Kansas plains

There went my phone again. It was lit up with my mom’s face as she was calling my cell. We were all set to head up to Kansas the upcoming weekend, and we were packing up suitcases for the long trek.

“Hi,” she said. “Well, I don’t have the best news.”

My heart sank into my chest.

“What?” I swallowed. “Were they able to run the scans and tests?” I asked.

“Yes, and there is nothing they can do,” she said. Her voice was the emptiest I have ever heard. It seemed to trail off as she spoke.

“Ok, so there isn’t a chemo concoction or a surgery or anything to remove the tumors?” I asked.

“No, they are too large, and they haven’t responded to chemo. There is nothing we can do at this point,” she said. Again, her voice was hollow. The hope she used to carry after every test that came back with unpleasant results, was gone. The wasn’t the usual hope of a new drug, a new chemo, or a new treatment of any sort. She had been through the chain of concoctions, and there wasn’t another one strong enough to fight off the cancer.

“They are keeping me to run some more tests tomorrow, so we won’t be in Kansas as early as we hoped. We will try and make it by Saturday morning instead.” In every thing she was facing, she was still trying to make it to her daughter’s bridal shower. Death? You can wait, sir. I have a celebration to attend, she must have thought.

Well, that’s ok. I thought. They will run the tests, and they will be there Saturday morning and all will be fine. They may not be able to cure her, but at least she’ll get to be with family.

As you guessed it, that’s not how it would play out.