Different Story 29 Years Ago.

I took Kris to Kaiser as a wee pod, tiny little potato bug (sorry, he looked like one to me..lol) back in 1989.  

To the same building we were in yesterday.  

If fact, one of those visits I remember so perfectly pulling up to the back parking lot (before the remodel and layout).  I drove a Toyota Truck with a camper shell on it.  Kris in his little car seat next to me. 

Upon exiting the truck, I locked my side.  Went to the other side to realize I had left my keys on the seat.

Baby locked inside.  No cell phone.  A baby of 6 months staring back at me as I began to frantically take inventory of brain thoughts for "what to do".  I began pushing and punching at the little back window. To no avail.  I had no other choice but to run into the nearest building asking them to call 911 to have the fire department come and break the window out.  By this time he's frantically crying.  Not because he was hot. Not because he was cold.  But because he could see my sheer panic. 

Nineteen years old, and feeling my first tastes of the trials and tribulations of motherhood.

Fire Department arrives, breaking the window with a neat device.  Giving me assuring words.  Allowing me to grab my baby to rock back and forth in that parking lot.  29 years ago. 

My heart pounding.  The embarrassment.  The fear. 

We arrived back at that same building yesterday.  Only this time to have shitballcancer removed from his nose.  A bump that grew faster than we all knew possible.  Which was one of the warning signals we all stared at for weeks. 

All praise AGAIN to Kaiser for pushing his case through.  LOVED his doctor yesterday.

As I sat across from him as they prepped him for the procedure I could see the angst in his body.

He's strong, and yet weak.  We all are.  We don't want to hear the word biopsy, or lymph nodes, or referrals, or blood work.  And yet we do.

We appreciate a call one day to an appointment to have it removed in less than 24 hours.  I mean, that's just bad ass. 

A simple suggestion from the nurses to choose whatever music he likes to soothe the vibe in the room. 

He chose Mary Wells (which is oldies)-  

For almost 4 1/2 hours we were tucked into this room.  Well, for me, I had to excuse myself as the doctor let me sit in his office behind the surgery area because this mama lisa started to lose hearing and the vision of the room became cloudy, because....well...BLOOD.  

Noises.  Scalpel, blood, hoses, machines, ya....no bueno for me. 

It took two different cuts to get it all out. Something the doctor didn't want to mess with, but had no other choice.

The commonality of this procedure with Leukemic patients from the radiation.  The lack of immunity allowing the body to become too weak, not able to fight off the average cancer cells.  And when they grow, they grow way too fast. 

He's referred to the nose doctor next for skin grafting and plastic surgery to close up that gaping hole, taking skin from his neck, or behind his ears.

Twenty nine years later, and there we sat.  In that building.

My heart racing this time for other reasons. 

I'd rather break a thousand little windows than watch these pages Kris continues to have to write.

At least he's here.  

Just like he was the day I ran back to the truck waiting for the Fire Department.

Hope you are having a great week so far!  The sun is shining, Kris will have two shiners, we'll have dinner tonight and love on eachother forever and ever.  Amen.

Mary Wells

And if you're wondering where my 1986 Toyota pickup went?  She caught fire the next year and I had to barrel down an exit off ramp into the middle of the field, grabbing Kris and running to a gas station as my flip flop broke where the toe part goes, and upon making it to the station office, the man attending there said he couldn't help me as we watched my truck go up in flames.  #truegentleman #douchebag 

#maybeitshisculture  #maybeascaritycat #wuss
I actually wrote the most intense straight forward letter to The 76 Corporate offices back then at the mere age of 20. Humanity falls before corporate bullshit of liability.
Simple as that.
I also boycotted their stations for years.
And years.

Another dial to 911 and bam Fireman hero's again!

Happy Hump Day!

This Mama Lisa