Whew, what a long day. Not a particularly good one in my eyes. We spent most of the day waiting in one capacity or another. The surgery itself was short. They couldn't remove the mass but got enough for a biopsy. The results should be in within a few days.

Maybe it's my medical background, maybe it's my practical side trying to prepare myself for the worst but to me the surgeon didn't seem overly optimistic. After conversing with my aunt, she told me that if the biopsy staged out high my mom had already said she wanted to enjoy her time. Even thinking that makes me want to throw up.

I've worked for hospice for 13 years. I know that quality is better than quantity. My brain knows that. I will be strong enough to deal with whatever decision my mom makes. However, my heart is screaming, I'm not ready for this. To be perfectly honest, it pisses me the hell off.

There were five of us total. I lost my brother in October of 1996 when I was 25. Then in January of 1997 I lost my dad. I was still 25. Then in November of 1997 right after I turned 26 I lost my sister. My mom and I are all that's left. I am 42. I do not want to have my entire immediate family gone. Am I whining? Maybe. But that's just where I am.

Sometimes I just don't feel grown up enough for the life I'm having to lead right now. I mean I know I'm old enough. I'm married. I've raised one child already and now I'm raising a grandchild. But somehow I don't feel adult enough to handle this. I am not ready to face my mother's mortality.

I need this to be treatable. I need her to fight. I need her to want to fight. And then I have to remember that this really isn't about me. It's about what she wants and what she needs. The thought of my mom being gone freaks me out. The thought of her suffering freaks me out more. So I guess I'll just sit here and wait some more and be miserable until we find out the answers.