So, I keep seeing Facebook memories updating on Mom's visits to the Clinic. Every year, at the end of August, she and Dad would head to Rochester for Mom's yearly exams. It was the only time they could get in to see her doctor (at least the doctor she preferred). The updates are encouraging and positive as Mom's tests all came back normal - bloodwork, ultrasounds, x-rays, etc. Granted most of those tests had to do with her liver transplant from 1991. Only when there was another issue to crop up would extra tests and exams be added.
I could spend the rest of my life questioning and pinpointing all the times I felt like something was missed - was there a sign that Mom wasn't feeling well, that something was wrong? What else could the doctors have done to catch the cancer sooner?
But it's of little consequence now. I know that.
I remember our last trip to the Clinic - we went later last year, I'm not sure why. But Mom had suddenly gotten sick just after her birthday in early September. Nodules were found on her lungs - and through several tests, it was determined the cancer was back...Stage 4.
We headed to the Clinic for Mom's normal check-up hoping to get an appointment with Oncology while we were there. We were hopeful that treatments were possible, that Mom still had time.
It was around this time that Ryan Stevenson's song "Eye of the Storm" hit the radio. I fell in love with this song. I cried over this song. It was my anthem as I drove north - as my mother slept in the backseat of the car. I knew God had things under control.
And now - a year later...as a literal storm (Irma) churns in the Atlantic - a month and a half into my residency in Florida - I'm finding myself falling back to this song. Anyone who knows me knows my apprehension when it comes to major weather events. Lightning, wind...I don't do well.
I can imagine Mom nervously watching the weather over the next several days - calling me with updates as we watch the track this storm will take. I can hear her now, telling me - 1) it'll be okay and 2) you're coming home as soon as there's any certainty that it's heading your way.
I want nothing more than to hear her voice right now.
I could spend the rest of my life questioning and pinpointing all the times I felt like something was missed - was there a sign that Mom wasn't feeling well, that something was wrong? What else could the doctors have done to catch the cancer sooner?
But it's of little consequence now. I know that.
I remember our last trip to the Clinic - we went later last year, I'm not sure why. But Mom had suddenly gotten sick just after her birthday in early September. Nodules were found on her lungs - and through several tests, it was determined the cancer was back...Stage 4.
We headed to the Clinic for Mom's normal check-up hoping to get an appointment with Oncology while we were there. We were hopeful that treatments were possible, that Mom still had time.
It was around this time that Ryan Stevenson's song "Eye of the Storm" hit the radio. I fell in love with this song. I cried over this song. It was my anthem as I drove north - as my mother slept in the backseat of the car. I knew God had things under control.
And now - a year later...as a literal storm (Irma) churns in the Atlantic - a month and a half into my residency in Florida - I'm finding myself falling back to this song. Anyone who knows me knows my apprehension when it comes to major weather events. Lightning, wind...I don't do well.
I can imagine Mom nervously watching the weather over the next several days - calling me with updates as we watch the track this storm will take. I can hear her now, telling me - 1) it'll be okay and 2) you're coming home as soon as there's any certainty that it's heading your way.
I want nothing more than to hear her voice right now.