Today I had a surreal moment. I was with mum at her oncology appointment at the hospital and we were talking to her doctor about some of the new side effects she’s noticed with this new chemo treatment. During the conversation he bought up her blood tests and talked to the fact that her red cells were low, so they wanted to do a blood transfusion for her after her chemo session this week. He continued to talk through what happens and that was when I had one of those ‘listening but not listening cause I’m having a conversation in my head’ moments. I sat there and just thought, “Is this really happening? Are we really going through chemo and blood transfusions and needles?” Never in a million years would I have thought my family would go through chemo. I guess no one ever thinks that but, do they? But it was just a weird moment of ‘I don’t get life sometimes’. I sat there and watched mum’s anxiety slowly rise as he explained what they would do and that she would need to be in hospital on Thursday for about 6 hrs. 6 HRS. Well isn’t that just dandy! I’m preparing myself for a whirlwind of emotions from mum on Thursday and am praying that she just sleeps through it because it will be mentally and emotionally easier for her if she does. I’ll treat this session the same way I treat every session: prayer, too many cups of coffee, food, my journal, more food and chocolate. It’s what gets me through the day (I deal with the heart pulpitations and excess sugar later!).
After we left, we were supposed to go get a blood test for mum but I decided that we needed to sit and have some sugar instead, so I got us some cake and coffee and we sat and talked about Thursday and how cool it would be to sit and chill out with no distractions for 6 hrs, just listening to some music, doing a crossword and eating and sleeping. And just so you know, I’m not being sarcastic, that was our actual conversation. I decided to take a real ‘everything is super’ attitude and not give mum time to think about how long and draining the day would be. We would just deal with that when we got to it. We finished up what we had to do and as we were driving home dad called me to ask how it went, so I had to spend the next few minutes relaying the conversation to my dad while my mum sat next to me ‘talking’ to dad, which actually means she was telling me what to say at the same time that I was trying to answer dad’s questions. For those that know my parents, I’m sure you can imagine this scene well. But it got better! For whatever reason, both my parents seem to think that I’m medically trained and understand all the medical words that are used and know exactly how every single procedure happens. Don’t ask me why they think that because I don’t know. I’m not that smart, really I’m not, and you think they would know that being my parents and all. But no. And when I say I’m not that smart, I’m not putting myself down, just being a realist. I’m not a brain, learning doesn’t always come easy for me and I have what I call a ‘hit and miss’ brain. Sometimes things just make sense and I just get it. Other times, the most basic things go right over my head and I find myself having to go over something again and again and again. It is what it is, but my parents are convinced that I’m some medical expert and keep asking me questions I couldn’t answer, and I kept telling them that I didn’t know and would ask the doctor on Thursday. Fun times in the Halawe family.
But on a positive note, I’m finding myself writing more and more as a way to de-stress. And not just writing this blog or in my journal, but poetry and stories. I’m creating whole new worlds and characters in my journals and notebooks and it’s just a little bit exciting for me. I’ve got so many new people in my head because I’m creating characters throughout the day while I’m out and about and when I meet people, so I find myself stopping and writing down notes in my book. Good fun and I’ll probably post some of them up at some point. And before anyone points it out, yes I’m creating stories and new worlds and characters as a means of escape and as a way of coping. My ‘hit and miss’ brain didn’t miss that one.
Until next time, be blessed!
2 thoughts on “I don’t speak medical.”
Who knows, it may turn into a book, like my published two. 🙂 and that would be something.
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You never know! 🙂
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