2013.07.18: 15 - My Daughter's Injury

我与癌 (15-闺女受伤) 生活继续着，化疗持续着。纽约 Sandy 洪水泛滥对我的作息时间并没有丝毫影响，只是提醒我更要珍惜我已拥有的一切。 2012的感恩节已近在眼前。周五夜晚我已躺下正要入睡，电 话铃响，是大四的大闺女来电，得接。Mama，Are you sitting down? 她问。I'm lying in bed ready to sleep. Is everything OK? 我答并问。I have broken my ankle this afternoon, went to emergency room, will need surgery next week. 她告知。Ok, Let's talk tomorrow, you go back to sleep，take a pain killer if you needed。我很平静地答复。Love you mama. 闺女道别。 Sweet dreams. 我再次ensure her it is going to be OK. 放下电话，我是无法入睡了。为是否该让闺女回家做手术还是我飞去照顾纠结了大半夜，最终觉得应明天听听闺女和周日从中国回美LG的意见后再做决定。我想责备她吗？想。有用吗？不但没用，肯定雪上加霜。我琢磨LG去年底的脚伤，她应该记忆犹新，相信她知道该如何应付生活上的变化。 周六我干的头等大事就是上网订机票，那里料到 JFK 机场和 New York 地铁 均因 Sandy 已关闭。但做为母亲，我哪能袖手旁观！经反复沟通和协商后，决定绕道于闺女手术当日（周三）抵达，照顾一周后，返回接受推迟一周的化疗。 多亏我 Yale 的朋友 W 和 T 帮助联系专科手术医生，使大闺女能及时得到最佳医生的医治。感谢 W 细致入微 的照顾和关心并实况转播闺女的手术进程，让我做为母亲的倍感温暖。感谢朋友Q不辞辛苦半夜接我，天明送我, 周末再次约上十年未见的朋友共进午餐。感谢所有我Yale 的朋友的热情款待。 我到病房时，闺女已术后一天，一切顺利，准备出院。按顿完我俩，已是下午。闺女提议晚上和我去观看同学们精心备战数月的印度舞表演，如果没意外受伤，闺女该在台上跳，而不是台下看。摔伤时，她流过泪，不是因痛，而是为失去展示她和同学们一起欢快舞动的机会而伤心。她的提议，我虽很赞同，但感觉我俩都应休息更有助于恢复由旅途和手术带来的疲劳。看着她十分渴求的眼神，晚餐后还是决定陪同前往。晚会开始，我俩很快融入同学们热烈的氛围，我情不自禁随着音乐手脚也跟着叮咚起来。本该闺女在台上与同学一起表演的节目开始时，她就一刻不停地在座位上手舞足不蹈，完全沉浸在欢快中，我朦胧觉得自己似乎又回到了青春年少时！ 庆幸我选择离闺女很近的单独住宿，能进也能退（感谢 Master P 的精心安排）。我俩很快就找到了配合默契点。早晨我协助她洗漱完毕，进餐厅，端早餐，同学一到，我便知趣溜号，去做我的吸吸呼和练功十八法。中餐后，我小睡一觉，她上网阅读学习。晚餐后，我回房，她的房间便有同学络绎不绝。一周的时间，不仅让我有机会结识她的同学朋友们，还皮毛体验了一把她的日常生活。并赶上了总统大选，Obama 被再次当选，充满激情青年人的沸腾热血随时感染着我。作为在美大学生的家长，能有这样的机会不多吧！我特别珍惜和闺女在一起的点点滴滴，特别自豪赞一下，闺女对待受伤，手术及恢复的积极态度与行动让我刮目相看，她已成长。

Me and Cancer (15 - My Daughter’s Injury) Life continues, chemotherapy continues. Hurricane Sandy in New York has no effect on my daily life, and that just reminds me to appreciate what I already have. 2012 Thanksgiving was just around the corner. Friday night, I was in bed just about to fall asleep, when my phone rang. Seeing it was from my daughter, now a senior in college, I had to pick up. “Mama, are you sitting down?” she asked. “I’m lying in bed ready to sleep. Is everything okay?” I said. “I broke my ankle this afternoon, went to the emergency room, and I’ll need surgery next week,” she said. “Ok, let’s talk tomorrow. You go back to sleep, take a pain killer if you need it,” I calmly replied. “Love you mama,” she said. “Sweet dreams.” I again ensured her that things were going to be OK. After putting down the phone, I couldn’t sleep. For half the night I debated whether to have her return home for surgery or whether I should fly there to take care of her. Finally I decided that I should wait until tomorrow and see what she wanted and to get the opinion of LG, who was coming back to the U.S. from China on Sunday. Did I want to blame her? Yes. Would it be useful? No, it only would it be useless, it would only make things worse. I remembered LG’s foot injury late last year, and she should remember as well, so I believed she should know how to cope with the necessary lifestyle changes. Saturday, my top priority was to book tickets online, but I didn’t expect to see that the JFK and New York subway lines were both closed due to Hurricane Sandy. But as a mother, I couldn’t just let it go! Through much communication and consultation, I decided to take a detour and arrive on Wednesday, the day of the surgery. After looking after her for a week, I would come back and undergo my chemo treatment a week late. Thanks to my Yale friends W and T who helped contact a surgeon specialist, enabling her to get the best treatment from the best doctors. I want to thank W for meticulously looking after my daughter and relaying to me live information about the progress of her surgery, making me feel particularly warm as a mother. I want to thank my friend Q for coming to pick me up in the middle of the night, taking me back at dawn, and organizing friends I hadn’t seen in ten years to have lunch over the weekend. Thank you to all of my Yale friends for your hospitality. When I arrived at the hospital, my daughter was already one day post-op, and as everything went smoothly, she was getting ready to be discharged. After we had gotten settled, it was already afternoon. My daughter suggested that that evening we go to see an Indian dance performance that her classmates had carefully prepared over several months. Had she not gotten injured, she would have been on stage too, not watching from the audience. When she got injured, she cried, but not due to pain; but rather, it was because she lost the opportunity to dance on stage with her friends. Though I supported her suggestion, I felt that both of us needed rest to recover from traveling and surgery. But seeing the pleading look in her eyes, I decided to go with her after dinner. At the beginning of the show, we were quickly swallowed up into the intense enthusiasm of the students in the audience, and I couldn’t help but start dancing along with the music as well. When the dance number that my daughter was originally supposed to be in began, she danced along in her seat, completely lost in happiness. I even vaguely felt as if I were back in my younger days! Fortunately, I chose to stay in a guest apartment just across the courtyard from my daughter, which gave me more freedom (thanks to Master P). We quickly settled into a routine: every morning after I helped her wash up, we would have breakfast in the dining hall, and when other students started arriving, I would leave to practice my Xixihu and Eighteen Forms. After lunch I would take a nap and she would study. After dinner, I would go back to my room, and friends would flock to her room. In the span of a week, not only did I have the chance to meet her classmates and friends, but I also got a cursory experience of her daily life. I also caught the presidential election while I was there: Obama was reelected, and the passion-filled young students infected me with their enthusiasm. It’s rare to have opportunities like this as a parent of a college student in the U.S.! I especially cherish the times I had with my daughter, and I’m particularly proud of and impressed by the positive attitude she took toward her injury, surgery, and recovery. She has grown up.