Thursday night, on my way home from work, I called my mom. She was all upset because her radiologist had prescribed a PET scan for her way back in June, and the girl at her doctor's office in charge of obtaining the authorization hadn't done her job. My mom wanted me to call them and find out what was going on. My mom wanted me to kick some ass.
But she was also upset with me, because I'd been out of the office most of the day, and hadn't known she had called me earlier with this request. My office is getting a whole new modern phone system, and the desk I was assigned eight months ago didn't have voice mail. No one answers my phone when I'm not there, so I was just calling her just to call her, and was unaware of the "state" she was in. She was in quite a state, actually: crying, etc. My mom takes these things hard. And, because she believes that until she has the PET scan, there is a chance that her cancer has come back, now that the test has been delayed, she's freaking out. She won't believe she's cancer-free until she gets the proof. The thing is, she doesn't seem to understand that she's going to need to undergo these tests for a long time - and her faith that she's cancer-free seems to be dependent on them. It's hard to see her like this. She has told me, my whole fucking life, how I should live my life with God, that I would be happier if I had faith, and here she is, totally doubting that she has been healed. For myself, I don't know how much faith I have. But if God is going to heal anybody, if it's even possible, she's the one. Do you know what I mean? Am I making any sense?
Anyway, I managed to calm her down with my usual mix of humor and common sense (what, you don't believe me?), and told her that on Friday, my day off, I would call and straighten everything out.
Right before I called my mom, I had heard a story on NPR about some guy who discovered that, in the last ten years of her life, Mother Teresa had written in her diaries that while she continued to believe in God, she no longer felt his presence.
OK, so that freaked me out a little.
Anyway, Friday morning I started calling the doctor's office. Of course the line was busy and it took a couple of hours to get through, but finally I did, and I spoke with the woman, Brenda, my mother has been dealing with. (Now, I have criticized my mom's doctor's office many, many times for their lack of professionalism and their horrible customer service, but my mom, who loves her doctor, has always defended them. Not so much anymore.) But, Brenda assured me that she faxed the authorization to the imaging place, and that on Monday, my mother could call and make an appointment. At this point, I guess I thought everything was settled, so I called my parents, and left a message with my dad.
My mom called later that afternoon to clarify the message but I wasn't home, and so didn't get back to her until yesterday.
She was still pissed. She wanted to know why I hadn't called the imaging place to confirm if they had received the authorization, and she wanted me to get the address. I hadn't done either of those things. So I told her I'd call first thing, Monday morning. I don't know. It was a weird call. I wish she would just chill out. I wish she had realized a month ago that her doctor's office wasn't doing what they needed to do, and called then, so she wouldn't be so upset now. I wish she would lean a little more on my brothers and sister. I wish I didn't feel that way.
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