Vantage points

The weird thing about being in a close family is acknowledging that we are all different and, like the post's title says, have different vantage points. So, this one comes from the snarky middle child. Here is my retelling of mom's diagnosis and craig's from the non-reclinable chair in the chemo ward of UCH:

Mom

She initially went into the hospital on July 23 after not being able to stand up and having severe incontinence. Like Erin said, they thought she had contracted some weird bug disease from a trip to the zoo in late may early June where she was bitten by a tick. I was house sitting, I think, and ran over to the e.r. once I got the message. I don't remember what day that was, but I remember sleeping in a god-awful hospital chair that night and getting so tangled up in the stupid sheets that I almost launched myself out when I put the foot rest down. I also remember having to give the nurses the same information over and over and mom telling the nurses that she had five children. That was hilarious! Scared, overwhelmed, numb, panicked. Felt all those things those first few nights. And that's when it was just supposedly west nile or something. The real news came via a phone call on Thursday afternoon while I was on the crapper at home. Figures. Mom called and asked if she could put Dr. English on the phone and I said yes, knowing that that meant it was NOT good. Dr. English asked if I was sitting down and I wanted to start laughing hysterically and tell her to get to the freaking point at the same time. "It's a tumor in her brain..." That's all I remember. I know we kept talking and I was crying and talked to mom again, but was so shocked that that's all I really heard. Mom and I cried, Dad and I cried, and then I called Erin and got the ball rolling with telling people. Brain tumor was never on our radar. And I could never have imagined then that I, that we, could have and are, enduring all of this. Cancer sucks. I'll write my version of Craig's story later.

D