younger brother syndrome and an update.

In between all of the crying the other day, I thought, I should probably see how Murray is doing. And so I iMessaged him. And he didn't answer right away because, time difference, which was fine. But then he replied that night. And I didn't know whether to get mad or to laugh. (Spoiler: I chose to laugh.)

Here is the conversation we had (and what I was thinking, in italics):

Me: Hey dude. Are you okay?

Him: Yeah? (Uh...)
        Are you using your old phone? (WTF?)

Me: What do you mean?
       What old phone? (This is not why I am messaging you right now.)

Him: Your old iPhone. The one you didn't take to China.

Me: Obviously I'm not using it right now. I'm in China. (Duh.)

Him: Cool.

Me: Why? (You better not be thinking of using it.)

Him: I just figured you'd have a different number or something.

Me: I'm using my iPod.
       I'll use my iPhone when I get home. (So, too bad, you can't use it.)

Him: Oh. (Yah, "oh.")

Me: How's Mom? (We should have been talking about this 11 messages ago!)

Him: She's in the hospital. But, I'm sure she'll be fine. (!?!?!? That's reassuring.)

Me: Why didn't you tell me? (?????)
       She's been there since Sunday. Aunt Gwen told me today!

Him: Well, I wasn't sure how to reach you. (Are you effing kidding me?! Aren't you young people supposed to be all about technology?)

Me: Facebook?
       Email?
       Skype?
       iMessage or FaceTime?

Him: Well, to be honest I actually didn't even think about telling you. It didn't come to mind cause I got a shit tonne of stuff on my mind. (It didn't come to MIND?! You have a shit tonne of stuff on your mind?! Ha!) (Amandaaa, give him the benefit of the doubt...)

Me: Like what? Are you okay?

Him: Yeah, I'm fine. I just got a lot of school stuff to do. (AND?!)

Me: Okay. Well, if Mom is in the hospital again, please tell me. (I am typing this calmly, but really, want to type it NOT CALMLY!)

Him: Well she's still there. I'd like to visit today after I'm done school today. (Like to? Yah, so would I!)

Me: I know she's still there. (...) I mean, if she gets out and then has to go back.

Him: K. Does messaging like this cost anything? (Really? Really?!)

Me: No.

Him: K so if anything happens I'll reach you this way. (Big sigh.)

Me: Ok, thanks! Love you!

Him: Love ya too.

And I really do love him and I'll be happy to hug him when I get home and I probably won't even strangle him. Thanks for the comic relief, bro.

*****

Mom is still in the hospital, not sure how long but at least the rest of the week. She's on blood thinners and will be for a few months. She's also on pain medication, thank God. She has her second chemo treatment today and I'm really REALLY hoping it doesn't make her as sick as it did last time. (Yes, I know chemo makes you sick, but apparently it's not supposed to make you as sick as she's been.)

Also, it is really REALLY hard to hear your Mom break down into tears. Especially when you can't hug her. 

But, it is really REALLY nice when you realize how many nice people there are out there. So many people have left sweet comments here and on Facebook and have emailed. A couple of Mom's co-workers contacted me. A few of my co-workers have reached out. I have good friends. The best friends. 

Thank you, everyone! Keep the prayers and positive thoughts coming! (Please :)

today. and eff cancer.

I got to work early today so I was doing my usual eat oatmeal and check Facebook/Twitter/Instagram thing before the kids got there.

And on one of my checks of Facebook, I saw that I had a message from my Aunt Gwen (my mom's sister):

"Your Mom asked me to let you know that she is in the hospital. She has developed blood clots in her lungs and they admitted her. She is being treated and is feeling much better, but will probably be in for a few days longer. Not sure if they will be able to do her chemo treatment this week as she is waiting to see the Oncologist... If you get this message and can make a phone call to me please do so. Do not worry about the time."

