Thankfully Mom was amazing at recovery. She surprised and impressed the doctors with how fast she was up and walking. Her determination was legendary on the 7th floor. It was so great to see after so much difficulty. She was so excited to tell everyone how far she had walked the last time and how far she hoped to get on her next walk. We were all so relieved. She would go and sit in the visitor’s area and talk to whomever was there. She met some amazing people. There was the lady who sat and knit. She would hardly look up; she would just sit and knit. Finally, she started to join in conversations and we found out that her son was on the 7th floor due to cancer. He had been battling for a long time and he was in very bad shape. She was there day and night with her knitting. About 2 weeks before my Mom left I went after work and he had passed away in the night. My Mom didn’t talk about it but I could tell it bothered her.
Mom fought really hard to keep her mental health in the only way she knew how; self-preservation and denial. She focused on anything and everything positive and tried to deny that anything was wrong. She insisted many, many times over that she felt at peace. Which was good but she was also trying to keep up the appearance that she was fine. She didn’t want to show any weakness like if she did she was acknowledging the possibility of mortality. Before I would leave for the night I would “put her to bed”. I would take her for her last walk around 8 or 8:30 and we would sit and watch the sun go down over the Assiniboine River. The nurses would come to do their last checks of their shift and get Mom comfortable in her bed. Then I would make sure that she had enough water, a midnight snack, clean off her tray and make sure she had her newspaper or crossword book nearby. I would stay till about 9:30 or 10; with her usually telling me gently that I needed to go. One particular night I could tell that Mom was putting on a brave face. I could see that she was upset but wouldn’t talk about it. She didn’t want to worry us. I did something I had never done before; I knelt down by her hospital bed and whispered in her ear. I told her that it was okay to not always be brave. That we were thankful that she was feeling peace but that didn’t mean she couldn’t tell us her fears. I tried to give her permission to cry, to be angry, to break down; to talk to someone. I told her she didn’t have to talk to me or anyone else in the family. Just talk to someone. But she was quiet.
At some point while she was in the hospital she asked me after sitting quietly, “Did they really say that I have breast cancer or do they need to do more testing still?” My heart broke. I didn’t know what to say but I had to think fast and be honest. I told her “No Mom, they did say that you have breast cancer. I’m so sorry.” She crinkled up her mouth, looking out the window and very disappointed and said, “That’s the one thing I really didn’t want.” Meanwhile I’m sitting there stunned. She had been told about her breast tumor over a month before and it had been discussed in numerous meetings. And here she was in the hospital due to a mass number of tumors throughout her abdomen that couldn’t be cured. But she was worried about a 2 cm slow growing tumor under her arm. I didn’t know what else to say.
As difficult as those weeks were the fact that she recovered without any infections or complications was nothing short of a miracle. We were so thankful. By the end of her stay I was far more concerned about her emotional health than her physical health.