#trauma dumping into the void on tumblr dot com because my friends have their own shit and don't deserve to have me spewing this at them

[idontlikeem]

tw incoherency self-pity and discussions of cancer and medical stuff surrounding it, honestly this is just me being so whiny and i just need to get it out, but i'm talking about actual medical procedures and etc in here so if that or me being a terrible self-centered daughter is going to trigger you please don't read because i'm not censoring this or making it palatable.

i have had a little bit of a fraught relationship with my mom for my whole life, as i think a lot of eldest/only daughters do. there was friction when i was a teenager, there were (are) body image issues thrust upon me, there were expectations and unfair standards and as the only girl a bit of sexism mixed in with it all...the usual, you know. but once i graduated college and grew up a little we've had a much better relationship. i've gotten better at letting her stray comments about my weight and life choices roll off my back (mostly), and she's trying to be less overbearing and critical. i talk to her a lot, and i want to share stuff with her.

she's stopped picking up when i call.

it's not every time, but it's enough that i'm noticing. it's enough that i text to follow up. it's enough that my throat gets tight whenever it happens. aaaaand it's enough to make me cranky and petulant when i don't get a reply.

i have this blue armchair i bought a few months ago. it was my first big furniture purchase after i got divorced that wasn't a necessity and was just something i wanted, and i love it. the problem is it was a discontinued model and color from ikea, so there was no ottoman/footrest that matched that i could buy, and i've been looking for something that was at least a close match ever since, because i'm tall enough that even a chair and a half is not comfy for me to sit on for long periods of time without somewhere to prop my feet.

and i finally found one! it's not perfect but it was inexpensive and i like how they look together, so that's all that matters. come thru target, i should have started there tbh. so i wanted to show her since it got delivered today and i was able to confirm it was a match.

i facetimed twice and she didn't answer, and i texted asking if she was busy with no reply.

i got mad! i got pouty and texted my friends about how my mom barely ever picks up when i facetime her anymore, and i always have to follow up and ask what's going on and if she can talk, and it's annoying to me. as i was doing that, i was texting my dad asking if she was ok.

turns out yesterday she was in the hospital all day getting fluid drained from her abdomen. the chemotherapy she'd been receiving since last fall has recently stopped working, and her blood markers are skyrocketing and the tumors are growing again. she's started a new treatment, sort of a hail mary, but if this doesn't work that's kind of it.

we've always been buying time, but i'd stupidly let myself sort of...i mean, i didn't think she was going to be cured, that's not possible, but when a treatment is letting her sort of seem better, feel better, be out in the world and doing stuff and closer to 'normal'...it's easy to lull yourself into a sense of denial, like 'oh this is just how it's going to be forever'.

stupid. of course it wasn't.

and meanwhile i'm sitting here reading my dad's text about the procedure, about how she had to get 2.75 liters of fluid drained out of her abdomen and she's probably going to have to get a drain re-installed so they can do it at home again (she'd gotten it removed early summer because of how well the chemo was working, the ascites was all but gone), and all i can think is:

i want to show my mom my stupid ottoman. i want her to say 'oh that looks great! isn't target the best? why do we ever shop anywhere else. oh and it has storage! you could put your hats and gloves in there, or maybe even some extra toiletries.' i want to chat about a fucking furniture purchase and listen to her talk about how she's going to try it out when she comes to visit me next. i want her to keep me on the phone for too long, to the point where i get annoyed and make up a meeting so i can hang up.

it's not fair. i want my mom to be my mom. she's sitting at home so exhausted and dying and this is all i can fucking think about. it's not fair it's not fair it's not fair it's not fair.