And sometimes I drop the ball

My day yesterday started with a phone call from my mom's family doctor, who left a slightly annoyed message that we had missed mom's biopsy appointment last week. I needed to straighten things out immediately.

According to my calendar-AKA the Bible-the biopsy appointment was scheduled for tomorrow, because on the day we supposedly missed the biopsy at one hospital, we were at the other hospital finding out how many marbles mom has left in the mental bag with a follow up with the geriatric doctor. I remember discussing the conflicting appointment with the surgeon's secretary, and I had May 17 written in my calendar, which was then also written on the calendar at home, in my office, at mom's...but the piece of paper about the appointment had May 10 written on it, when we were at the other hospital seeing a different doctor about a different medical issue. After a bunch of phone calls and juggling, the biopsy has been re-booked for May 24.

I am the scheduler in our family. I have 2 extra large calendars in our house, plus a small one in my purse. I keep track on the family obligations, my work deadlines, meetings, and now, my mom's life as well. I'm scrupulously careful about appointments...but somehow this one went off the rails.

Mom's skin cancers are spreading by leaps and bounds. She has a covering on them all the time now, because they ooze and bleed without a dressing. She's forgetting WHY the bandages are there, and keeps asking when it will get better so she can have the bandages gone. She pulled the bandages off yesterday to see, and then didn't like what she saw. We need the biopsy to decide on next steps. We have limited options-do nothing and wait for it to eat her head or go septic and kill her slowly, have more radiation, which may very well have tipped the scales into full blown dementiaville in the first place, or have surgery, which will require a general anaesthetic which she may or may not survive, a skin graft which may or may not take because of the radiated area, and a possiblity that it will just grow back again if there are cancer cells left. There is no good option.

I dropped a ball today. I need to shake it off, let it go and move on. Sometimes that's easier said than done.