My Mom has been through the ringer. She's 81 and, bless her heart, keeps chugging along.
She's had colon cancer twice, a quadruple bypass, a burst appendix, a pacemaker and defibrillator implanted and is back in the hospital again as I write this post.
She wasn't feeling great for the past week, complaining of weakness and exhaustion and lack of appetite. She finally couldn't take it anymore and allowed us to call an ambulance for her this afternoon.
I spent the better part of New Year's Day in the emergency room waiting to find out what exactly is going on and why Mom is feeling so miserable.
Still not quite sure of the diagnosis, I do know that the cancer is probably rearing its ugly head again and causing the problem this time.
It's sad to say but I always wondered what would get her first: her heart or the cancer. I suspected the heart would be the culprit, stealthily moving in and quickly, quietly wreaking havoc as it so often tends to do. But no, I think the cancer has taken the lead this go around.
But she's not through fighting yet. If the doctors can get her stabilized and comfortable, I suspect there's another round or two left in her. I admire her strength, though I see she has weakened quite a bit.
So as I get my bearings and prepare mentally for what may come, my observation and analysis is simple: it stinks getting old.