To whomever is out there and in charge -- thank you.
I might have felt pretty good about the whole day if (a) I didn't have to wake up at 5.15am to get to the hospital and (b) my mom's old friend didn't keep scaring the living shit out of me with talk of wigs and anti-nausea medication and other chemotherapy-induced horrors.
I call this friend "the vulture" -- any time someone is sick, or dies, she swoops in to "help," and so today she insisted on sitting in the hospital with me. I tried to politely tell her yesterday that her attendance was not desired by either me or (more importantly) my mom, but she was actually already in the hospital by the time we got there. And she talked. The. Whole. Seven. Hours. She even found me at the Star.bucks. Apparently, making me homicidal is part of her "helping" strategy. Not sure how me incarcerated for murder helps my mom, but I guess it's her strategy for becoming indispensable.
So I am having a drink while my mom sleeps, and just trying to let it go.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Mom's screen came back ok, so be happy. And I am happy. Really. I am so enjoying this quiet time so I can actually think about how grateful I am that this went well.