Pulled me up

Today my dad and I took my mother to an appointment with her general practitioner. We weren't exactly sure what the purpose of this appointment was at first, but since I had to give her some paperwork to fill out for work, it was fine with me. But as to what exactly she was going to do for my mom, we were all a little confused. Kaiser scheduled it as an "office visit," but nobody (not my mom or my sister, who helps schedule these appointments) could remember the official reason for it.

However, once I met the doctor (I'm going to call her Dr. Holly), I knew instantly what the reason was, because Dr. Holly is awesome, and without this appointment, I'd probably still be as upset and confused as I was yesterday.

She sat down, and talked to us about the scary words the oncologist (let's call him Dr. Charles) had told us on Wednesday. She did not subtract anything from what he had said. She reviewed his notes, and talked about what a smart doctor he is, and how good at his job he is. She confirmed that he can be a bit clinical when speaking to patients. He was (and not really "a bit": he was totally a scientist in there with us, and that's a big problem; but we can ask questions, and now we know how to deal with him next time). And then she added something to the whole conversation that was new:

She added hope.

Look. This is rough. It's probably going to get harder. I'm keeping it vague still because for me that's a bit of protection from the truth (which I am not hiding from, but which I'm just not giving the time of day to, yet). But what she told us was, nobody here on earth knows when they're going to die. Not me, not you, not her, not Dr. Charles. Whatever happens from here on out, we're going to make my mom comfortable, happy, and she's going to have a life.

And that, my friends, was priceless.

Pulled Up - Talking Heads