It's been a really, really crazy month since I last wrote, and so much has been going on.
A few weeks ago, I went up to the Central Valley with my family to go to a funeral. It was the first time I had flown with my mother in a number of years, and I am incredibly ashamed to admit that I was embarrassed for her. I was embarrassed that she had to buy an extra seat, that she had to do special pre-boarding, that she could barely walk through the airport. And I was sad for her, because she has so obviously accepted that this is her life and this is how it will always be.
The most defining moment for me came on Sunday morning though. I came home a day before everyone else, so my mom was driving me up to the Sacramento airport. It was the first time she was driving the rented minivan and when it came time for her to climb into the driver's seat, she almost didn't fit. And my heart just broke into a million tiny pieces for her as I watched her struggle with the seat and the steering wheel until she was finally able to make it work.
Needless to say, my own surgery plans were at the forefront of my mind while we were driving to the airport, so I ended up talking to her about it. She surprised me by being very supportive, basically telling me that I need to do whatever I need to do and that she would support my decision no matter what. I asked her why she had never gone through with it, because her doctors have tried more than once to get her to have the surgery. She admitted that it's because she's scared, mostly of the anesthesia. And she's scared for me, too.
But I'm more scared for her. Every since she got back from the trip, her leg has been bothering her, to the point that this week she called me in tears because she needed me to go get her muscle relaxants since she could barely make it to the bathroom because her leg was hurting so badly. It broke my heart and it makes me worry about how much longer she'll be mobile.
All of this was really the kick in the pants that I needed to get things moving on my end. My husband and I went to another surgeon's seminar and we both liked him much better than the first one we went to. So I finished all my paperwork ans faxed it off to the office yesterday. As soon as I get my consultation scheduled, I'll breathe a huge sigh of relief.
I've started talking pretty openly about having the surgery lately, too. I've been very lucky so far; everyone I've told has been totally supportive and my best friend is downright excited for me. Little does she know that I'll be borrowing her clothes as soon as I can after the surgery!
Speaking of which, I'm heading up to visit her tomorrow, and I can't wait. This month has been such a roller coaster for me that it's definitely time to go blow off some steam.
A few weeks ago, I went up to the Central Valley with my family to go to a funeral. It was the first time I had flown with my mother in a number of years, and I am incredibly ashamed to admit that I was embarrassed for her. I was embarrassed that she had to buy an extra seat, that she had to do special pre-boarding, that she could barely walk through the airport. And I was sad for her, because she has so obviously accepted that this is her life and this is how it will always be.
The most defining moment for me came on Sunday morning though. I came home a day before everyone else, so my mom was driving me up to the Sacramento airport. It was the first time she was driving the rented minivan and when it came time for her to climb into the driver's seat, she almost didn't fit. And my heart just broke into a million tiny pieces for her as I watched her struggle with the seat and the steering wheel until she was finally able to make it work.
Needless to say, my own surgery plans were at the forefront of my mind while we were driving to the airport, so I ended up talking to her about it. She surprised me by being very supportive, basically telling me that I need to do whatever I need to do and that she would support my decision no matter what. I asked her why she had never gone through with it, because her doctors have tried more than once to get her to have the surgery. She admitted that it's because she's scared, mostly of the anesthesia. And she's scared for me, too.
But I'm more scared for her. Every since she got back from the trip, her leg has been bothering her, to the point that this week she called me in tears because she needed me to go get her muscle relaxants since she could barely make it to the bathroom because her leg was hurting so badly. It broke my heart and it makes me worry about how much longer she'll be mobile.
All of this was really the kick in the pants that I needed to get things moving on my end. My husband and I went to another surgeon's seminar and we both liked him much better than the first one we went to. So I finished all my paperwork ans faxed it off to the office yesterday. As soon as I get my consultation scheduled, I'll breathe a huge sigh of relief.
I've started talking pretty openly about having the surgery lately, too. I've been very lucky so far; everyone I've told has been totally supportive and my best friend is downright excited for me. Little does she know that I'll be borrowing her clothes as soon as I can after the surgery!
Speaking of which, I'm heading up to visit her tomorrow, and I can't wait. This month has been such a roller coaster for me that it's definitely time to go blow off some steam.
