The last time that I spoke to my mother was the morning of her surgery six years ago to remove part of her kidney on May 25 2011.
She was 58 years old, and we had a very close relationship. I was naive, for you see for some reason I had always figured I would die young and my parents would out live me.
Two weeks prior to her surgery, she was in a car wreck taking my nephew to school. A school bus rear-ended her car and hurt her back bad enough for the ER Dr. to schedule a MRI. That is when she found out the news that no one wanted to hear.
"Mrs. Fender we have found a CANCEROUS mass the size of a soft ball on your left kidney."
For the first time in my life, I had to face the realization that my parents were in fact mortal and that they were not going to be around forever.
The urologist had convinced her to have only part of her kidney removed via minimally invasive robotic- assisted surgery with the DavinciĀ© surgery system. She wanted the whole kidney removed, but the urologist assured her, if it was his wife even, that he would advise to only take part of the kidney. With this new surgery system it was supposed to be a two to three hour operation, then a simple overnight stay at the hospital and then be released to go home the very next day.
The surgery ended up taking twice as long as it was scheduled but the surgeon assured us every thing had went well. The reason it took so long was because Mom had an abnormal amount of "sticky" fat around her abdomen and kidney making it more difficult to find his way around.
Mom was supposed to be in recovery for a few hrs then we could see her after she woke up from general anesthesia. Four hours pass as my two brothers, father, and I anxiously await to finally get to see Mom. We all have a feeling something just isn't right and as the Dr. calls Dad back to meet privately our feelings were confirmed.
"Mr. Fender there have been some complications and we have had to give your wife a few units of blood." "We are going to take her to the intensive care unit, just as a precaution." "Worse case scenario I might have to go back in and do exploratory surgery to find out why she is losing so much blood after the fact of surgery."
As the sun was starting to set as the day wore on, my brother and I decided to go out and move our cars around to the side of the hospital closest to the ICU. We get our cars moved and as we exit the elevator to walk into the ICU, we see a chaplain talking with Dad off to the side of the room. Everyone of my family members in the waiting room have tears in their eyes, and I couldn't help but to scream out " What the FUCK is going on!"
The chaplain and Dad heard me shout,approach my brother and I, and explain to us that Mom had coded out and they had to shock her heart twice to bring her back. He explains to us that if we were religious we should start praying because she wasn't out of the blue just yet. Bursting into tears, my heart felt like it dropped to the floor, I walk out into the hallway of the ICU waiting room to collect my thoughts.
They ended up rushing her in for the exploratory surgery to stop the internal bleeding, and found two bleeds and sealed them off. The surgeon told us we could finally see Mom and let me tell you I wasn't
prepared to see my mom in the shape she was in.
As Mom was laying in the bed unconscious on life support, dialysis machine, more IVs and tubes than I ever recalled seeing on anyone, the doctors explain to us that the head neurosurgeons were out on vacation for Memorial Day weekend and wouldn't be back in until the June 1st at the earliest.
After staying the night for two nights sleeping on the floor in the waiting room, our bodies just as worn out as we were mentally, we finally realized we needed to start going back home to actually rest and there wasn't much we could do except do the scheduled visits and pray she would awake from surgery and all the trauma she had been through.
That ended up being the longest seven days of my life, talking to my mom just hoping she would awake and pull through. June 1st finally arrived, the head neurosurgeon meets with my father, two brothers, and I and explains that Mom has no signs of brain activity and had experienced lack of oxygen for to long before they could shock her back to life and was in a vegetative state. We had to make the decision that this wasn't what she wanted and decided to take her off all life support.
They transfer Mom to the hospice floor, and we have another long hard day ahead of us. For some reason I decide to stay in the room with her by her side as she passes on to the next life so she would be surrounded by her loved ones.
I had never experienced death that up close and personal, and let me tell you it haunts me til this very day.
I should have thought and realized that Mom didn't want her baby, I being the youngest, to see her that way. Her breathing very labored, her lungs filling up with fluid, making a sound I will never forget. Like a coffee maker percolating, my dad explains to me that this actually had a name, the death rattle.
