One Year and a Few Miracles Later

We hit a milestone today with Ma - it's been a year to the day since her surgery, and well, as she says, she's still here.  She decided a month or so ago that she wanted to visit her surgeon, Dr. Antezana, and get his read on how much time she might have left.  She knew he couldn't really tell her anything specific without an MRI (which she didn't want, because she's on hospice) but she's been obsessed as of late by how long she's survived, mainly having to do with me.  Since I moved in almost a year ago, she is anxious for me to get on with my life, to move to California and be with Matt, have babies with Matt, etc. Marrying him is of course in there somewhere, but mainly Ma has been focused on those babies.  It's true, I'm almost 38, so in some senses the clock is ticking, but most of the time I can't think about all that, because where I am right now is with her. 

Ma also wanted to see Dr. Antezana to thank him.  We all did really, and it was a sweet reunion.  I think he was surprised to see her doing so well, and when she asked him how much longer, he said, "I don't know.  You've been blessed, and that's all I can say.  I don't pretend to understand how it's all happened, except that it's you and your family, all the support you have around you."  He went on to say that given the location of her tumor, etc., he would have guessed she might have lived six months after surgery, if that.  So, although we kind of already knew it, we've been given a huge gift to have had her around this last year..  He told us too, that patients like Ma are what make his job worth it, given how hard it is to hand out terminal diagnoses day after day.  He said that he would never forget her, and that he had as much to thank her for as vice versa.  Needless to say, we were all a bit teary when we left, but Ma was positively glowing.

For a minute there last month, Ma was imagining getting as much time as she'd asked her guru for (seven years) and I liked to go along with it, whatever the impossibilities.  But she suffered a setback a few weeks ago, in the form of a small seizure.  Jim and Laurie were with with her, and Jim gave her a shot of ativan fast enough to calm things down quickly.  It was sobering for all of us, as we'd gotten so comfortable and complacient as of late. She's been shifting for sure, but gradually enough that some days it's easy to think that maybe the tumor has slowed nearly to a stop.  Not so much.  It reset things a bit, at least in my mind, in terms of a little more vigilance and concern when it comes to being around her.  It was an unsettling reminder of the reality of what's happening, but maybe one we needed in order to refocus.  Who knows.  All we can do is keep focusing on the day we have with her, the one right in front of us.  When I am panicking, I remember that this is all there is to know. 

I'm also thinking this: if that crazy, skeleton with a head, Rachel Zoe can manage to get pregnant here soon, I don't have anything to worry about.

Eeek!  Mummy indeed. She may style people well, but Jesus does she need a sandwich. Or 12.