could and then she wrapped a super-absorbent feminine napkin (aka heavy flow pad) and some toilet paper around it and went on with her day.  She even went to her sign language class the same night.  She seemed rather shocked that we were upset that she didn't seek treatment.  She really does live the old nursing adage "all bleeding stops eventually".  How she didn't hit a nerve and permanently damage her hand is beyond me.  

The other hard wait is for my son.  It's funny as focused as we all are on my mom's cancer, she keeps telling me she is praying that we hear something soon about Haven.  I really do hope we hear something soon although I suspect that many agencies out there are now being very careful and making sure they only tell their families after they are quite sure of the referral.  Honestly, that's ok with me. 

He still visits me in my dreams, even if it is indirectly.  Last week I dreamed that my whole family showed up for a surprise party.  My sister came in carrying a little, tiny, pink, heart-shaped cake.  On the top it said "Happy 3-month Birthday, Duc".  Actually, there was a lot of other crap also written and I couldn't figure out who was the smart one that wanted to write a book on top of a 5x5 inch cake.  Anyhoo, even my subconscious is telling me that I have a son and when his birthday is.  I guess it is dreams like this that keep my hope refreshed and keep me from despairing about my child.  I'm planning my fall and winter mindful that things might change between then and now, but looking forward to the changes. 

Normally summers seems to rush by.  I remember as a kid dreading July 4th because it meant the summer was basically over--it was all downhill from there.  Somehow, I think this summer is going to be a little bit different.