I took a couple deep breaths and didn't think I was going to cry, but then, almost without even realizing it, I was sobbing. Like, hold-my-hands-up-to-cover-my-eyes-sobbing.

The first part—"she has developed blood clots in her lungs and they admitted her"—was scary, I feel like I can't breathe. The second part—"she is being treated and is feeling much better"—was phew, okay, she's okay. And the last part—"If you get this message and can make a phone call to me please do so. Do not worry about the time"—was scary, I need to call her now, cue sobbing.

And so I took a couple more deep breaths and stopped crying long enough to tell my TA, Danni, I need to make a phone call... and then my hands were covering my eyes again and I was shaking and crying. Between sobs and attempts to breathe, I told Danni that my mom was in the hospital and tried to explain why and that I had to call my aunt to get details. Meanwhile, she looked like she was going to cry (I think I may have scared her) and the security guard and ayi (cleaning lady) were staring at me. (The ayi had been laughing when I first started crying but then stopped as soon as she realized something was actually wrong.) I asked Danni to try to explain to the guard and ayi what was wrong and told her I'd try to be quick, that if the kids arrived, just tell the parents I was on the phone but would be done soon.

Then I walked quickly to the empty classroom at the end of the hall and got really frustrated with Gmail because the call feature kept telling me to download a plug-in but the damn plug-in wouldn't effing work. (I thought the "f word" a lot today and typed "eff" a lot, too.) So I got my wallet, added credit to my Skype account for the first time ever, simultaneously cursing and loving technology, and called my aunt.

And as soon as I heard, Hello? Hello?? (Hi, Aunt Gwen... Aunt Gwen!) Oh, Amanda! Hi!, I was sobbing again.

And really, I don't have that many more details than what I had from that Facebook message. Just that my mom has been really sick pretty much continuously since her first chemo treatment earlier this month* (which I already knew), that she was in a lot of pain on the weekend, went to the hospital sometime on Friday and didn't leave 'til Saturday (but wasn't admitted), and then went back on Sunday and was admitted because she has blood clots in her lungs. Which sounds effing serious, right? My aunt said Mom had been in a lot of pain but they finally got it under control on Monday and she's being given a blood-thinning medication. Only her family doctor has been in to see her so far; she's still waiting to see her oncologist. (My mom has an oncologist! Eff!)** The oncologist will decide whether or not Mom can get her second chemo treatment on Thursday as planned or if it will have to be postponed.

So, recap (more for me than for you guys): My mom is in the hospital with blood clots in her lungs but she is okay. Or, at least, as okay as she can be with breast cancer and blood clots. Eff. I just want her to be okay.

I didn't even know what to ask my aunt or what to say. I think I asked, Is she okay? a few times. Is she really okay? And I said, thank you a lot, I think. And I asked her to please give Mom a hug for me. And I told her to please tell my mom that I had tried calling her on the weekend and left messages, that I hadn't forgotten about her. And I cried a lot. And said, I'm sorry.

And then I called my Nan (my dad's mom) and I told her, I'm sorry for calling you; I know you were probably sleeping (time difference), but I knew you would want to know (they're close) and I can't talk to Mom right now, but I needed to talk to someone who loves me and who I love.

And then I took a few more deep breaths, wiped away more tears, and went back to work.

And let me tell you, getting bad news and then having to get straight to work as a preschool teacher is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because hugs from 2- and 3- and 4-year-olds are one of the best things in life. A curse because you just want to cry and you can't and then the 3-year-old cries because someone takes a toy from him and you want to say, Dude, you have nothing to be crying about right now, trust me, but you don't, because he's 3 and I guess maybe that is a reason to cry at that age. Eff.

