Can't Say Can't
Sometimes I just want to throw my hands in the air and scream,
"I CAN'T. I cannot do this."
"I CAN'T. I cannot do this."
But it seems I can, and so I do.
All the while wishing I didn't have to.
The Rory Story - Part III
Friday, September 9 It felt like we were getting our miracle. At rounds today the doctors told us Rory was stable enough to be moved to the UofA and she would probably have surgery within 24 hours of arriving. My stomach churned. “Do you think they’ll let me ride with her in the ambulance?” I ask Sheldon “Hopefully.” He says and wraps an arm around my shoulders. We were having breakfast in the cafeteria of the hospital. We had called our parents to let them know the good news. The transport team had been arranged for. Rory would be on her way sometime today. Or at least that’s what we thought. Nothing could have prepared us for the news we received when we walked unsuspectingly back into Rory’s room. A doctor we had never seen before was standing over Rory. He walks over to us and introduces himself as a surgeon from the UofA. And then proceeds to tell us he will not be doing the surgery and Rory isn’t going anywhere. Because the small bleed in her brain turned out to be not so small.
This was very poetic, I actually started counting syllables to see if it could be a haiku at the end (it's not). But in all seriousness, screaming that you can't do this may make you feel better, even just for a moment.
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