Tick Tock Tick Tock..when the time comes.

(Who's hand will you reach out to hold when they need you?)

As I write this, I am sitting in the hospital waiting room of the Methodist Children’s Hospital. My 15 year old brother was diagnosed with appendicitis (in picture) this morning and is currently in the operating room getting his appendix removed. After the abundance of health issues that have presented themselves to my family over the past two years, I’m not sure what else could go wrong.

Removal of the appendix is a fairly standard surgery; the surgeon said he does between 12 and 15 appendix removals a week. And still, with the requirement of general anesthesia, the surgery possesses a certain degree of risk. As we sit and wait for the doctors to come in and tell us its ok, I think back on how to people in my family have dealt with various illnesses.

My mind first wandered to my grandmother’s situation that began over 2 years ago. Mamoo was the first in my family to be diagnosed with cancer. She was told in Fall of 2005 that she had breast cancer and would have to undergo surgery. This was a huge shock for my family and frightened us all immensely. We had never experienced cancer so close to home and now it was knocking at the door, on its way in. Mamoo, I must say, is one of the most compassionate, kind and genuine people I have known. She has spent her life taking care of my grandpa, Pawpaw, and their children and likes nothing better than bringing a smile to the faces of her loved ones. She was not used to being taken care of, so it was a change for her to step back and allow others to help her. (Breast cancer ribbon pictured is a symbol of strength and hope of a cure in the face of such a devastating disease.) A few months later, after her cancer had gone into remission and she was feeling well again, my grandpa and aunt were both diagnosed with cancer. Her role changed dramatically. During her cancer, Mamoo “had to be helped. Now, what [she is] ready for is support, for a process [she has] set in motion ourselves. So [she] reached out and received it eagerly” (146). She had to accept the changing of roles and readily take on the task of once again, being the caregiver.

In the wake of the medical turmoil that has encompassed my family, I often wonder what lies ahead for us. I have mentioned before that it is no longer a question of “if” as much as it is a question of “when” the disease or illness will catch up to me. This is a fairly depressing thought, however also fairly realistic. Thinking about this can drive you crazy. It could drive anyone crazy. We live in a world where people live their lives as if they are invincible; nothing can happen to them. But I know this is not true. I do not know what lies ahead but “if we accept Not Knowing, we’ll be less likely to get caught in models or theories, or attached to seeing things work out the way we’d like…our willingness to accept the unknown gives us courage. We can trip, fall, get lost…and still get up again and look around and start out once more” (208). Through this accepting, I can live my life with a certain degree of comfort, knowing that no matter what happens, I can make the best of the time I have right now. (Picture is a good mantra for life and living in the moment!)

Well, my brother’s surgery is now finished. (This is a typical post operating room.)
He is in the post-operating room, drugged up, loopy, and exhausted. In a few hours, he will be awake and chatty and ready to take on the world once again. The healing process will slow him down, but I will be there. As his sister and his friend, all is can do is “ask ‘How can I help?’ with an open heart, and then really listen” (241).