Anyway, the rest of the day went on and it was mostly okay, except for crying off and on, and continuously thinking about my mom: How is she? She's in the hospital. She has blood clots in her lungs. Is my mom going to die? Oh my God, she could die. I mean, I know she's okay, but what if she isn't? What if something else bad happens but it's even more serious?*** I mean, in just one month she got super dehydrated and sick, got a bad throat infection and had almost no white blood cells, the antibiotics she was given were damaging her esophagus, and now this. Eff. I wish there was something I could do. I want to be home right now. I want to hug her. I want to see her. Why am I in frickin' China? I'll be home in less than a month but should I be getting on a plane now?

Other thoughts included: I hope she doesn't think I forgot about her. I hope she knows I love her. Why didn't someone tell me sooner? I don't want to be at work. I want to curl up with a blanket and cry. Eff. Is there something I should be doing but I'm not because I've never done this before and I don't know what to do? Should I even go to that wedding this summer or to Boston? Eff these tweets about The Bachelorette (or is it The Bachelor? I don't know because I don't follow this stuff); don't people know there are more important things in life? Amanda, don't be ridiculous, life goes on and you tweet about stupid stuff all the time. (I don't actually think this stuff is stupid. Not The Bachelor or blogs or what-have-you. Well, maybe they are, but they have their place in life.) Eff, I was doing yoga last night while my mom was in the hospital, in pain! I went for a walk this morning and complained about stupid stuff while my mom was in the hospital! My mom is in the hospital right now! I hope she's okay. What can I dooo?

And the answer to that last part is nothing. There's nothing I can do, not really. But I'm going to try and get through to my mom at the hospital tonight (her morning) so that I can hear her voice (and probably cry some more) and tell her I love her. And order some flowers to be sent to her. (As my Nan said when I sent her flowers for Mother's Day, I guess that's what they mean by wiring flowers.) And just try to keep things in perspective. Bad hair days? Pfft. Acne? Pfft. Small argument with a friend or boyfriend? Pfft.

Yes, perspective. I learned about perspective today. (A lesson that it seems we need to learn over and over.) And gratitude. I learned about gratitude today, too. I am grateful for:

My mom, for making sure my aunt would keep me updated.

My aunt, who let me know what was going on with my mom and who promised to keep me updated.

My Nan, who is always there.

My students, who hugged me, even though they didn't know anything was wrong.

My ayi, who washed my dishes for me.

My TA, who told me to take a longer break today, "because you need it."

My security guard, who said, in his limited English, "I have no words... your mom... you..." and explained that his oldest sister had breast cancer and had a mastectomy and is okay now. (Reminding me just how common breast cancer is. Eff. But also that it's not impossible to beat.)

My friends, who reached out via Twitter and iMessage and Skype.

Alanna, for a chips & dip and wine night.

T-Man, for hugging me and letting me cry on him (literally) and not saying anything.

All of you, who read this entire rambling post. Thank you. If you pray, please pray for my mom. If you think positive thoughts, please think some for my mom. Thank you, thank you.

*I know it's normal for chemotherapy to make you sick, but apparently Mom's been more sick than she should be. They said they'll adjust her next treatment. 

**Obviously she has an oncologist. I know this, but these kinds of realizations pop into my head pretty often. Things that make me think, Wow! Mom has cancer! Eff!

***My mom has always called me her "What If? Girl" and I'm pretty sure if she were here, she'd tell me to stop thinking, What if? She's been so positive throughout this whole thing; my mom's a superhero!

momma, you got this.

This is one of my favourite photos because she was laughing SO HARD.

Today is my mom's first chemo treatment. And I wish I could be there so badly. Because I love her and this is a big deal and I want to support her and cheer her on (because everyone needs a cheerleader, right?) and she's been there for so many of my firsts, the good and the bad.

Momma, you got this! And I got you. Always. xoxo

P.S. I can't wait to sit in the food court with you this summer and laugh about nothing and everything.

you can't lose me.

"You Can't Lose Me" by Faith Hill* came on my iPod a couple weeks after my mom's diagnosis and as I skipped past it, something told me to go back and listen. At first I wondered, what does a little girl running a race have to do with me? And then I heard the chorus. And then the verse about the daughter going out on her own. Yup. Okay, Universe, I needed this song.

