that's what calling your mother, to check on how she is doing post second dose of chemo, post losing most of her hair and giving new meaning to the phrase "tender-headed" is, in case you had any doubt.
I had been thinking about her a lot the last two days, hadn't spoken to her since Friday, which was a great conversation, so rather than read chapter two of a really book download that I should have finished at least 6 weeks ago, I called. Big mistake. Somehow for the first time I found it really hard to find things to talk about, felt uncomfortable in my own skin while on the phone. Hearing her talk about finding the most gentle baby shampoo (California Baby in case you're wondering) was just itchy making, which of course was what she was trying to cure. She hasn't let her husband see the extent of the hair loss yet as she wants to adjust to it first and right now she thinks it's rather horrible.
Yes, she made sick jokes about looking like a young jewish boy with just side curls when her fake bangs went askew, waxed happily about her spa tub set up and how it helps but somehow I couldn't keep up today with the witty comebacks, or story telling of our zoo. I just wanted to get off the telephone. I felt bad that I hadn't made the hat I picked out (nevermind that she is being terribly picky about hats - I have sent her no less than 14 different web links with hat ideas!). There should be one in the mail already. As she told me how the bath today removed most of what was left of her hair, I worriedly inquired whether she had gotten my message that, yes, I did want a locket. I have no idea what I will do with, or why I feel I need, but I do. I heaved quite the sigh of relief when she told me it was already on it's way (sure this time she doesn't procrasinate putting something in the mail for me).
As soon as possible I got off the phone and felt totally unsettle, so I went to finish the soup I was making. The Girl Friend had been craving "chicken and corn soup", something her mom makes. No pressure there, none at all. She had gotten a rough recipe from her dad reading her mom's notes and I just took it from there. One detail was that there this thing, like dumplings (which I have never made) but called rivells. Okay I can do that right? Essentially it's spaetzle. Actually it came out just fine. Big pot of soup. Yesterday I made a big pot of soup that I was craving, Indian Spiced Squash soup. I invented this recipe while at a client's house (I was working as a postpartum doula) and I hated squash, as in never ate, but this changed my mind a bit. So if you're hungry for soup, come on by.
3 comments:
Oh, hon. I'm sorry. That sounds like it was a really tough phone call. Sometimes it's so hard to know what to say, isn't it? I'm sending good thoughts.
P.S. The squash soup sounds really, really good.
Rivells. Who knew?
Spiced Squash Soup. Yum-o-matic.
Sorry about the phone call. That is so hard.
Dharma, that phone call sounds so hard. So sorry. It'll be a tough road, but it sounds like your mom is surrounded by love, and she'll be able to rely on that strength when she's feeling puny. Best wishes for quickly regained health for your mom. As they say down here, I'll hold her in the light.
Got that Indian spiced squash soup recipe handy? Mmm mmmm!
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