Friday, June 8, 2007

My mother calls me a lot

She's worried about me. I think she feels better now that she visited me at the end of April after surgery and saw with her own eyes that I can walk up and down stairs. That I am not pale and pitiful. That I look pretty much the same (though I have lost some weight, Woo Hoo!).

But she still calls a lot. I bet I get most of the phone calls now, even though I have four other siblings (two brothers, two sisters). Maybe she feels guilty. Does she wonder if she passed on some "cancer gene"? Or does she think, My God, one of my kids could die before me? Or is she just a caring mother?

I'm not a mother, so I don't know. I don't know how it feels to have a kid with cancer. Louie, our Petite Bassett Griffon Vendeen, had cancer, and it was scary. I didn't call him all the time. But he does live in the same house.

It is sweet; she can't hear though. When she visited me, I spent a lot of time repeating myself. I'd sneeze, and she'd say, "What was that!!!?" And I'd say, "I just sneezed," And she'd ask, "What!?" And I'd repeat, "I just sneezed." When the phone rang, and I was indisposed, I yelled down to her, "Pick up the phone." Over and over and over. She never heard me; it hurt the cut (nearly 7-inches) in my belly to yell. When I went downstairs, I said, "Why didn't you pick up the phone?" Because she hadn't heard it ringing.

She's great at finishing crosswords though.

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