Feeding Tube

My mom took out her feeding tube yesterday. No, nurse Mark, she didn’t take it out on accident. No, nurse Sarah, she didn’t do it just because it was uncomfortable. No, nurse May, she won’t do it again just to be ornery. She did it because a part of her wants to die.

Can I blame her? Can I blame her for giving up, knowing that she’s probably going to die within a year anyway? Can I blame her for wanting to just die from lack of food, instead of waiting for the tumor to slowly put her to sleep?

I can’t blame her. But I really don’t want her to give up yet.

The selfish part of me, the part of me that wants my mom to keep fighting, is also the part of me that thinks that if she keeps fighting, she won’t die. Or at least, that if she keeps fighting, it will give us long enough, and I’ll be ready. But will I ever really be ready?

She decided to let them put her feeding tube back in. And I gave a huge sigh of relief. Good. I have longer with my mom.

But any day, she could decide she’s done. Any day, she could decide that it’s too hard to fight, especially when you know you’re going to lose eventually. Yes, she’s going to rehab, for at least 3 weeks. But any day she could decide it’s too hard, too much, and choose to come home and die. And after rehab she could do the chemo and the radiation, or she could decide it’s too much, and choose to come home and die.

And I’m not ready for that. I’m not ready for her to choose to come home and die.

Everyday I think of something new that will be different after she dies.

Sometimes they’re small things. I won’t get a discount at Hicklebee’s when I want to order books. I won’t have my own immediate check-the-publisher-to-see-if-a-specific-book-is-in-print person. My dad will have to do the bills, the laundry, the dishes, the grocery shopping, the cooking by himself (which is hard enough with his back). My sister will have to walk Ruca on her own. Christine and Ben won’t get the needlepoint she was making for baby Miles. Sue won’t have someone to go out to lunch with.

But the big thing, the big thing that will be different is that I won’t have my mom. I won’t have my mom.

I won’t have my mom at my wedding. I won’t have my mom at Christmas. I won’t have my mom to walk me through having a baby. I won’t have my mom to help me raise my kids. I won’t have my mom.

I can’t believe its only been 10 days since everything changed.