Over the past week our family has been experiencing “the best of a worst case scenario”.
Two months ago my Mom had a colonoscopy that found a cancerous mass that needed immediate attention. Being that this is mom’s second time having surgery to remove cancer from her colon, the first was 20 years ago, we were all rightfully worried. This time around, unlike the 8 inch scar from surgery #1, it would be arthroscopic — far less invasive — yet still very scary given that she’s 79 years old next month.
We held our breathe awaiting the CT scan results. We collectively exhaled when it came back “contained”. Once again, a precautionary colonoscopy would save her life.
We are thrilled to be able to take her home today, after 8 days at St. Paul’s Hospital where she received incredible care day and night.
Mom has been in a ward with three other beds, she in the one by the window overlooking English Bay from the 10th floor.
While two of the other three beds saw the people come and go…the man in the “next bed” was in from her arrival, and is still there. We chatted on my daily visits, he is kind and gentle in his tone and concern for mom. Yesterday when I went in, it was clear that he had undergone another surgery (He has Chrones) and his moans were heart-wrenching. He’s had many visitors, so this is not a sad post of loneliness — however, I’m worried about him. His great attitude and calm were a steadying force for our family and yet, here he is struggling to re-gain his health.
As we gather our mom’s belongings, and get set to happily take her home, we send love light and healing vibes to the Man in The Next Bed.
Hug your family and friends — and above all, value your health.