My mom starts chemotherapy tomorrow. It feels like my two feet are reaching to stand in four separate corners. Doctor, Daughter, Mom and Wife. Four corners. Except nothing about the sky looks like Utah right now.
I’m caught in the middle of a generational sandwich. I’ve started to understand that taking care of those older than me and those younger than me (while, at the same time, attempting to tend to myself) may define adulthood. This week I awoke to the sobering reality that I’m a real grown-up. Good morning, Sunday, meet me, Grown-Up number 221005. It seems I’ve finally earned the title.
Titles tend to follow set milestones in life. You finish your twelfth year and you’re a teenager. Eighteen and you’re a voter. Finish college, you’re an adult. Finish Med school and they call you Doctor. Yet often, these titles are granted asynchronously from earnest accomplishment or achievement.
Take the example of being called, “Doctor.” When I was a resident working in the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU), one supervising physician set me straight. After an absolutely wretched night that I will remember for the rest of my life, we sat down to round at about 8am. I’d been up all night as a senior resident caring for premature infants, running to resuscitate premature infants at deliveries, assisting and working with nurses in the NICU, and witnessing the death of two infants. It was a tragic night. I’d just filled out a death certificate and tidied up my to do list for the morning when we sat down to review our patients. My sage attending said, “Dr Swanson, every day someone calls you ‘Doctor.’ Every once and a while, you earn the title.”
It turns out, this might be another opportunity for me to earn my other title, daughter.
Up to this point, I’ve been fairly academic, intellectual, and doctorly about my mom’s cancer diagnosis. I hide out in the numbers and the science of her disease. Sometimes it’s an easier place to be.
Tomorrow I venture out of the decimal points with my mom as daughter. At the cancer center, like my mom, I will hope and pray for the best while I wait for little miracles. But I am also scared. So, doctor is in there but daughter and grown-up sit more squarely in the center.
I can do this, Mom. Without hesitation. So can you.
Ever since I finished med school, my mom has had my name labeled in her e-mail, “Wendy Sue, MD, MBe, MDDtD.” MDDtD: My Darling Daughter the Doctor. Thanks for the confidence in my dual roles, Mom; I hope never to let you down.
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Stacey Arnold says
My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer last year and luckily she only had to receive radiation. Its such a hard thing to have a parent go through! Your mom and you will be in my thoughts!
Becky Hunter says
Karen, may you feel completely loved and strengthened through this process. Yes, Wendy, it is hard to be a grown~up. Praying for all of you!
Claire says
The four corners – so true. For different reasons, I have been acutely aware of these pulls lately and all the worry that goes with it. So hard. So stressful, and yet such a privilege. Right you are that opportunities arise to earn these weighty titles. Hard as they may be, it is a privilege to be in a spot where you can earn them when the time comes. It speaks to your love, caring and strength that you are more than worthy of each of your titles. I’ll be thinking about you and your mom lots. Hang in there.
Lynne Slouber says
Just as when the waves lash at the shore, The rocks suffer no damage But are sculpted and eroded into beatiful shapes, So our character can be nolded and our rough edges worn smooth by changes.
Isabelle says
My mom was diagnosed with stomach cancer the same day I learned I was pregnant. She was my best friend and passed away last year. It is difficult to see your parent get older and go through this. You are in my thoughts.
Natalie says
Crying as I finished reading this post. I so relate to your last two blogs. Please give your mom a big hug from me, then ask her to do the same for you.
Paulina says
I nursed my dad through terminal lung cancer a few years ago and it was a emotionally draining experience but I won’t change a thing because I miss him every day. Your mom is a lucky woman to have you there to support her. You are in my thoughts.
Nicole says
Four Corners. What a great reference. What a balancing act life is. You, your family and your mom will be in our thoughts and prayers.
Kathy says
Glad to hear it’s not just me who has (only after turning 36) feeling like a real Grown Up, and not liking it much. The pressure, the responsibilities, the bills, the stress, the decision-making…see, working half-days really is the way to go… Wishing your mom (and you!) all the strength, peace, and wellness during this difficult time. And I highly recommend the book, “A Dietitian’s Cancer Story,” by 3-time cancer survivor, Diana Dyer, which you can learn more about here: https://www.dianadyer.com/
Marika B. says
You’re such a wonderful writer. Good luck to your mom with chemo! If she’s ever looking for a way to track and organize her daily health (mood, symptoms, side effects, medications, etc), check out our site if you think it might be helpful. I’m so glad she’s been blessed with a daughter, doctor, mom, and friend like you.
jules says
Have been reading up on your blog as of late and I’m so appreciating it! What a range of different experiences, and sharing of yourself makes it much more real to all of us. Thanks so much, my dear, for this great wisdom and heart.
Shawna says
Thank you for this post. Loved it. I am Dr. Heather Christy Mefford’s little sister (also a cancer survivor). Keep the posts coming. 🙂