The doctors have called for me and my brothers to meet them this afternoon for a meeting. No doubt, for some bad news. My mom knows, but she wanted us to hear it from them. Last night, I walked her to her car, and we talked for what seemed like forever. She hinted to what the doctors were going to tell me, as she knows I am very upset right now. Not that most of the medical staff has not been very compassionate. In fact, all the nurses hug her, cry with her....the anesthesiologist came into the room on Wednesday, and didn't even have the words. He looked at my mom, and broke down in tears. A grown man, working in a hospital...in tears. You can see why I'm upset.
It was this meeting where the doctors raised concern of the likelihood that my father will ever walk again. The entire meeting was blurry to me, as I was so full of anger and rage. I wanted to put my hand through a wall. I don't want to hear their opinions...because in the end, that is all they are. One of my friends put it best, 'doctors are like the weatherman...they will give you their thoughts on the facts placed before them, but cannot predict the future.' Here, in the NW, the weather changes quite often. All I heard in that meeting was three words,
"Nothing is impossible."
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