Text message from my father to his siblings, 12/15/2015:
The MRI showed both tumors larger than they were 2 weeks ago. The doctors have determined to do surgery Thursday. The tumors can't be completely removed by surgery, as they have many "fingers" that grow out in all directions. Surgery will cut out much of each tumor, so that the radiation and chemo have less mass to work on. More info later. Thanks.
My dad sent that out after our family council experience, the first one we had all attended and weighed in on. After the family council my sister had to leave to drive back to her family in Wyoming. I felt like it was okay for me to leave too, but I didn't. I didn't want to. I was determined to stay until after she came out of surgery so I could be with my dad while we waited.
I felt guilty, though, because the peace I'd received during the prayers and decision making were still with me, but there were so many others who love her who didn't have that. I took many phone calls and text messages during this time between the decision and the surgery. Everyone was worried. Everyone wanted to show their support. Everyone asked how I was doing with such love and fear that I felt silly saying, "I'm fine," even though it was true. My Grandpa Newman came to visit my mom every day. My dad rarely left her side, and never for longer than was absolutely necessary.
Text message update from my dad to his siblings, 12/16/2015:
Surgery for Sara will be tomorrow at noon, and will last about 5 hours, then recovery will take a while. So I won't know really much until later in the evening. More updates then. Thanks all.
The thing my mom decided to worry about was her bangs. They were going to have to shave her head for the surgery, and she was VERY unhappy about it. She'd had her hair cut short once when she was maybe 9 or 10. It was a short pixie cut, made popular at that time by the model Twiggy. My mom loathed the haircut, mostly because people kept assuming she was a boy! From the moment it grew back she never had her hair shorter than her shoulder blades again.
And now they were going to shave it all gone. My assurances that no one would think she was a boy this time were not as comforting as I'd thought they should be. But I'd come to visit from Texas after she'd had the biopsy, and I'd come prepared. I may have possibly purchased one of every kind of cute winter beanie they'd had at Charming Charlie with perhaps some matching scarves and maybe possibly bought more than one color of the ones I thought she'd like best. So she wanted to keep her bangs, to have them showing out from under the hats to look more normal.
I learned yet something else new about my parents- my dad used to cut and style his friends' hair in high school. He took the scissors and comb I'd brought and went to work. He parted her hair to make her bangs thicker, wet the comb, and combed and snipped and straightened and shaped and did it all again. My contribution was to hold the rest of hair back and out of the way. And provide color commentary. I'm good at that. In less than ten minutes my dad has completely restyled and doubled the thickness of her bangs. My sister had braided mom's long blonde hair earlier and cut off the braid so we could keep it. Then she'd evened out the back and given my mom a bob. My dad styled the bangs to match the bob, and it looked GREAT. My dad, especially, was clearly impressed.
The children (my brother and I) were sent home to sleep, and my dad stayed at the hospital with my mom. It was a very strange night- this was the first time I'd ever spent the night at my parents' house in Payson completely alone, without even a dog. In the dark, all alone, knowing my mom was having brain surgery the next day, I sat in the living room and stared at the Christmas tree. Christmas Eve was one week away, but my feelings were so far from Christmas Eve excitement they didn't belong in the same universe.
Text update from my dad to his siblings 12/17/2015 #1:
Surgery actually started at 2:00 pm. We have been told it is a 4 hour surgery, and that Dr. Gardner is meticulous, so we are expecting 5+ hours. Then recovery, then to ICU for the next few days. Dr. Gardner will come out and talk with us right after the surgery, before recovery, so I can let you know his news. Thank you all for your prayers and thoughts and actions.
Have I mentioned that I have amazing friends? One of my favorite people went through this same trial a few years ago, and she has been a huge source of strength and love. And she, her husband, her mother-in-law, and two more of my favorite people got together and made a "Brain Cancer Care Package" for us. It was incredible. Knowing that my mom loves flowers, there was a beautiful orchid. Knowing she would be going into ICU after surgery and they don't allow flowers, it was a fake orchid. But it looked real.
There were also fruit, cheese, nuts, a huge warm and soft blanket, puzzles, board games, card games, books, music CDs, pens, journals, gourmet popcorn, fuzzy socks, lotion, bookmarks, hand sanitizer, trail mix, candy, and more. Some of it was clearly for my mom; most of it was to keep us busy and fed while she was in surgery. All of it was well thought out, considerate, and loving. I took a ton of pictures of the care package and its contents and sent them out to my siblings to share with them the support we were receiving. My sister said, "That is a great gift." My brother said, "That does my soul good."
I brought it all with me to the hospital that morning, so we could use it while we waited. I showed my parents. They were grateful for the love of good friends, but were clearly distracted. My mom held out her hand to me and I took it and cradled it in both of mine, leaning down close to her. "I've been praying all night," she whispered to me. I nodded. "I felt that the Lord would direct the hands of the surgeon just like he did for Elder Nelson when he operated on President Kimball, and would inspire him."
I squeezed her hands and said, "Good." I kissed her forehead and then the tech asked if he could get by so he could prep my mom. I stepped back, watching her.
"You need to tell the surgeon," the thought in my mind wasn't in my voice. I backed away from my parents and the tech to an open space on the other end of the room and looked upward.
"I guess it's a good thing I stayed, then," I countered, remembering the feeling I'd had about it being okay to go home now.
This is how I know the Lord knows me, personally. His response was perfectly tailored to me, my irreverence, and my sense of self. "Well, as long as you're going to be stubborn and stay I thought I should make use of you as mouthy. Tell the surgeon."
"I will," I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling grateful. Then I turned to the tech. "Can I speak to the doctor before the surgery?"
"I think so," he said. "Come down with us, and I'll find out."
While he was finding out, my dad asked me what I wanted to talk to the surgeon about. I told him what mom had said, and the instructions I'd been given after.
"Mouthy?" He blinked.
I smiled. "The word was mouthy, but the feeling of it was something closer to 'mouthpiece'."
My dad smiled at me and wrapped his arms around me. My brother patted my shoulder. Have I mentioned my family is very soft-spoken? Sometimes I think I'm there with them for those times when someone really needs to speak up. I'm embarrassed how many years it took me to tell the difference between when it was and was not needed.
The surgeon did come out to talk to us before the surgery, and I did get to pass on the message, after one careful question. "Do you consider yourself super religious?"
He smiled at me. "Well, I'm no General Authority, but I'm pretty religious."
That gave me all the context I needed to be able to share the message with him in a way that would make sense. When I finished, he was quiet for a moment, then said thank you. Then he went in to saw open my mother's skull and remove the cancer cells that were destroying her brain.
Text update from my dad to his siblings 12/17/15 #2:
Sara is out of surgery and now in recovery. The doctor said it went well. We have not seen her yet. The next 7 days there will be swelling and other issues that will come and go. We won't know about her motor skills until this all passes. They will probably be worse for now. We need to limit visitors for a little while, as she will not be "herself". Thank you again for your prayers, fasting, everything.
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