Hold My Hand

Mom had gallbladder surgery the week before Thanksgiving. I remember taking a few days off so I could hang out with her until she was ready to go back to work.

We got up Wednesday morning to do the hospital thing. We checked in, Mom got wheeled around and we hung out until it was time for her to go. I went and hung out in the waiting room. My Uncle Richard came up for a while. It kept taking forever. They had said 1 - 1 1/2 hours. I kept aggravating the volunteer and finally Uncle Richard left around 1:00. The volunteer just said they were backed up and the Dr would be here soon.

After lunch, the Dr and his nurse finally came to the waiting room and began to tell me what they had found. I am in the middle of this large room, crying and trying to make sense of what they are saying. When I started to talk with them, I figured it was okay because they didn't make me go into one of the little rooms. They tell me the cancer is so involved they were not able to remove Mom's gallbladder and there are studs in her abdomen. They said that it looked like someone had blown dandelion seeds where they could see. After this, they leave and tell me Mom will be in her room soon.

I am completely shattered. I sit back down in the waiting room, by myself, crying, unsure what to do next, so sick I feel like I am going to pass out. And then, one of the women in the waiting room comes and takes my hand and tells me "Come on." She gets me something to drink and some crackers, she walks me outside, she holds my hand while I start to make calls. She stays with me until someone comes. I can't tell you what she looked like, what her name was, or why she was at the hospital that day.

The Dr had just handed me the worst day in my life, but in this day is a sweet memory of the woman that I do not know who sat and held my hand until I could feel hers.