A Thursday’s Phone Call

My mom called me two weeks ago and cried as she told me she wasn’t going to be able to make it to my sperm donor party. Then she said, ” I have liver cancer.” I paused. I told her I understood and not to worry about coming. I could hear how terrified she was as she cried. It was the first time I heard fear in her voice. I was in disbelief. My mom has cancer. My mom who is 54, who in my mind will live forever, who hasn’t seen any of her children marry or have kids, is dying. 

I was hopeful that my mom’s prognosis would be favorable. I drove to Minneapolis to take her in for a biopsy and then returned a couple days later for her oncology appointment to learn the result. My aunt, Hua, who is a nurse, flew in from Texas to be there with us. We found out it was advanced. The CT scan showed my mom had several tumors in her liver and a blood clot at one point that somehow her body miraculously healed. As the oncologist spoke, we knew it was bad.

My mom made the decision that day that she would not seek treatment. I didn’t know how to feel. I wanted her to fight in order to prolong her life so that she could meet my children, be there when I get married, etc. I wanted her to live for the things she would miss. It was selfish. I wanted her to fight because I would fight. I believe in medical miracles, but I knew it was her decision and I would need to respect and honor it.

The next day I laid in bed unable to get out. I wasn’t sure if I could put on a happy face for my sperm donor party. I was still at a loss about how I felt. I was frustrated with my mom for refusing treatment and further labs. Why wasn’t I sad? I hadn’t cried since learning about my mom’s cancer. As I scrolled through Facebook, I saw a post about when you would know it was time for your dog to pass and for a moment, I lost it and cried. I hit me that even though I know my mom is dying, I am not ready for her death and nothing could prepare me for it.