When I was a stubborn know-it-all kid, I fought a lot with my mother over small things. Yet we were still two peas in a pod and I cherished her. I still do. She is my soulmate. I know that without the slightest doubt. She's an old soul and I believe we were once bestfriends or sisters in our past lives.
When I decided to get married and moved half way around the world, she was my biggest supporter, but she was also the reason why I hesitated. I didn't want to miss out on our late night talks, our Oprah time, or simply the luxury of living under the same roof with her. Knowing that she was there, sleeping in her room or watching detective shows in our family room or sewing something in the dining room or attending choir practice at a neighbor's house or at a meeting at church was all I needed. I just always needed to know that she was there or somewhere, because if she was not there or anywhere then I'd crumbled to pieces. I would not survive. This I know. She was always there. She is always somewhere.
I am right now living a very good life. I have to admit that the Universe has been so absolutely great to my husband and I. Blessed is what we are. Nonetheless, when good things keep happening there is always a cynical negative thought lingering in the back of my mind, just waiting to destroy all the rainbows and butterflies. Then my minor accident happened and then I saw that major accident happened right before my eyes and I thought of how nothing is sterile from tragedy and disaster. Then my mother told me that she had to have an endoscopy because she had GERD or Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease.
In her case the disease caused dry cough and asthma-like symptoms. She had asthma since she was a baby so at first it was hard to determine if it was really asthma or something else. A visit to the doctor confirmed that it was acid reflux. A terrible case of acid reflux. It messes up her throat and larynx. An ultrasound was done to her esophagus to see how much damage the acid reflux had done to the area. Then an endoscopy was also performed. I still didn't read much into it up to that point, but then she told me that while the endoscopy was performed, they also took some tissue sample from the stomach for a biopsy. That word alone is more than enough to freak me out. My mother was not supposed to go through any of those shit. And I was not there. I am not there!
The endoscopy was done last Friday and the result came out yesterday, but the soonest that her doctor is available is on Thursday. Only he can interpret the result. I am ready to burst! I have never been such a nervous wreck. I feel like vomiting every time I think of this. I know I need to keep a positive attitude, but hell I don't even know how to swallow, let alone thinking positively. Fuck cancer. There, I said it. I hope it is not going to be the news I'm going to hear.
So I guess parents really are not invincible. I wish they were though. Children of all ages need their parents. At least I do. Even when I'm a hundred years old and senile, I am going to always need my mother. She'd be 126 years old and find me super annoying, but she should still be kicking asses. I need her to always kick ass.