My mother has managed to enjoy her last two surgeries — one a lumpectomy and the second to place a titanium subcutaneous port (sort of like a little drum with a tail leading to a vein near the heart) under her clavicle for future use in her chemotherapy. How is it possible for anyone to enjoy such events? Good surgeons make it easy, and really good anesthesiologists make it transcendent. While the surgeon removed the offending lump, my mother dreamed of curry and Indian delicacies because her anesthesiologist had been to many of the same restaurants she had in "Little India" near the Canadian border. They knew people in common and as he put the intravenous drip in her hand, they talked longingly of foods they had not eaten for a while. During the second surgery, my mother dreamed of the Himalayas because the anesthesiologist had traveled there, as she did many years ago, and they talked about the mountains while waiting for the surgery to begin. When I go to see her in recovery she is still in the Himalayas and tells me about drinking with the Sherpa women in a local bar that was really the woman's living room.
This is a lesson for me, a way to hold the strangeness of the hospital at bay with thoughts of food, nature, friends, and an uncanny ability to find others who can share such passions in such a sterile, impersonal place.
We are in between now — waiting for everything to heal before the onslaught of chemo and possibly radiation. It's nice, quiet, filled with sun and relaxing in the desert's early spring. The picture above is Jeanette sitting on our back patio (mountains not pictured) and the other – a favorite of mine – with her husband Enver standing on our driveway at sunset. Thanks to everyone who has sent us prayers, good thoughts, and well wishes.
Thank you for the affirmation that sharing myself, my “non-professional” self with my critically ill patients and their families does make a deep difference.
Sometimes one wonders.
Blessing to your mom and you.
Judith
I love those photos – the second one especially is beautiful. 🙂
Sending good thoughts and healing wishes to you mum.
Karen
We’ve never met, but I have been reading your blog (and Endicott before that) for 2 years or so.
I’m so glad you have given us a picture of your mother, and her name.
I have been including her in a weekly healing ritual I do, and it is lovely to have a visual to work from. 🙂
Nairn
in Ontario
your mother’s lucky to have a loving partner….
has she ever considered ayurvedics to help her healing?
Thanks every one for all your support. Narin thanks for the healing rituals — around here we believe everything helps. My husband dug out an old Catholic tradition of “The Fourteen Holy Helpers” — a unique group of Saints who were considered especially benefical during the horrors of the plagues. Each one had a different function and together they formed a healing wall around the individual. My mother also wears Lakshmi healing string bracelets that have been created for her by a Hindu healer friend. I have a bunch of little milagros that I will take to Saint Xavier here in Tucson once chemo is over…
Sandra — I think she is interested in ayuvedics — but we move slowly on food, waiting for her intestines and digestive track to “mature” after the surgery and the colonoscopy. In the meantime, butter seems to be the number one comfort food. (She’s a Swede…they put butter on butter…)
such a beautiful, soulful picture of jeanette and enver. hello jeanette! i think of you and send you green greetings from the swedish forest.
eva
It is so uplifting to hear of stories of good surgeons, good doctors, instead of the horror stories one often hears. That is so great for your mother, thanks for sharing this. It gives me hope. Prayers are still coming your way.
It takes a very special person to put the pain and fear aside in trying times. Thanks for sharing your mother with us.
Sandra – I have only thought of ayuvedics in terms of a spa. I will have to look into it more.