I was a fictional controller in girls' time. Once, when I read a passage about my mother's illness and my daughter's twenty-four-hour bedtime bedtime, I was startled by the dark description. If one day I have to face such a difficult moment, how to get through it, I will shiver when I think about it.
Then, the day could not be hidden after all.
My sister called and said that my mother had a hard lump on her chest. The biopsy pathology report came out, saying that it was a malignant tumor and that it had to be removed immediately.
The day still came. People are middle-aged, work, children, families, everything has to do their own work, the mother suddenly fell ill, let us fall into a state of chaos.
The doctor said the mother had to remove her left breast. Think about how painful and how hurt it is to remove one breast that has nursed us. Quickly put down the work at hand and take leave to return to ma'anshan. Got off the high-speed train, dragged the suitcase and went straight to the hospital.
The operation runs from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. My sister and I leaned back on a hospital bench, reading seconds like years in fear. I remember when my father was diagnosed with a vicious disease, my sister and I were crying in the corridor of the hospital, when we were still young, and we could not accept such a cruel reality blow. Now that we have calmed down a lot, the key is that the prognosis of breast cancer is also very optimistic. But when we saw my mother pushed out of the operating room, she was groggy and sallow because of the anesthesia, as if she had just escaped from the hands of death, and my sister and I burst into tears again.
After the operation, it is necessary to continuously hospitalize and discharge, chemotherapy targeted therapy, etc., which will last for more than a year. In the beginning, my sister and I took turns staying up late to stay up in bed. The lights in the ward were not turned off, and I had difficulty sleeping, so I stared wide-eyed and waited for dawn. After staying up for two days, people are so tired that they can fall asleep anytime and anywhere. Later, I asked a nurse aunt to help.
The other two patients in the ward, one was an unmarried girl, the flowers were as delicious as ever, and one breast was removed. There was also a big sister in her fifties, too. The eldest sister said that breast cancer is mostly caused by poor mood, she is because her daughter who has just been married for two years was found to have uterine diseases and could not have children and was rejected by her in-laws, and she was anxious and angry to provoke this serious disease. Can't help but sigh, each of us came to this world, is a solo trip, sometimes full of flowers, sometimes the abyss.
After being discharged from the hospital, my mother recovered well, and then entered the chemotherapy stage of boiling people. Before the chemotherapy began, the patients in the three beds were in good physical condition because of a period of physical recovery, talking and laughing in the ward, laughing at the devil, and even taking off the hat on their heads, comparing whose bald head was the brightest. As soon as the potion entered the body, within half an hour, all the people withered, and the ward was silent.
Accompanying the days in the hospital, running up and down the hospital every day, back and forth, doing various examinations and treatments, tired to the point of paralysis, people become thin and can eat. In the face of patients who are often unnamed because of their poor health, they must be comforted. I often lament that accompanying the bed is a robbery that middle-aged people can't hide from, but if they don't have experience, it is not right.
Yesterday, an editor who had not been in touch for a long time suddenly left a message to say hello, and I told her about the recent anxiety. She said that it is not easy to have old and small. Middle-aged people are sympathetic. Taking care of the elderly is very tired, take care of it...
Middle-aged people feel sorry for each other, yes. One time, after chemotherapy, I took my mother home from the hospital, and my sister, who was also middle-aged, talked to me all the way about how her father was sick and struggled through those days when his scalp was tingling.
But after all, it can be passed. Bed companionship is a practice in middle age, the family hugs the group tightly for warmth, and it is the willow dark flowers that survive. Life is not like a Tang monk disciple xi tian taking the scriptures, defeating one monster after another along the way. (Mellie)