Dedicated to My Mom


I am not a mom so I don’t fully understand this, but I can only imagine having a child that is chronically ill cannot be easy. My mom has probably seen and experienced things that no mom should have to experience. She did not sign up for this, but has volunteered countless hours, sleepless nights and unconditional love and devotion. She has been a nurse, doctor, therapist, and nutritionist just to name a few. I am 28 years old and still VERY much need my mom. Although, I have tried very hard to do this thing called my life on my own at times. The fact of the matter is.. I can’t. About three months ago I was going to have my first epidural. Although I have had countless procedures, I had never had this one. I didn’t really have to say much, but I called my mommy and said “I “think” I want you there.” I was trying to play it cool, like yeah, you can come if you want, but deep down I wanted/needed her to be there. Keep in mind this is a little difficult for me to admit because after all, I am 28 years old, and well I should be used to this kind of thing right? I have had hundreds of medical procedures. Wrong, with any new procedure there is a little anxiety, yes even for me, before any new procedure and surgery, I have the same fears as anybody else, it never really gets easier, it’s just called coping. And at this stage of the game, I really just don’t understand why stuff keeps happening. It is a slew of emotions. So, of course I want my mommy there. No questions asked, my mom says she will be there. Little did I know, she had already taken off work and had planned on being there anyway. Whenever we are at the hospital, in the event of me having surgery, a hospital stay, or a procedure, the hospital staff falls in love with us, mainly my mom. The nurses usually come in my room to take a break and talk to my mom. The nurses always hate to see us leave the hospital when it is time for me to go. The nurses love my mom because they don’t really have to do anything for me the entire time I am at the hospital. My mom instantly turns into a nurse and doctor during every surgery, every procedure, and every hospital stay. She memorizes my medicine schedule and stays on top of it. Before my IV meds deplete and machine beeps she is watching it to make sure the nurses come in before the alarm goes off. If you have ever been to the hospital, you know what kind of nightmare this is. Before the nurses and/or doctors come in for the morning I am up, bathed (by my mom), and dressed (by my mom, in a new hospital gown) before they can even ask for new bed sheets. I also go on my daily walks assisted by my mom before the nurses have to tell us to. We kind of have our own schedule and routine every time I am in the hospital and the nurses and docs can’t even keep up, haha. I know I make it sound like much fun, but it is not. Never really fails, whenever I am in the hospital something always goes wrong, I have a severe allergic reaction, my vein usually bursts, and something usually drains, leaks, or swells on my body. My mom turns into super mom/nurse/doctor at a time when most would or could possibly break down and turn this into a time of depression and why us…again. My mom does what she has to do and makes sure I don’t lose my mind in the process. When I first had my ostomy surgery, I of course did not want to look at my ostomy or have anything to do with it. Even though my new body (my ostomy) saved my life figuratively and literally, I at first hated this new addition to my body with an intense passion. However my mom was not having it. She firmly but gently says “ Look, you are going to have to get used to this one way or another, look at it and get used to it and learn to love it”. I am of course paraphrasing but you get the drift. Yes, my mother was fussing in a way and at the time I was not trying to hear it, but did what she said. I was at the hospital during this scene and did not want to empty the bag. Prior to me doing it, my mom and the nurse would do it and I couldn’t watch or have anything to do with it although, yes it was attached to me. My mom could have possibly been perceived as being mean, and at the time I thought how she could say this to me. But this was anything but, it needed to be said, and was the truth, it was just simply tough love. I know a few people with ostomies and many have had to go to therapy to become adjusted. I can completely understand this, because it is a very tough adjustment. I can’t be anything but grateful because if it wasn’t for my mom I would not have embraced this new addition to my body like I did so quickly. I could have very easily gone into a deep slump because of my ostomy, and was probably headed in that way, but my mom encouraged me to snap out of it and snap out of it quickly. I love my ostomy not only because it saved my life, but because it’s a part of who I am and because I felt 150 times better , it gave me a new outlook on life. And yes, I sometimes take for granted how awesome my mother, well both my parents have been and are. They have ALWAYS been there, ALWAYS. I automatically assume that people that say they care about you are supposed to be there for you. I don’t think I have ever been to the doctor by myself, and if my mom or dad cannot be there, you better believe they make sure somebody will be there. I have been permanently spoiled by the awesomeness of my mother and father, and I cannot ever say thank you enough. So as you see, if it wasn’t for her selfless love and effortless support for me to embrace every part of who I am, I would definitely be gutless but I probably wouldn’t be glamorous

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