Dodging a Bullet

As I lay here in my bed two weeks and one day after my surgery I am reading a book sent to me by my cousin Vee who I haven't spoken to in years. She lives in California and although we are a large family with 23 first cousins we are not close, geographically nor emotionally. I am enjoying the re-connection with some of my first cousins that have reached out to me although not under these circumstances. The Book I am reading is "A Cup of Comfort for Breast Cancer Survivors" and it a compilation of true stories from brave women who have fought this battle. I can not consider myself a survivor since I don't believe I was ever in the trenches. I dodged that bullet.
I am not brave nor strong, I am simply dealing with what is in front of me which is so manageable. These women are the true heroes who had to go through so much pain and uncomfortableness with Chemo and Radiation and worst of all , living with the uncertainty of not knowing if they will survive. My story is a paper cut compared to theirs. Perhaps its not such a good idea to read these books so close to my surgery where I am vulnerable and sensitive and the tears come easily.

Or is it because I am so upset that my mother woke up this morning and broke her leg near her hip area on the way to the toilet. She is 78 and a diabetic. She refused to allow my father to call the ambulance and only after an hour and a half of Aharon convincing him to call 911 did they take her to the hospital. She is in extreme pain and has been given morphine. My father and best friend Ruth is there making sure they are taking good care of her. We are hoping they will operate today or tomorrow morning and my brother Josh is on his way from Texas. She is a bad patient on a good day, now she will need to walk with a walker right after surgery and then go to rehab for a week. She doesn't walk more than 8 feet on any given good day so this will be a double challenge. One I am confident that Josh will succeed in. She was doing so well lately and really coming around after a 4 year battle of various ailments and depression. We had a breakthrough yesterday when she finally realized what a mess my father was making around the house. He has taken it over and she was livid. I thought it was like Rip Van Winkle waking up after 4 years and finally looking and seeing what was around her. I reassured my father that the yelling he was getting was a good thing and a good sign that she was getting stronger and more aware, not to take it personally (LOL).

I am more upset about this than my own surgery. I have been crying all morning picturing her in pain and Aharon can't seem to comfort me as much as he is trying. I hurt more when someone I love is hurting. That is why I was relieved that I got Breast Cancer and not my daughters or anyone else that I love. Even the volunteer ambulance driver told my mother he knew her daughter, Only Orly, and reassured her that I was a strong woman and would be fine with my Cancer. She let me know that everyone she has spoken with feels that way about me.

Again, it is not strength but the knowledge that so many are going through so much worse and hurting so much more and yet I turned into a little girl of 5 today crying uncontrollably because my Mommy was hurting.

Yes, I dodged a big bullet and am recovering in the nurturing arms of those that love me. Now those arms need to extend to helping my mother recover from the road that is in front of her.

Perhaps we will lay side by side as our husbands bring us breakfast in bed.