One of my favorite sayings goes something like this: sometimes you have to choose between planting roots and growing wings. I like it because it doesn’t elevate either decision. There is something wonderful about both. My dad and his entire side of the family planted deep roots in the same area of central ohio for over 100 years. My brother and I both grew wings and left for other locales.

The problem with choosing wings over roots is that you can’t always find community the same way you do when you have family around. Also, it can be challenging to be with family during difficult times.

My brother and I both came to Ohio last Tuesday to visit our mom and step-dad. We were happy to time it to we arrived at the same time. We spent most of Wednesday just chatting it up—me, mom and my bro. It was great. On Thursday, we went to our favorite shopping center in Columbus.

Mom has been having stomach pain off and on for awhile and it has increased over the past month. A few weeks ago, her oncologist took a CT scan and saw something in the colon, though they couldn’t tell what. They arranged for her to visit with a gastroenterologist and to get a colonoscopy scheduled. She was able to get one on the books for July 20.

She had been having trouble keeping food down and on Wednesday and Thursday, she ended the days by vomiting her food. We all agreed that she couldn’t go on like this, especially since she had another week before her appointment. We had tentative plans to go shopping at our favorite store in Zanesvilled (called Gabe’s) on Friday. When we got up in the morning, I told my stepdad our plans and he said, I don’t think you’re going to go anywhere accept the ER. I didn’t realize he was serious about taking her to the ER that morning—I had no problem with it, of course. I thought it was the right decision. I said to mom, “Mom, Dave says we’re taking you to the ER.” She said, “But I don’t want to go to the ER. I want to go to Gabe’s.” I laughed and laughed at this. But even she knew with the way she was feeling, going to the ER was the best choice.

We drove to the ER at the cancer center in Columbus. One fact about having cancer: non-cancer doctors do not want to deal with your problems because they assume all problems are associated with cancer. Had we gone to the local ER, they would have simply sent us on to this ER. So we skipped the middle man.

Her pain was getting pretty bad. It’s a constant dull pain with spasms that really hurt. We arrived at the ER at approximately 11am, didn’t get seen until 4:00pm, and didn’t get a room until 3:00am. After the doctor checked out mom, they put her on a gurney and placed her in front of the nurses’ station to wait for a room to open up. I sat with her, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in on the bench where I sat. It was impossible. I was so grateful when the woke me at 3:30am to say we were moving into a private ER room. Mom moved into a hospital bed and they left the gurney for me to sleep on.

The next morning, we learned from the doctors that they suspected an intestinal blockage. At some point they said surgery and removal might result in a colostomy bag. My mom was displeased. She’d had a colostomy 13 years ago that was reversed after six months. She had always said she would rather die than go through it again. And now, those were the two options. I drove home that morning, got lunch, took a shower, took a nap and drove back. I got back at 4pm and mom was still in an ER waiting room. We had been in the ER since the previous day at 11am. They were that full. Happily, about an hour after I got back, they moved us into the new cancer center. It was like moving into the Taj Mahal after living in the ER for so long.

To compress all the rest of the news: the surgeons told mom the blockage was created by scar tissue in the intestine. Surgery was required. Best case scenario, they remove the scar tissue and reconnect the bowels. Second best case, they remove the scar tissue and divert the intestine to an ostomy. Worse case scenario, they cannot remove the scar tissue and she moves into palliative care. If she chose not to do the surgery, she would also have to move into palliative care.

She decided to do the surgery (after A LOT of thought. I think the doctors were surprised she didn’t just say yes, but she really, REALLY hated her colostomy experience). The night before I practiced healing touch on her knees and legs (something I learned volunteering for hospice). The next morning, while in pre-op, we held hands and prayed. When she went off to surgery, I went to the chapel to talk to god, the universe, the great mother…what have you…and to send out good energy.

After three hours of surgery, the first surgeon came out and said she had handed it off to her colleague because she had to be somewhere, and that the team was still working but there was a lot of dense scar tissue. A lot. Then she checked in once more before leaving and told us it looked like she might not need an ostomy after all. That her colleague seemed to think he could reconnect everything. I think all of our jaws dropped—that was the best case scenario! We had assumed a colostomy was most likely. All in all, the surgery took a whopping five hours! It turns out a tumor was growing in her intestinal lining, which was binding up with scar tissue, and all of this was pushing in and blocking the intestine. They removed 2-3 ft. of her small intestine and large intestine. They said they didn’t seen any cancer anywhere else, which is great news. The surgeon said typically, when ovarian cancer has spread like this, you’ll see spots of it everywhere. That wasn’t the case here.

Now she has to heal and the bowels have to start working again. Already the doctors can hear grumbling and noise when they listen (before surgery, they were silent), so that is excellent news. She is in a lot of pain though, and it will take time to get over this hump. And I’m getting ready to return to New England today…that is the challenge with wings.

I wish I could just stay here and watch her heal, help her heal. Technically my bosses would probably allow it—I can do 99% of my work remotely. But I also have responsibilities at home to Spence and to work (and to myself)! And I feel a bit selfish about leaving at this point. If I had put in roots, I would be closer. I could go home and come back easily. But I chose wings. And the only time I question that decision is in a time like this.

I’ve already let my boss know I’ll becoming back later in August to see how things are going. I pray that she will be much improved. Much improved way before I come back! Thankfully, my brother, the other winged one, is still here and is free enough to extend his stay if necessary. Together we’ll support her.