"Hi Mom, I have a brain tumor."
There are many phone calls that parents feel scared and it's there. Christopher, 27, is having a headache, who has reached beyond the boundaries of her inherited migration. An MRI was scheduled, and when they told him the next day that they would have to come back once, a little weapon began to be suppressed on my heart.
Christopher is late. She and Lammi, her longtime girlfriend, moved to a beautiful apartment in Hamilton this year, in which her two-father structure is. After the destruction of his arm in the accident of work a few years ago, the work has been messy. The hand was considered to be better; He can not retract any claims for help, and it has been proved wrong. Here is the big bear of a child who thinks that he can lift the world, rarely can raise five pounds with one hand.
About four years ago, he was diagnosed with a strange eye disease; They say that it can be genetic, but I can not even spell it, let alone tell it where it came from (karatochonus: I have seen it). To make it worse, surgery was done on the affected eye, but since then there has never been any vision.
On the last weekend he received a call about a knot, sitting in the specialist's office, it was said that he had to work on the other eye. Oops, OHIP If you have covered this, be really nice. It is a progressive disease that robs the visually impaired sufferers. It is a disease that begins in youth: You know, when that young person rarely has $ 3,000 per eye, so they can see.
He worked for UPS, he worked as a driver on a movie set, he's been a bouncy on strip club. Now his eyes are so ridiculous, only pammy drives. Until the headache began to worsen, he contracted on some computer sites. I thought that it is magrians, and its screen time was reduced to rise, to rise up and to bat and walk around the block, and all my mothers who used to tell me. I was wrong
My son has a brain tumor. He ensures that he is gentle, who had to cry in the doctor's office there. It is very rare (Hey, there is nothing if Somerfelds is not special) and have to come out. They have to go with the sharp tools in my son's head for hours.
I'm afraid. I know that he is 27 years old, but he is my boy. If you are reading this column, then you met at the age of 12. It's a gentle giant who started taking me off at the age of 13, telling me Little Mom. She proudly runs and bites two small dogs, each giving less weight than my cats. She is worried about me when she's the one who has beaten for years. It is concerned with the Pemini, the soldiers, whose narrow shoulders rely on its unimaginable strength.
I'm guilty. What have I missed all those years? What did I ignore, what did I do, I know? I'm guilty of choosing a shaky career. If I take the safe path, maybe I'm getting better off, it is not a good idea to worry about the covered surgery, when it is eternally grateful for people. We Those who lived in, we were financially destroyed. I know this.
I am guilty of not recommending Sunday's dinner – every Sunday – as if I had been seen in my head after eating. You let your grown kids go; They make their lives and you are concerned and proud and you can cut your tongue many times more than you accept.