"You can't lose me, you bet your life

I am here, and I will always be, just a wish away

Wherever you go, no matter how far

My love is where you are

You won't be lost if you believe

You can't lose me"

It came on again this morning and as I listened, I thought, I could really use a Mother/Daughter Day today. Also, I think I might cry harder when I get home than I did when I left.

*If you ignore the cheesiness of the video, it's actually a pretty good song. Especially if you're a daughter and/or mother.

I want to live in a world where my mom is okay.

I don't remember when she told me her doctor had found a lump - maybe a couple weeks before I left for Thailand? - but I remember not being too concerned. (Which is unlike me; I'm known to be quite an alarmist, but I think I might be calming down as I get older. I don't get nearly as worked up about things as I used to.) She was calm, so why shouldn't I be? And she said the doctor said it was probably nothing, but she was going to have a mammogram anyway. Because that's what you do when you're in your 50s (early 50s! Don't worry, Mom, I got your back!) and you find a lump in your breast.

So she had the mammogram. And then she had an ultrasound. And I started to get a little more concerned. Because she's my mom, you know?

And then she had to have a biopsy. And for some reason, I still wasn't that worried, although I did end up crying in the van on the way to work one morning, my earphones in, tears silently streaming down my cheeks as I thought of living in a world where my mom wasn't okay. And that's when I first had the thought: I want to live in a world where my mom is okay for as long as possible.

And the waiting game began. I knew there was a 50/50 chance that the lump was cancerous. But I guess I never really thought that the results would be that 50. (I hope this speaks to my optimism. Or maybe just my love for my mother. And wanting her to be okay.) She said she should have the results in about 5 days. Which meant that I'd be in Thailand. Probably Chiang Mai, which is where I was supposed to kiss an elephant. And she asked me, did I want her to tell me while I was on vacation? And I told her, of course I did! So we decided she would send me a Facebook message as soon as she got the results because she wouldn't be able to call me. (I know, finding out whether or not your mom has cancer through Facebook is not ideal, but Skype doesn't work on my iPod and she doesn't FaceTime so, whatever, it's what worked for us, don't judge.)

But did I really want her to tell me while I was in Thailand? (I realize this sounds selfish, and it is, I guess, but honestly, I think it still boils down to I want to live in a world where my mom is okay for as long as possible.) See, the thing is, there's never a good time to find out whether or not your mom has cancer. Unless, of course, you're finding out she doesn't have cancer, in which case any time is the perfect time. But I didn't want to be sad while on vacation (no one wants to be sad, ever!) and I didn't want my sadness to ruin my friend's vacation because it was just going to be the two of us traveling together and I just want to live in a world where my mom is okay for as long as possible. I talked about it with a couple of my friends and it was agreed: If she didn't tell me, I'd wonder, and I'd assume it was cancer because if it wasn't, she would tell me because then I'd be happy. And even though I wanted my mom to be okay, I needed to know as soon as possible because she's my mom.

So I made a plan:

If I got a Facebook message from my mom before I got to kiss an elephant, I wouldn't read it until after. That day with the elephants would be my last hurrah! before finding out my mom has cancer. Or, that day with the elephants would be the great day on which I kissed an elephant AND found out my mom didn't have cancer.

And I made a plan for what I would do when I found out either way:

If it turned out she didn't have cancer, I would be happy and drink a bucket of alcohol (I'd be in Thailand, remember) to celebrate! If it turned out she did have cancer, I would cry and drink a bucket of alcohol to... well, to be sad. I admit, maybe it wasn't the best or healthiest plan, but it was a plan.

So I got on a plane to Thailand and compulsively checked my Facebook messages every time I had WiFi. And nothing. No messages from my mom. So I messaged her on the day she was supposed to get the results, the day I kissed an elephant: Have you heard anything? Nope, not yet. Have fun!

