I say that not in partiality or convention. She is truly an open soul.
I really only consider my adult life to encompass the last five years or so. Everything before it was fumbling around figuring myself out.
That's what happens when you live in the never-never land of New York City straight outta college (and, I utterly recommend it). But, since I can recall, my mother has never questioned my actions.
I suppose that trust could be manifested in the notion that she knows me, and trusts that I can make the right decisions. Of course, that's silly because I've made plenty of bad ones.
But the days when I treaded home on a plane, exhausted from working 24/7 at an insane ad agency with my eyes sopping and roads of mystery ahead, she makes me feel better. She plans my wedding and makes it perfect. She stays with me my first week in Denver -- while hubzo wraps up in Brooklyn -- and makes my apartment magically fatten up with furniture while I question my nerves. She buys me fancy champagne bottle dressings that only I and my friend Krispy can appreciate. She motivates me to ask for more money in my offer letters. She accompanies me to thrift store after thrift store where we find treasure together. She makes burritos so memorable that they require shipping in mass amounts. She navigates the Upper East Side way better than I ever could. She knows how to not get stiffed by a cabbie. She always wants to get ice cream with me.
I know she does this for lots of people. Growing up, she mothered so many people. I used to get calls on my personal line from boys who "wanted to ask my mom a question". (I don't think it was a line either.)
She baked cookies for every single baseball game I served as manager for during high school. I would jump on the bus and pass the tin of cookies around, everyone devouring them. I haven't been in high school for nearly 15 years and she still does this for the local football team.
She sends hubzo peanut-butter themed care packages that light his eyes up more than watching Game 4, 2004, Dave Roberts steals second. She keeps my father in line. She loves her dog. She genuinely... is genuine.
And, it's about time she got something back for it.
We learned today that mom is very likely a candidate for a liver transplant. I cannot express how frightening this is, but also how much it could mean for our lives. There are many, many hurdles to jump... and this entire option could be stolen away from us next week if the transplant board decides against moving forward. This could happen. However, mums and dad had a fairly reassuring and lengthy discussion with the transplant team at Mayo today, and they agree she will likely pass the next test toward becoming a transplant patient.
If the board agrees to the surgery, she will go through a 2-week period of intensive testing at Mayo to ensure that all other body parts are healthy and working appropriately. One must meet very strict guidelines regarding immunity, etc, to receive a transplant. She will require both chemo and radiation, as well. My dad said the radiation will take place two times a day. Ugh.
Tomorrow, they meet with the oncologist to discuss chemo.
And so, as my father said earlier this evening: "we'll run with it." Transplant it is. At least, we hope. The other treatment options are not encouraging, so we need this to work.
Mayo is the place for us. Dad was overwhelmingly pleased with the surgeons from the transplant team. They, in turn, reassured mom that she was where she needs to be. The team has already completed more than 50 transplants of this type this year. Mayo is the only facility in America that provides cancer liver transplants.
Mom sounded tired, but OK. She is ready for the fight. She knows these are the next steps. I admire her resiliency and ability to comprehend this with such grace.
Many days and months ahead to ponder. Looks like a little fairy is redirecting our auras to Rochester for a semi-permanent stay. It's time to go yellow to celebrate her recovery. Join me.