Yesterday I got an alarming phone call from Maria O’Kane’s husband. She was in a downtown hospital having surgery for a new brain tumour near her ear. I was shocked.
I knew she planned on going to the hospital because she had a headache for 9 days, but I wasn’t expecting this. Then I felt horrible because I wasn’t there with her (as her husband was at home with their autistic 11 year old son and 9 year old daughter). She told me that she was going on Sunday morning and I told her I’d go with her, but she said, “No, she was only going to get a prescription for her headache”. Now this. Worried about her all night, hoping she was okay, and feeling bad that there was no one with her.
This morning I breathed a sigh of relief when the phone rang and I heard her voice on the other end of the phone. She was slurring her words a bit, but the feisty Irish is still alive! Thank God.
But I must say she was a tad pissed.
She’s at the same hospital I was in where I had my spinal surgery (wonder if she has that same awesome view of the funeral parlour across the street?). I’m going to visit her tomorrow, ‘cause she said she needs to rest today. Apparently the operation was a success, but she was currently lying in a bed of bed bugs and they were trying to figure out what they were going to do with her while they fumigated her room. She’s afraid the 2 bags she sent home with her husband the night before may carry the creepy little crawly critters to her house as well.
And she’s not to happy with her oncologist either who knew about the tumour from a scan in December, but didn’t bother telling her about it. The doctors in the ER told her if she didn’t get it out, she would only have had 3 or 4 more days to live.
Hmmm…wonder if she will let me watch her firing her oncologist?