In my last blog post I wrote about stopping my anti-depressants.
Life has a very wry sense of humour.
I stopped my anti-depressants last Friday….
On Wednesday my Mum went in for what should have been a routine surgery. Should have been. I got a call from my Dad afterwards that all went well and she was okay. She’d gone in to have her lungs drained of fluid (3rd time she’s had this done in recent times).
An hour later Dad rang me crying. She’d gone into a coma and they didn’t expect her to wake from it. They’d also found extensive lung rigidity indicative of advanced lung cancer (mesothelioma).
I raced up to the hospital in shock. She came out of the coma, but was on life support. We didn’t know if she’d make it through the night.
Thursday (yesterday) I went up to see her. Only to be met by my Dad saying that she would never be able to breathe on her own again, and that we needed to say goodbye to her.
How do I even find the words to describe yesterday…
I’ve never known a pain like it.
Obviously we all expect our parents to die one day, and as they get older that becomes more timely. But I don’t think it’s ever something you can really accept. It’s like it’s something that happens to everyone else’s parents, but was not allowed, COULD NOT be allowed to happen to your own. It feels like your parents are special, mean more, are closer to you.
So many tears were shed yesterday. So many so that I can barely see today.
The pain was physical and visceral. Seeing my brother crying. Seeing my Dad crying (I’ve never seen him cry before).
Seeing my Dad say goodbye to my Mum after almost 50 years together.
Saying goodbye to my Mum and walking out of that room was the most painful thing I’ve ever done in my life. Believing it was the last time I would ever see her.
I was very blessed that I did get to see her again today. She’s currently in surgery in last ditch attempt to save her life. To see if they can remove the hardened lung tissue so that she can breathe on her own again.
Time is standing still right now.
I feel like a different person than I was Wednesday morning. I am a different person.
As is usually the case great growth has been thrust upon me.
I just see the world differently now. I am even more aware of people’s suffering.
I may have started this blog as a direct result of my own experience with divorce, and the pain and suffering I went through. And the desire to help others with their own suffering.
And the events of this week have only made my heart even bigger and my empathy even deeper.
Maybe in the end that’s really the purpose of the suffering – to further my empathy and ability to help others.
PS You have a very weird sense of humour universe.