Friday, May 9, 2008.
I wish I could say that I remember every second of that day, but most of it is a blur. I had just finished taking my finals and I had been sick for months. Around 9:45 am my phone rang. It was my endocrinologist’s office. Due to the time of day, I figured that they’d just received a faxed copy of the hours worth of blood work I’d had done on top of all the other tests that my Endo had ordered. The exchange went something like this:
“We have all of your results and the doctor would like you to come in.”
“Ok, I’m done with finals so my schedule is pretty flexible.”
“Good. How soon can you get here?”
The only thing that let me know I wasn’t dying was that my endo wanted me to go to her office and not directly to the hospital. In retrospect, that wasn’t really a safe bet since her office is across the street from a hospital. I let my parents know that I was going. Mom said she’d leave work to meet me there, but I felt like this was a trip I had to make on my own. I know that sitting at work that morning must have been hell on my parents, but they let me do this my way.
My endo came in the room, sat down next to me, and gave me the news. We finally had a diagnosis - I was diabetic. She went on to explain what I’d have to do to take care of myself from that point on but I wasn’t really paying much attention. All I was thinking was “Mother’s Day is Sunday.” I considered not saying a word about it until after the holiday was over. I didn’t want to ruin mom’s day. I also knew that mom would know what my doctor said without me having to say a word. I went to my parents’ office after the appointment and gave them the news. They listened. They looked scared and yet relieved to finally have some sort of an answer as to why I’d been so sick. They only had one question for me: “how can we help?”
But this isn’t just about what happened that day or the days since then. This is about there never being a moment in my life when my mom hasn’t been there (daddy, too, but he’ll get his own post in due time). She’s held me when I cried even when it was over something undeserving of my tears. She let me make my own mistakes even if they lasted a little too long. She’s stayed up with me while I was studying just in case I wanted a snack or a hug. She calls just to check in on me and see how I’m doing especially when she knows I’m stressed out. She very gently asks how I’m feeling without harping on it or making me feel like I'm a sick person. The day I had to go to the hospital to have a barium test and follow it up with an echocardiogram and treadmill stress test? She went with me. The day I had to have a glucose tolerance test? She kept me company. The day I had the 4 hours of bloodwork done? She was with me. She even took me shopping beforehand.
Of course, our relationship is far more than her always being there for my medical issues. We have our traditions. Most of which involve us laughing like fools the whole time. Prior to my college career getting so insane, we had season tickets for the local theater and saw some amazing shows together. If I have concert tickets, odds are, mom’s coming with me. We go Christmas shopping at 11 o’clock at night and end up giddy and hyper. We also tend to end up at whatever doughnut shop is open when we’re done. We have fun doing absolutely nothing. She really and truly is my best friend.
Today, I couldn’t go to my parents’ house to celebrate so they came to my place instead. Within a few minutes of being here, mom was dusting. On her day. Because that’s just the kind of mom she is. We ended up ordering pizza for dinner. If there’s anything worthy of blowing my carb counts out of the water for, it’s a day celebrating the strongest and most amazing woman I know. As I’ve gotten older, I realize that every day I’m getting more and more like her and honestly, there’s no one else I’d rather be.
I love you momma. Happy Mother's Day! xoxo
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