Mimi's Wishing Well

Two things today: A brief update and a miracle.

First, I want to tell you that Mom’s first and second days of chemo/radiation went very well. We aren’t expecting any new reactions to the chemo. And, the doctors say that Mom probably won’t notice any side effects from the radiation for a couple of weeks. So, following our typical protocol, we are taking things one day at at time. Mom said yesterday, “My job right now is to absorb [the fluids and chemo] and to lie still [for the radiation]. I can do that.”

Second, today I was reminded of the first miracle that I received shortly after Mom received her cancer diagnosis. I would like to share it with you.

In the immediate days following the cancer diagnosis, we all felt very lost. The “plan” was to wait two weeks until one of the Kenosha doctor’s had some additional test results. My parents were preparing to wait in line. I think their manners and patience is a generational thing. But, I am from a different generation. An impatient and demanding generation! This was unacceptable. But, what could I do?

One morning, flooded with feelings of grief, uncertainty and helplessness, I sat in my office and cried. While I cried, I made a wish, said a prayer, asked for guidance, or something to that effect.  What should I do???

After my episode, I went to the bathroom to wash up. Returning to my computer, I decided to do a quick Internet search on cancer treatment facilities. Kevin said we should check out the Cancer Treatment Centers of America (CTC). So, their website was my first destination. Within moments my gaze became fixated on the upper left hand corner of the website. I couldn’t believe my eyes!

Before I proceed, I need to backtrack a little. The day after Mom’s diagnosis, I found one of my favorite pictures of my mom and made it the desktop picture on my computer screen. It is a picture that I took last summer in a park up north. Mom is flying Conrad's toy airplane in the picture. I see such joy and freedom in my Mom in this picture, that I wanted to be able to draw strength from it and keep it in front of me.

What had captivated my gaze on the website? In the upper left hand corner of the page was the CTC's logo. A logo that contains a silhouette of a child flying a toy airplane—just like the picture of my mom on my desktop! Some might say that it was just a freaky coincidence. But, everything inside of me told me that it was something more. Just minutes before I was pleading for direction. And, while I still didn't know exactly what I was supposed to do, I was certain that I was moving in the right direction.

Immediately, I wrote my dear friend Renee and told her what just happened. Was my mom supposed to go to CTC? Should I make the call? Within the hour, Renee responded to my email. She said that she does believe that I am on the right path in my search. But, she said that CTC is probably not the best place for my mom. She sent me some reviews of CTC, and after reading them, I knew she was right. Being the excellent friend that she is, she also sent me other very encouraging options to look into. Her first recommendation was Froedert. 

That afternoon after reading about the hospital, I called Froedert. The next day, Mom was registered with the Froedert’s Cancer Center and had an appointment set up to begin additional tests and a treatment plan. Things progressed so quickly at Froedert that she had already completed additional tests, met with an entire team of specialists and had her surgery scheduled before the first appointment in Kenosha would have occurred. Most importantly, my mom told me that she knew that this is where she needed to be.

Below are the pictures of my mom flying the airplane and the CTC logo. Looking at these pictures still gives me goosebumps! Although Mom is not being treated at CTC, I believe with all of my heart that I was being guided that day to begin the journey.