Rollercoasters

...the tale continued.

So I sat in the hospital waiting room reading Surahs and waiting for mom's biopsy to finish. The smell of generic tea bags and dirt-like coffee in the corner that I remember so well hit me so hard, I literally felt my stomach churn. The nun who held my mom's hand for so many days, recognized me and came over, offering comfort and the loving smile I'd become so familiar with. "God doesn't give us more than we can handle. And I know that everything will be alright." Her words gave me hope as I listened half-attentively while still trying to read the thasbi in my hand. Its so funny how we go from being expert soccer players and social butterflies to simple disciples of God when a heavy burden hits.
The cardiothoracic surgeon and his assistant came to find me..my heart pounding so loudly I could barely stand it. Dr. Cappello, a surgeon we tried our best to get on daddy's case but weren't lucky enough, had finished performing mom's surgery. He said in a solid voice "The surgery went well. From what we can tell right now, the tissue isn't cancerous. It might be something else and we need to wait for final confirmation in 48 hours, but by the looks of it, no cancer."
I shook Dr. Cappello's hand and thanked him quietly. In a daze, I sat back down in the waiting room chair. "Not cancer. Not cancer. Not cancer." I kept repeating the words in my head...oh thank God. I knew my body and mind were tapped out and like the nun had just told me, "God doesn't give us more than we can handle." I wondered if it was the Surah Yaseen, Rehman, thasbis or the many duas that my friends and family were making that cleared these dark clouds that have been looming over our heads. What did we do right this time that we didn't with daddy? A thought so eerie and chilling, but one that I couldn't get out of my mind. Thanking God but wondering why couldn't we save dad...I headed to mom's new room where she'd be kept overnight. She had a small scar from the surgery and was doped up on meds but she was ok. InshAllah she'll stay ok. I laid in the hospital bed with her the whole night, oddly big enough to fit us both. The hours couldn't go by fast enough, 10PM, 11PM, 2AM, 4AM, 4:45AM, 5:30AM, 6AM, 7AM...how did dad spend 4 months in this foresaken place? I couldn't even bare the few hours we stayed there. So many thoughts, no organization, a sense of loss, a sense of gain, senses hightened and dimmed simultaneously.