May 25, 2012
And so it arrived. Surgery day. The day my bestie had both of her breasts removed from this awful disease. The last couple of months have been a bit of a blur. I can’t imagine what they’ve been like for Dani. It seems like leading up to this moment, every day has been filled with doctor’s appointments, research and bombardment of information. All to arrive here.
I was out of bed at 5:30 am. I’d be lying if I said I “got up” as I’m pretty sure that requires you to sleep before hand. Hammie the hamster decided he would run on his wheel all night long thinking about the outcome of today.
With the fur brushed off my teeth away I went…in my pajamas. Don’t judge. In case you haven’t figured it out by now, I am soooooo not a morning person. Arrived at the house just after 6.
I walk in the door and am in desperate need of caffeine at this point. The boys are already up and I need to put a game face on. Water boiling. Feed boys.
Next thing you know it’s time. Dani is on the floor hugging and kissing her babes and telling them how much she loves them. The courage she is demonstrating is fearless. Me on the other hand? I have to excuse myself because I’m a sappy mess and don’t want to alarm the boys.
It’s now my turn. We hug. Words escape me. “I luvs ya sista” are the only words I can find. How eloquent. And they’re out the door.
I’ve got a play date planned for the boys before Poot (who is 5) is off to school for the afternoon. Diaper change. Dressed. Snacks packed. Bags packed. Pee. Negotiations with Poot. Load up the truck. Lock GarBear (15 months) in car seat. Poot snapped in. Dammit! Did I get their hats? Back in house. So this is why Dani is never on time.
Finally we’re off. I’m trying to keep the boys busy enough so there are few questions but not make it so out of the ordinary that it actually raises more. We’re off for a play date at the park. It’s chilly but works out well and gets us through the morning.
I don’t realize how quickly time has passed. As in dangerously close to school time for Poot and apparently there’s this thing called lunch. Chip truck it is! Cause that’s an every day, keeping with routine thing, right? Oh man, maybe I’m not cut out for this.
I forget that Poot is the slowest.eater.ever. He’s more interested in everything else than his food. Fuck me. At what point do I just tell him to zip-it and eat? Yup. Up before the sunrise now in effect. Basically I cut things short and get them in the truck.
From the chip truck to the school (that I only know the general vicinity of – cause why would I ask for an address) is a 15 minute drive. Basically when Poot needs to be there. I can do this. We’re on our way.
Miraculously I find the school fairly easily (and by that I mean I was guided by a 5 year old). Shit! What do I do. GarBear fell asleep. The school is only 50 feet away from the car. Do I run Poot in and leave Gar in the car? But this is my first time at the school. I don’t want to be judged. But the poor lil’ duker. Gah!
As gently as possible I lift Gar out but he wakes up. Sort of. Bring Poot in and the receptionist already knows who I am. I give her my phone numbers (even though Dani has already done this) just in case. Hug Poot good-bye…if that’s what you call a throw-your-arms-around-while-running-off-to-find-my-friends-at-the-same-time-motion. Back to the truck Gar and I go.
In no time he’s asleep. My mind is drifting to Dani. Is she ok? How is her surgery going? Did they get all of the tumour? What if something goes seriously wrong and I lose my bestie? Tears start to flow.
Before you know it we’re parked and I’m again trying to get Gar out of the truck without waking him. Didn’t know the truck had auto-pilot. This time it works. I’m actually able to get him out, wander the store aimlessly, purchase a gift AND get him back in the truck; all awhile the babe sleeps soundly.
It’s now 2ish. My phone rings. Shit. Please don’t wake him. Please don’t wake him. “Oh hi, this is Anderson’s school. He’s complaining of a stomach ache and with all that is going on today, well, we thought we should call you.”
Back to the school I go.
Within 56 seconds of Poot being in the truck he has made an extraordinary recovery and was wondering if he could have some of the candy that is in the top cupboard. There better be something stronger than just candy in that top cupboard for me let me tell ya!
The house is only 3 minutes from the school. I hear from James. “All went well. She’s out of surgery.” Relief sets in as much as it can.
Back at their place Dani’s sister is waiting to take the boys for a sleepover – aka nap time pour moi. We chat in the cul-du-sac. A few neighbours come out to ask about Dani’s status. Updates given. Aunt Paul packs up the kiddos and they’re off.
By this point it’s 4ish. I head inside to clean-up a bit so James doesn’t walk in wondering when the bomb hit Casa Thuot.
I’m JUST about to walk out the door when he texts me.”There’s a delivery of food that is to arrive and they need someone to sign for it. Can you stay?” Like I would say no. It’s to arrive before 7. No problem. Today is not about me. It’s about doing anything I can to help.
As luck would have it we’re the very last delivery of the day. Just after 7. Needs to go straight into the freezer. Of course there’s no room in the freezer. Why would there be? That’s just what I want to be doing at 7:30 at night is re-organizing the freezer. I have to remind myself that this isn’t.about.me. Stop being so selfish. You’re not the one lying in a recovery room right now.
By 8:30ish I’m on my way home. Exhausted. But I need a release. Capturing the day – at least to some level – is what I need to do. It’s my release.
In the same way I started the day, a text to my bestie: luvs ya sista.