Waiting Room
I'm in the waiting room again. My mom is in surgery again, and it seems like thats all we've been doing the last few months. Waiting.This time, my husband is waiting with my dad and I. He's such an ass sometimes. All he thinks about is himself. He doesn't understand, I think. We're worried about my mother. We are here, again, for her. Not him. We are here praying and waiting for the doctor to come out and tell us that everything went fine. That they finally got all the stones. That they will be doing a biopsy, and are going to find out what's going on. How come the stones keep coming back. If there is a certain drug or diet she needs to follow. Anything that would be good news for us.We're all so worried about mom. She's almost always in pain. She has to make sure that she doesn't do something that will cause her more pain. We are always watching her. Was that a twinge? Did she just groan? Did she just shift like she's hurting? Is she okay???? Always wondering, and not always knowing, because she doesn't want to worry us anymore than we already are. So here we are waiting again. It seems like we're always waiting.
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