Anger

Denial.  Anger.

I was going through the classic stages --so proverbial text book.  At first I was in denial.  Even the whole Red Cross fiasco was a welcomed distraction from what was going on.  I was able to focus on all those logistical things and not the reason.  Once I moved from denial I was angry.  Very angry.  And my anger needed some place to land --and so . .

I hated that doctor.  As his words were swimming in my head I was thinking, "How dare you!  This is our MOTHER you are talking about."  As my heart made that transition from denial to anger, I wanted someone to blame.  The doctor made it easy though.  His bedside manner was horrible.  He was so matter-of-fact and almost had an air of arrogance about him.  I hated him.  I thought, "Oh sure, you drop this bomb on us and you're going to speed away in your fancy sports car and go home to YOUR family.  How dare you do this to us!"

My oldest sister was taking charge --asking questions, putting herself in the forefront.  That is both her personality and birth order.  She was the oldest, she was establishing her authority.  My youngest sister didn't say too much.  I couldn't stand looking at her face --it revealed so much of her broken heart and I couldn't bare it --which is probably why I focused so much on the doctor's hands.  My step-father was standing behind us, still very close and listening to every word.

My sister Val asked one final question.  After the doctor laid out to us Mom's condition my sister Val asked, "What about the prognosis?  What can we expect?"  The doctor almost seemed annoyed at the question and he kept things short as if he were trying to end the conversation.  He was impatient and snippy.  He answered, "Prognosis?  There's just no way to know.  I told you, your Mom has a tumor in her brain and its growing and there's no way to remove it.  What else can I tell you?  We'll do radiation but you have to remember, the radiation kills cells --it kills good cells and it kills bad cells.  The radiation will slow down the tumor's growth but it will also kill her brain cells."

Anger!

Next we asked if we could see Mom and again being very impatient, the doctor said someone would come get us, "Anything else?", he asked.  No, that was it.  He whisked himself away.  We were left standing there--digesting this news.