The Story Of A 29 Year Old British Girl Who Moved To LA To Make Her Dreams Come True; Only To Move Home To Care For Her Mother Diagnosed With Brain Cancer. Day-To-Day Thoughts, Updates, Love And Laughs (yes, I'm still allowed to laugh...)

Sunday, 27 July 2014

Reality Taking A Big Bite

After 5 hours waiting at Heathrow, I caught my flight up to Manchester. I feel I am always prepping myself; preparing myself for the worst and taking a deep breath to "put on a brave face." I performed this familiar routine and left baggage claim expecting to see my aunt and uncle. They weren't there, which is highly unusual as they are NEVER late. Instantly, your mind goes to the worst case scenario.  Was I too late? Has there been some emergency and Mum is in hospital? Why is no one here?

I tried to remain calm and called my aunt's house, no reply. I figured I'd give them another 20mins-traffic, surely? It was. They turned up and I had prepared myself for most things except how much everything had taken a toll on my Aunt. I knew how much stress she was under caring for my Mum, but seeing her cemented it. My aunt looked exhausted, she had lost a lot of weight, and seemed on the verge of tears; her hair longer than usual, because presumably, she hasn't had a second to think about her own well being.

The journey back to my mum's house was long, rainy, and filled with more mental prep. I knew I would see a change, I knew mum no longer communicated, but when faced with it, it can be a whole other thing.  I entered mum's house, the comforting hall way, the memories of Christmas' and happy, excited visits gone before, when Mum would greet me at the door with a banner saying "Welcome Home!" and kisses and cuddles galore. Now it is a very different feeling, and a very different sight.

The hospital bed remains the same large grisly reminder of the situation-whirling every 15mins to help prevent bed sores. And there is my Mum-my beautiful, talented, intelligent, loving Mum. M from next door is by her side feeding her a cup of tea and automatically stands up as I enter to take his leave. He gives me a sad look, which I ignore and emphatically exclaim " Mummy! I'm home!" She opens her eyes and smiles-the best I can hope for and it means the world. M and M (neighbors of the year-actually millennium) are in and saying how happy they are to see me.

Mum's poor, battered body is covered in red welt-like areas. I asked my aunt what they were. Due to the steroids Mum is on, her skin is very thin meaning even a small scratch can result in blood loss and severe scarring.

Everyone left and I sat with Mum and stayed up until I couldn't stay awake any longer. It was a miserable journey over, but I was with Mum and I refused to be miserable with her-I am with her, she is with me, that is how it should be.

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