Today is the day. What will this day bring? In my heart, I don't believe it will have a happy ending. I am just positive that I'm going to lose my mother soon. The articles I've read confirm my skepticism. We are all at the hospital early that morning. I'm also worried about Dad. He is so upset and like all of us, trying to put on a brave face. They take Mom away and we are put in a room with other families, all waiting on the outcome of their loved one. I don't like sharing a room with others at this time. We need to be alone. Those people are probably waiting on someone to have their appendix out, or an arm set. We are waiting to hear the fate of our mother. Dad and Kathy spend most of the time in the chapel praying. I couldn't leave the room for fear they'd come to talk to us and I wouldn't be there so I sat quietly and prayed.
We are a Catholic family. When Mom got the diagnosis, Dad asked me to call their priest, Father Faustner, and tell him. Honestly, he seemed disinterested. My family had been attending Walnut Grove Church and Rev. Dillon Staas, the minister of that church, came to the hospital to be with us. The Catholic priest never came, and as far as that goes, never called, sent a card or anything. Nothing. Some holy man. From that day on, Dad referred to Pastor Dillon as "Father Dillon". I don't know if Pastor Dillon ever realized what that meant when Dad called him that. It was the utmost compliment with love that my dad could ever bestow!
A few hours after they took Mom to surgery, Dr. Miller, opened the door and asked us to come into the counselling room. I knew the other shoe was about to drop. I had prepared myself for it and I was ready for the news. We all sat at the table, "Father" Dillon, too, and Dr. Miller said...."It's gone. It's all gone." We were all speechless. We hadn't really spoken among us so I didn't know if my sisters and Dad had come to the same conclusion as I did...that her days were numbered. Is that why we were all sitting there, not speaking and just staring at Dr. Miller? Finally someone said, "What do you mean?" Dr. Miller said it again. It's gone. The cancer is gone. Again, dumbfounded and numb, we just sat there. He then began to describe the surgery to us, and I got my wits about me enough to ask if Mom would need chemotherapy or radiation. He replied, sort of loudly...and arrogantly, "NO! I said IT'S GONE! IT'S GONE! She will be fine!" WOW!!!! Unbelieveable!!! God had answered all our prayers. GOD IS GOOD!!!! Dr. Miller left and "Father" Dillon began to pray. We all prayed and cried...this time...tears of joy.
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