Mama Update and How Everything Is Falling Into Place
My mom's surgery has been scheduled for November 18. All of us were extremely relieved to have a DATE and a PLAN. Within hours of having the date set, I got myself booked on flight to Seattle. I fretted about leaving Chris alone with the kids (and dog) and worried what we'd do with Emma during the day, how Chris would manage to pick up the kids on time (the new school is close to home, which means it's further away from work AND it closes earlier--an issue only if the non-telecommuting parent is functioning solo). Plus, it would be stressful for him.
Whatever, I thought. We'll figure it out. For the FIRST TIME EVER, I just hoped shit would fall into place, because really? Going home to Seattle was non-negotiable.
And fall into place things did.
Blessedly, oh so miraculously, as I tried to find a non-expensive flight to Seattle, I found the PERFECT flight on Alaska that leaves Sunday night (Nov. 16). A nonstop on my favorite airline that would allow me to be with Chris and the kiddos all weekend long, until the last possible second, and with the time zone changes, I'd reach Seattle around 8:00 p.m. Oh, but a bummer, I realized. The only open seats were MIDDLE seats. And for a 6-hour flight, that simply would not do. So, I tinkered with other options, then came back to that Sunday night one. And then I couldn't believe my eyes---I could buy a first-class ticket with my miles. Oh, happy day! The idea of girding myself for what I predict will be a somewhat stressful week with a comfy flight (and yes, the prospect of free cocktails and wine DID cross my mind) took a degree of fretting away. The free checked baggage, being able to dodge parking fees with the Sunday flight---this ticket was becoming the bargain of the century.
So, all I had to do was book a return flight home. I managed to snag a direct flight to DC (coach, alas) for a reasonable price, and I felt so relieved. Flying across the country that close to Thanksgiving is not a cheap endeavor, but I got lucky, lucky, lucky. (And no middle seat!)
The next day, I learned that my wonderful in-laws had changed their Thanksgiving flights out to Maryland and will be arriving more than a week earlier to cover the kids, dog, and household while I'm gone. I was so relieved, I almost cried. To be able to go to Seattle and not worry about anything on the home front . . . well, I hadn't realized how stressed I was about it until that worry got lifted away.
Next, there was . . . work. Well, my boss gave me the green light to do whatever the heck I wanted. Which is awesome. And yes, I realize how lucky I am to have this kind of flexibility. I figured I'd do a mix of telecommuting and vacation time, but she pointed out that caring for a relative is covered by sick leave (every once in a blue moon, living in a hyper-regulated state like Maryland pays off--this is, I believe, a state law that Chris's charming employer fought tooth and nail against). I need to run it by HR, but it looks like I can probably use a combination of vacation time and sick leave to cover the trip, which has an obvious nifty outcome: I get paid.
Everything fell into place so quickly, I was left sort of stunned. And quite grateful. Knowing I can just focus on Mums when I get to Seattle is such a relief.
Finally, Mums learned that she can stall on radiation until after Christmas. This was enormous news, because my folks have been planning FOR MONTHS to come to Maryland for Christmas. They're both really excited to see the grandgirls (and, apparently, Chris and me, but I'm convinced it's mainly the little girls drawing them out here). Major disappointment all around if they couldn't come. Predictably, Mums and I worried excessively about this. But we got the happy news, and their December trip is ON. Yipee!
So, the Mums plan. She has another MRI scheduled to double-check that the tumor is where they think it is and ensure nothing else looks bad. On Nov. 18, the surgeon will take out the evil cancer, along with some surrounding tissue and lymph nodes. After that, she'll undergo daily radiation for either 3 weeks or 6 weeks (to be determined).
We're optimistic this cancer thing is just an inconvenient blip on the Opp family trajectory of living life, a jolt for us to get our Be Grateful shit together, not take Mums (or anyone else) for granted, and a reminder to check our boobies.
Whatever, I thought. We'll figure it out. For the FIRST TIME EVER, I just hoped shit would fall into place, because really? Going home to Seattle was non-negotiable.
And fall into place things did.
Blessedly, oh so miraculously, as I tried to find a non-expensive flight to Seattle, I found the PERFECT flight on Alaska that leaves Sunday night (Nov. 16). A nonstop on my favorite airline that would allow me to be with Chris and the kiddos all weekend long, until the last possible second, and with the time zone changes, I'd reach Seattle around 8:00 p.m. Oh, but a bummer, I realized. The only open seats were MIDDLE seats. And for a 6-hour flight, that simply would not do. So, I tinkered with other options, then came back to that Sunday night one. And then I couldn't believe my eyes---I could buy a first-class ticket with my miles. Oh, happy day! The idea of girding myself for what I predict will be a somewhat stressful week with a comfy flight (and yes, the prospect of free cocktails and wine DID cross my mind) took a degree of fretting away. The free checked baggage, being able to dodge parking fees with the Sunday flight---this ticket was becoming the bargain of the century.
So, all I had to do was book a return flight home. I managed to snag a direct flight to DC (coach, alas) for a reasonable price, and I felt so relieved. Flying across the country that close to Thanksgiving is not a cheap endeavor, but I got lucky, lucky, lucky. (And no middle seat!)
The next day, I learned that my wonderful in-laws had changed their Thanksgiving flights out to Maryland and will be arriving more than a week earlier to cover the kids, dog, and household while I'm gone. I was so relieved, I almost cried. To be able to go to Seattle and not worry about anything on the home front . . . well, I hadn't realized how stressed I was about it until that worry got lifted away.
Next, there was . . . work. Well, my boss gave me the green light to do whatever the heck I wanted. Which is awesome. And yes, I realize how lucky I am to have this kind of flexibility. I figured I'd do a mix of telecommuting and vacation time, but she pointed out that caring for a relative is covered by sick leave (every once in a blue moon, living in a hyper-regulated state like Maryland pays off--this is, I believe, a state law that Chris's charming employer fought tooth and nail against). I need to run it by HR, but it looks like I can probably use a combination of vacation time and sick leave to cover the trip, which has an obvious nifty outcome: I get paid.
Everything fell into place so quickly, I was left sort of stunned. And quite grateful. Knowing I can just focus on Mums when I get to Seattle is such a relief.
Finally, Mums learned that she can stall on radiation until after Christmas. This was enormous news, because my folks have been planning FOR MONTHS to come to Maryland for Christmas. They're both really excited to see the grandgirls (and, apparently, Chris and me, but I'm convinced it's mainly the little girls drawing them out here). Major disappointment all around if they couldn't come. Predictably, Mums and I worried excessively about this. But we got the happy news, and their December trip is ON. Yipee!
So, the Mums plan. She has another MRI scheduled to double-check that the tumor is where they think it is and ensure nothing else looks bad. On Nov. 18, the surgeon will take out the evil cancer, along with some surrounding tissue and lymph nodes. After that, she'll undergo daily radiation for either 3 weeks or 6 weeks (to be determined).
We're optimistic this cancer thing is just an inconvenient blip on the Opp family trajectory of living life, a jolt for us to get our Be Grateful shit together, not take Mums (or anyone else) for granted, and a reminder to check our boobies.
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