So I flew to Bangkok. And then I had a thought: Mom, you really haven't heard anything or you just don't want to tell me? Her response: No, really. I wouldn't lie to you.

And my alarm went off at 3:45am on February 13th in a dark hotel room on Khao San Road because we had an early flight to Krabi. And of course, I checked my Facebook messages while I was still lying in bed. And I saw there was one from my mom and I felt calm as I opened it, even though I knew there was a 50/50 chance my mom had cancer, maybe because I still didn't think the results would be that 50 because our parents are invincible, aren't they?

I'm sorry honey but I just found out today and I have cancer but it's early so only need a lumpectomy. I'm ok! 

And I breathed. And I breathed again. And again. And then I sat up and threw back the covers and Alanna said, what? And I said, it's cancer. And Alanna said, what? And I said, it's cancer! My mom has cancer. And then I went into the bathroom and tried to FaceTime Melissa because I knew she'd know what to say but she didn't answer and I just said, Fuck. And that's what I kept saying, out loud and in my head. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

And I brushed my teeth and got dressed and said no to Alanna when she tried to hug me, even though I appreciated the gesture, especially because I know she's not a huggy person, but I just didn't want to be touched right then, at least not by someone that wasn't one of "my people" and my people were halfway around the world. Fuck.

And as I finished packing and got in a taxi and drove to the airport, the stream of random, ridiculous, nonsensical thoughts started:

I want her to be okay. I want her to cut her boob off! I just want it out of her! I want her to be okay. My mom has breast cancer. It's okay; a lot of people have had breast cancer and they're fine. Think. Sheryl Crow. That news anchor -- what's her name? Christina Applegate. Sharon Osbourne -- wait. Did she have breast cancer or another kind of cancer? It doesn't matter; she had cancer and she's okay now. I know there have been other people with breast cancer and they're okay. [Blank]'s mom. There must be more... Okay, think of people who have had any kind of cancer and are okay now. (And here's where I could only think of people who had not been okay.) My mom has cancer. Fuck. Oh, the taxi driver's buying two of those flower things for his mirror; they must be some kind of spiritual thing. I'm going to take that as a sign that my mom's going to be okay. I should do one of those breast cancer walks or runs. Yah, I'll run a half marathon for my mom and then she'll be okay. Should I get one of those bracelets? Yah, I should get one of those bracelets and wear it every day and then she'll be okay. My mom has cancer. I found out my mom has cancer on February 13th, 2013 and I'll always remember that. Or did I find out on February 12th because that's what day it is back home? Fuck. This does not work well with my need to remember dates. Why am I in a different timezone?! My mom has cancer. She has breast cancer. This is my fault for watching Parenthood, just like when I read Karen's Grandad and then Grampy had a heart attack. Fuck. I want to live in a world where my mom is okay again.

And then we were at the airport and we checked in and went through security and while we were waiting to board I thought, I need to call my mom. But WiFi wasn't working so I went to a payphone that said it was for international calls but it was out of service and did you know there are no working payphones anywhere anymore?

So I got on the plane and was thankful I had a window seat and I listened to "We Are Okay" by Joshua Radin while staring at this:

"We are grown but cannot see
Lost our world of make believe
Simple times now seem so far
Used to be in my backyard
Yeah, the world was still in my backyard

But, we are okay, we are alright
We sing very loud,
Yeah, we're singing
We are okay, we are alright
Close our eyes, close our mouth
Yeah, we shut our eyes though we're in doubt"

And it was then that I realized: My mom has cancer. My mom has breast cancer. How is she doing? What is she thinking? What is she feeling?

And I was embarrassed at first that it took me about 3 hours to realize that my mom - a person, not just my mom - has breast cancer. But then I thought, maybe that's normal because she's my mom, because moms take care of their kids, and because she's supposed to be invincible, right?

I just want to live in a world where my mom is okay again.