Sometimes, Tom Hanks, sometimes, “there IS crying in baseball.”
(If you haven’t seen this movie, then I feel ashamed for you because it’s one the best movies of all time A League Of Their Own.
My goal was to be out of the hospital by Monday—today—because Brody has his first-ever t-ball game. I never dreamt I’d miss it.
Needless to say, today was a hard one for me. With expectations to leave the hospital this morning, we got news that yielded some surprises.
My doctor told me my liver levels were up—he’s assuming from a medication but not completely sure. He had also talked to the cardiovascular doc and said that he (the cardiovascular guy) wanted to do surgery today to try to scrape the blockage out of my superior vena cava (the second largest vein in your body that carries blood from the head, neck, upper chest, and arms to the heart).
But my oncologist proposed we wait until tomorrow to keep an eye on my liver levels.
When I told him I had my son’s first t-ball game to go to tonight, and if there was any way I could leave and go to it, my oncologist said “We could discharge you, but with your insurance, it takes days to put things back in process and I’d really like to have this done as soon as possible.”
I looked at Klay for an answer, response, or to see how he felt. He knew it was important for me to be at Brody’s game. “It’s fine,” he said, “we will stay and do this now.”
I just nodded in agreement.
When the doctors left, I turned to Klay with my eyes full of tears, and said: “But I promised Brody I’d be there.”
He walked over to the bed, held me, and said: “there are plenty of games for you to go to and if we get you feeling better, you will be able to do more with the kids and go to all the events you want.”
I know he’s right. In the long-run, it’s better I do this now. But it’s his FIRST official GAME ever. And as a parent–especially a parent who loves sports–I’ve thought about this day for a long time now. My mom never missed a game, and if she did, it was because she was watching my sister play, but she always made sure someone was there watching me–always.
It just breaks my heart.
I can’t stand it.
I never imagined last Thursday’s planned trifusion and photopheresis treatment would land me in the hospital for nearly a week that would end in surgery near my heart.
You’d think I’d learn by now, I should never expect anything to go the way it’s supposed to at all anymore. I should realize by now, I’ll be the one patient that has the oddest things happen to her, the one who gets most unlucky in health, and the one who never seems to be able to catch a break.
I severely hate how it takes a toll on my kids, though. I can’t imagine what they think.
“Mommy’s never here.”
“Mommy are you sick?”
“Mommy doesn’t feel good.”
“Mommy, are you feeling better?”
“I wish you were feeling better so you could play with me?
“Mama, do you need help?”
“Are you going to the doctor, Mommy?”
“Are you coming back this time?”
Most of those are questions from Brody. He’s old enough now to understand that I’m sick and go to the doctor a lot. But both of them have seen me struggling to stand lately so they’ve both asked me on multiple occasions if I need help? Bex just says, “Mama, need help? Help, Mama?”
They turn to Klay for everything now.
“Daddy, can you tie my shoe?”
“Diaper change, Daddy.”
“What’s for dinner?”
“Can we go outside Daddy?”
Klay is both the mom and dad right now. He does both jobs and he does them well. I can’t help but sometimes feel like I’m not needed by the boys or Klay. Everyone has their lives straightened out and taken care of, meanwhile, mine keeps causes bumps in the road that they’ve had to help me climb over. It just seems unfair to them.
Everyone’s life changes when something like this happens. It does. And watching those around you who have to go out of their way to take care of things you normally take care of or stop their lives to help you get through this dark tunnel of shitty luck, makes you feel weigh them down.
I don’t want to weigh anyone down.
Trying to parent after recovering from a stem cell transplant is really hard. I never really thought about how tough of a road it’d be to be a parent to two kids—much less be a parent who has multiple health issues. Because it prevents me from doing so much, I feel like I’m not the fun exciting parent I should be. I’m tired, exhausted, and often feel withdrawn. I want to do things fun with them, but when I try, things get out of control and I’m too tired to try to keep them focused.
And days like today, I’ve been looking forward to for so long and missing that experience of watching your kid play their very first game because of my health issues really hurts deeply.
I’m so very thankful to those who sent me videos and photos of Brody and I got to even FaceTime to see him in real-time when he was batting. So, thank you, Tori, Britney, Kiki and Klay. Love you all so much!
And they won their first game. Brody and his cousin Swayze were so excited.
PS. I’m surprised the people in on the floor didn’t come tell me to keep it down cause I was yelling so loud.
Loudest Team Mom On The Oncology Floor,