All these years later, I remember almost every little detail, of what I had gone through all those years ago, when it comes to my brain tumor. Today in fact, when my children ask me, what it had been like for me? I end up focusing on all the positive things that had happened, it is about all the little things that I can find humor in now. At times, I still dwell on what could have transpired, it is my children that help me keep things into perspective.
My days in the hospital were finally coming to a close, I had been a permanent resident over a month. I was really getting sick of hospital food. I finally was going to go home, to sleep in my bed and have that peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I so longed for. So, much had happened to me, part of my hair was gone, I had to were a patch on my left eye, I had double vision for sometime after the surgery, and finally my face broke out all over, because of the reaction I had to the medicine. At this point, all I really wanted now was for my life to be back to normal.
When my parents arrived, my Mom tried to take my slippers off so I could put my shoes on, I did not want my slippers off, so I kicked her and told her “no, leave me alone”. She then proceeded to tell me I had to wear shoes, it was raining outside. I told her outright, I wanted to wear my slippers and my shoes. Dear me how was I going to get my shoes on over my slippers, my feet were swollen up like a balloon. Here I was sixteen acting like I was two, I can only imagine how my mom felt.
Please do keep in mind, I was on morphine, so the fact remains, I had no concept of reality right then. I basically ended up throwing a tantrum. What amuses me now, as I sit her telling my kids this story is how funny this must have been, as my kids laugh I can not help but laugh along with them. I realize now that I had many moments like this while taking care of my Mom, she too had tantrums, she was in-fact on a lot of morphine as well. Maybe, this is why I was meant to take care her, she took care of me when I needed her most, now I am here for her in her dying need. There had been times, when it was hard for me to really grasp how she felt, but generally I did understand.
On that faithful day I arrived home, the first thing, I did was go into the kitchen and attempt to make myself that peanut butter and jelly sandwich I so desired. “Boy oh boy, what a mess I made”, first, I could not get the peanut butter all on in one spot, second, the jelly ended up ever else besides on the bread and last but not least, I then decide to make myself a cup of orange juice, needless to say the juice ended up all over the floor, but it was not alone I sat along with it. As, I sat on the floor crying all my Mom could do besides, not to laugh, was help me up, hug me and tell me someday soon I will be able to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She was right twenty-five years later, I am happy to say that I have become somewhat of an expert at it.