How's your mom?
In a word? Angry. No, wait, I take that back. She is fucking angry. Two worder.
In March her favorite topic was how unfair it is that people with DUIs can drive and she can't. April's topic is how unfair it is that people can take Claritin and Benadryl and drive and she can't.
Not. Kidding. Not even exaggerating. Hour after hour after agonizing hour.
No matter how much she pleads, do not tell her the truth. You know, that a few months ago she had a craniotomy, that they removed 15% of her brain, or that just like before she can technically see but not process things on her left side, or gently suggest the possibility that most patients will eventually have seizures again despite antiseizure medication even though you know she won't, because OMG do not go THERE.
Have you talked to a tumor lately?
Yesterday, as I pushed Olive around in a cart at Target, (ignoring her cuteness, shopping, and agreeing over and over again on the phone with my mom that people who take allergy medication and drive should be beheaded,) I kept crossing paths with another mom who had a baby close to Olive's age. She was carrying her baby in an Ergo, and it seemed like every time I ran into her she was kissing the baby's head. I had this ridiculous urge to tell her that I have an Ergo too! In my car! That I also love absentmindedly kissing Olive's head as I shop! But that I can't do that and talk to my mom on the phone at the same time because Olive is all about phones and buttons and will not leave them alone and that I am not the shittiest mom ever just trying to be a good listener to my mom who has cancer. Do they make signs for that?
(Olive has declared nap time over. More to come, because there is so much more...)