‘I LOVE YA, THERE’S NO ONE ABOVE YA, BUT I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF YA”

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I’M GOING HOME TODAY! IN A BLIZZARD! HAVING SPENT ONLY THREE OF MY MOM’S TEN DAY VISIT WITH HER!

FRIDAY: LUNG SURGERY AT RIDICULOUSLY EARLY HOUR. BABBLE INCOHERENTLY FROM ANESTHESIA UNTIL PARENTS MUST LEAVE.

SATURDAY: “IT WAS MALIGNANT STAGE ONE CANCER! THANK GOODNESS WE CAUGHT IT EARLY!”

MONDAY: “IT WASN’T MALIGNANT STAGE ONE CANCER! IT WAS THE RHEUMATOID NODULE YOU SAID IT WAS! BUT YOU AND THE TUBE INSERTED INTO YOUR CHEST MUST STAY UNTIL SMALL LUNG HOLE SEALS!”

WEDNESDAY: “THE SMALL HOLE’S BIGGER!”

THURSDAY: I LOSE IT. NO PEACE. NO MOM. NO CATS. NO FOOD. NO HEALING.

IN THE WEE SMALL HOURS OF FRIDAY MORNING: “WE’RE REMOVING TUBE! LUNG HOLE SEALED! I’M SORRY.

That’s all I needed to hear.

Lack of communication is unhealthy.

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