Posted by: Deanna | October 31, 2007

A Thank You.

I sat, stunned, in the exam room. My thoughts suddenly flashing back to years before, remembering the words told my mother.

Exploritory surgery.

I had been off work for a week, taking antibiotics and on bed rest to see if this would alleviate the abdominal pain I’d been having. Lying alone for hours in that small, dingy studio apartment, not more than an old motel room actually, I kept my mind busy watching soap operas and talk shows.

The week ended and I returned to the doctor. When he couldn’t find any reason for the pain, he uttered those words that left me stunned.

I stopped in at the office to let my boss know I needed more time off. The office seemed blurry to me as I made my way through to see Linda. I sat in her office, explaining what had been told to me by the doctor. I found myself sitting at my desk after that, not really knowing how I got there.

A co-worker I’d become friends with and sat at the desk behind me, was talking to me, but I don’t know if I understood what she was saying. I think she said,

“I called mom. She’s on her way home.”

I was to just show up at the emergency room the next morning, tell them I was having severe abdominal pain and have them call my doctor. Pat went with me. She sat with me, comforted me and, most importantly, spoke to the doctors for me.

Blood work came back that showed I was pregnant. Other previous tests had not. The doctor was sure it was ectopic and I was prepped for surgery. Pat was not so certain. She insisted that they were absolutely sure before anything was done. They did more tests and when it came time for surgery, they looked first before just taking my tubes.

It turned out to be a ruptured ovarian cist. I was pregnant, but it was not eptopic.

I had no idea, with all that was going on, just how severe the situation could have been. I didn’t know what an eptopic pregnancy was or the consequences of having my tubes removed. I just knew that I was in the same hospital my mother had been in. The same hospital where she’d had exploritory surgery when I was just 15. The same hospital that sent her home too early to recover. The home where she died a few short days later.

Pat got me through it all. She took me home, got me settled and checked on me often. She got me through the next week and every week of my pregnancy. She was in the delivery room to greet that beautiful baby girl. She held her first. I watched her as she wrapped her arms around my new baby girl. Who knew what the next days and years would bring us. I only knew, right then, with absolute certainty, that I had someone I could love as a mother and my baby daughter did have a grandmother.

There are not enough words to express the gratitude I have for such a simple act of kindness that happened more than 20 years ago. Words don’t seem to hold the love I feel. But to put it in the simplest terms, all I can say is

Thank you, Sherri, for sharing your mother with me. I will be forever grateful and forever blessed.


1987 Christmas- Sherri and I

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