Overwhelmed with sadness and feeling empty, My brother and I take a cigarette break. As I take a drag, I look up to the star lit sky on this particuallary humid June night, I see a shooting star blaze across the night sky. I make a wish upon that star, for my mom to go peacefully, painlessly, and quickly into the afterlife.
We get back to her room, I am physically and mentally drained, so I pass out on the recliner in her room. I awaken to my brother and dad saying "Wake up, she is gone." Confused and half asleep, they have to repeat it three or four times until It dawns on me that my mom had waited until I was asleep to take her final breath. I glance at her lifeless body as tears fill my eyes and for the next few months I can't but help to have mental flashbacks of her laying there dead, mouth open, worse than any horror movie scene I had ever watched in my life.
Needless too say this fucked my whole world up, I hadn't lost anyone in my life like this up until now. I pretty much become a recluse and lash out at my loved ones and hate what my world had become. Having major depressive disorder and anxiety I pretty much work, sleep, hang out with my wife and son then repeat. Self medicating with pretty much anything I could get my hands on, I was going no where fast.
Flash forward a few years and I get a call from an old friend telling me that my best friend that I met back in elementary school had accidentally overdosed and passed away earlier that day. It was August ninth 2015, he was only 36 years old. Five days after my birthday, almost like the universe was playing some sick joke on me, this shook me to the core. I was finally coming to terms with life without Mom, then this happens. He was a lot like me taking meds to numb the pain of losing loved ones, and the hurt that this earthly existence can inflict on a human being. This hurt like losing Mom, but it was different losing a friend that had become like a brother, and who had a lot of the same issues I was dealing with at the time.
This scared the shit out of me, you see this could have very easily been me.
A couple years pass and it is now present day, I finally am somewhat at peace with everything, getting a better control on my demons that are the same demons that killed my friend.
Some old friends had been posting on Facebook about this new site that is Steemit and how everyone should get your ass on Steemit, for there was monetary rewards and the community was like none other. I decide what the heck and create an account. I set back and tryed to learn and browse and soak up all the information I can before making my introduction post.
My post does ok, nothing spectacular, I think maybe my payout was like 20 some odd dollars. But this new platform that is Steemit awakens something inside of me that I had lost along the way of all the pain and loss that I had suffered in the past decade. For the first time in a very long time, I am daydreaming at work and using my imagination to think about what post I can make and it keeps coming to this question in my mind....
What am I really good at, what makes me who I am?
I couldn't remember having this much self introspection in my lifetime. My old friend who had passed voice kept running through my mind. He was saying "Fender is one funny mother fucker", my mind flashing back to him introducing me to new people who would become new friends.
Then it hit me. Almost like my universe had come full circle, it was easy and plain as day for me to see
Just be yourself, be the comedian that makes others laugh to feel good.
Be the kind, big hearted, good listener, caring human that would give the shirt off your back to help someone in need and the Steemit people that cross paths are going to love ya.
So in closing I would like to thank my old friends particularly 
Thanks friends and Steemit for helping me find myself, and what I had seemed to have lost along the way!
Ragingryno
R.IP. My dear mother Terry Ann Fender , I will see you someday when this life is over. R.I.P. My dear friend D.J.M. I hope your pain is finally gone, and thanks for helping me find myself again even after your passing. To any fellow Steemians or humans that read this to the end, know that you are not alone in this life, sometimes it just takes some self introspection, or it just takes paying a little closer attention to the signs that are being thrown out there by the universe. You are loved, you are worthy, and you mean something to someone. Even a fellow steemian or stranger on the street, we are all experiencing this human condition. In the words of the late and great Chris Cornell "Someone falls to pieces
Sleeping all alone
Someone kills the pain
Spinning in the silence
She finally drift away
Someone gets excited
In a chapel yard
Catches a bouquet
Another lays a dozen
White roses on a grave
And be yourself is all that you can do
TO BE YOURSELF IS ALL THAT YOU CAN DO." - Audioslave
Phoenix image source: pixabay.com
