4-6 hours; that’s how long my mother said she would have to be at the White Plains Cancer Center for her first chemo infusion and set up for her “pod” and fanny pack/portable chemo unit.
I wanted to hop in my car and drive to her home so I could be there to take her to the center in the morning. I’d taken her to most of her other appointments. But, she told me not to come.
I have to do something, I thought. I feel helpless. I can’t take away her pain. I can’t make the Cancer go away. I can’t do anything but watch her fight.
These thoughts ran through my head as I boarded the wrong train during my evening commute. I didn’t even notice what I had done until the conductor looked at my ticket and said, “this train is headed to Broad Street.”
When the train pulled in the station I went down the stairs towards the light rail. Instead of getting on, I crossed the tracks and began walking. My cane stabilized me for a mile. Then, I found myself near the Rutgers Newark lacrosse field.
This is too steep, I thought. My back will hate this. I’m not even sure if I can make it to the top.
I looked at it again, put one foot in front of the other and began to climb.
I think being there for mom is like tackling this incline. I’ll need patience, steady effort, time and determination to keep her going when or if she finds this hard to face.
When I reached the top, I thought, I’m not sure how much she’ll need me. After all, she did her message to me this way, “So here we go!!!!! I’m just happy to get this going…. So we shall see how this all goes. I’m sure that all will go well.”
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