A Most Unlikely & Unwilling Parent

Have any of you loved your mother SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO much that you would do anything to protect her and help her and save her from the maws of death? Only to find yourself in a large moment of frustration where you just want to . . . well, tap her EVER so lightly and just . . . best to not even say it in jest.

Last night my mom started in with, "I don't know if I'm doing the right thing." Okay. Totally cool and understandable."

So I asked her, "What is it that you're not sure about?"

"Getting my breast removed. The doctor," she says. "The hospital. Do you think he's even a specialist?"

And I just looked at her. "I don't understand, Ma. What is it that's confusing you?"

And she proceeds to go off on a litany of things such as, "What if he's not a real doctor? What if he's not licensed to perform surgery on my breast? Am I going to the right hospital? I haven't taken my pills."

Mind you, it was extremely frustrating because I wish this outburst had happened sooner. This is how I know I probably wouldn't be a good care giver. But then if I didn't have other things to worry about, perhaps I would feel differently.

Needless to say I had a rough night. After managing to calm her down about the doctor, I wrote down the numbers on the back of her Medicaid and Medicaire cards and made her promise me that she would call to find out if Sloan-Kettering accepts those two types of insurance. Then I made her promise that if I get her one of those pill-minder thingies that she would keep it out and take them and fill it as it empties.

I am ashamed to say that I yelled at my own mother. I even counted the Tamoxifen pills she's supposed to be taking. She's only taken about 6 from a bottle of 60. I can't say I blame her. Considering the side effects of the medication I'm not so sure that I would take them if given that option.

Perhaps she just had one of those moments where everything was hitting her at the same time; this came on way too soon after I reminded her that I'm leaving NYC in two weeks to go back to Fort Lauderdale. It's also an awkward situation because I'm uncomfortable suddenly being thrust into the role of "family leader" and making decisions for my mother. That's not supposed to happen!!!!!! She's still quite alive and breathing and very vital; despite the fact that she's acting like she's friggin' 80! I mean, I have enough problems taking my own life into my hands, taking care of my health (or trying to) balancing work, relationships, friends, family. When did this become so hard? When did I become the one that reminds her to take her pills? And someone please tell me HOW the fuck do you transition from first-born son in a latin family to ALMOST become a surrogate dad/husband/brother?

FUCK!

Heavy sigh.