So, folks, we’ve arrived at the Cleveland Clinic Guesthouse. Mom’s taken her prep meds and the rest of us are ordering chinese food. This whole “My mom has cancer and is going under the knife” thing has gotten increasingly real as the day has progressed. I had re-done my ipod last night and in redoing my playlists I inadvertently set out a bunch of sappy or sad songs. That made for an interesting car ride, let me tell you.
We stopped about 2 hours from Cleveland for lunch. Of things I’m most sad about right now, the fact that Wendy’s was the last meal Mom will eat for 5 days is the biggest.
Dad has re-read the map and hospital guide four or five times, and is walking around with the “Helpful Information for the Day of Surgery” brochure in his shirt pocket.
The plan: Tomorrow, at 5 AM, all seven of us will do the space-shuttle walk from the hotel to the hospital. Mom will go to anesthesia and we’ll go to the waiting room. That may be the last chance we get to talk to her until Friday. (That part freaks me out more than a little.)
I’ll post instructions for people to send Mom cards or stuff tomorrow. Cleveland Clinic is anti-laytex, so don’t send balloons or anything too big or exotic. In truth, you might do better to wait to send stuff to the house once she comes home.
Don’t forget to follow @gerrystumor for up-to-date updates.