days

 Goodbyes feel strange. 

They are foreign to many because there is always a hope that you will see the person again, so you trick yourself into thinking that goodbye isn't really goodbye, but see you later. 

I am in a situation where I am preparing to say goodbye to someone I love... purely love. As much as I may have hated times with my mom (teenage years were not kind to either of us) she is still the person who came to get me in an emergency until replaced with my husband. I think back to the moment I gave birth to our amazing little Sterling and how she wanted to be in the room and I kicked her out. To be fair they were checking my cervix and I really didn't think that was a spectator sport, but still, my mother snuck back in to meet little sterling as he made his entrance into the world.  My mom at her core was willful, strong, and resilient. All of those fundamental pieces of her are being stripped away. I looked at her tonight, really looked at her as she struggled to breathe. The change was almost instantly. She is no longer waking. She is no longer able to smile, or talk... she is hidden in there like a pearl hidden in a clamshell. She is hiding in sinew, tissue, and bone. A body that is failing her. 

I went to emerge tonight to talk to my mother's doctor and my family doctor about getting aid for mom and rather than the nurse just giving me the aero chamber (to deliver Ventolin) she asked me to wait so Dr. Ferreira could talk to me. God love that man, he is my kind of person and laughed as I explained with my crude humour what is going on... and he understood. He listened. We laughed at my inappropriate jokes (crude humour is how I get through most things, captain inappropriate over here). He told me what we are doing is hard and that we have done remarkably well. He is worried about our family unit. He is worried about my father and about my sister and me. He said he is going to help us through this and that they are always there. It is hard because he wants to do more, but we did a lot of talking about the concept of "more harm than good" and how to move through the next part. He told me something I thought he wouldn't after I showed him the video... she has days. Days. We have days with my mom. She will be gone, no longer will I be able to see her, to hug her, kiss her on the forehead, or to make her screw up her face in disapproval (That lasts one was a specialty of mine)

I cannot put into words what "days" means and how I feel about that. It is a heavy concept to grasp. Days. I keep repeating it in my head. FUCKING DAYS!!!! ugh, if I could go outside and scream until my voice goes hoarse or if I could just hit every tree or smash more ice (it all melted so that isn't an option) I could connect with everything I feel. I haven't told my dad or my sister what Ferreira said to me, more so because he was talking to me as my doctor but also because we had family over tonight and they don't need to know that. That was for my own benefit in making a decision of whether or not to go home to Kingston to see the kids and Doug or to stay. I needed the answer to be able to make an informed decision. The decision is clear now so in that way it was beneficial. 

Days. 

It doesn't seem to compute. Days Lindsey, Days. 


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