I’m late again this week, but I’ve also had the flu or some kind of really bad cold. I’m juststarting to feel better though and thankfully mom was well enough to manage things for a couple of days. I have definitely spoiled her and it made me smile when she said she missed my cooking. Just the same, it’s good for her to continue to work towards doing more for herself and it’s good for me to step back and let her.

Of course, mom also tried to walk without her walker again last weekend, and I finally got the realization that not only am I powerless against cancer, I also powerless against my mother’s refusal to do what she needs to do to take care of herself.

Now when I say “powerless,” I’m not saying that I’m giving up on the fight, because I will continue to do what I can to help my mom recover, but there is a certain reality to this situation that none of us on a cancer journey can escape. Sometimes in spite of what doctors say and test results reveal, cancer can come back and the war between it and your loved one will begin again. We can fight with all of our heart, mind and spirit, but in the end we are powerless because cancer is an insidious thing.

The same goes for my mom’s stubbornness with regard to her well-being.

Mom is also a diabetic and from the moment she received her diagnosis, she hasn’t taken it seriously. As I’ve said in previous posts: mom is not taking her need to use her walker seriously and I’m living in dread of her falling and really hurting herself. So when I caught her doing it again the other day, I lost it big time, and I mean big time. I let loose on her with every ounce of my anger, and to be honest, I don’t think she got it even then. In her mind, she’s trying to be independent and if that isn’t bad enough, she has a friend who recently had a knee replacement surgery who keeps telling her to stop using the walker, because that is what she was told to do. It doesn’t matter to mom that doctors and nurses have told her she needs the walker, her loyalty to her friend is the culprit.

So there’s another old lady on my list who is going to get an earful before the week is over.

But that’s also where my powerless comes in, and here goes: I can have all the almighty fits in the world, but it won’t make one bit of difference if my mother once again decides not to use her walker again. She is that insidious. OK maybe not, but it’s a great comparison.

Just the same, I think I finally found my trump card.

After my voice stopped sounding like a combination of a screech owl and the lead singer of AC/DC, I said the following to her; “Do you realize what would happen if you broke your hip? You’d have to go to a nursing home for about six to eight weeks because I wouldn’t be able to take care of you.”

I paused, enjoying the silence and shocked expression on my mom’s face. Her lips parted, her eyes bugged. I was in heaven and all was right with the world.

She hasn’t been without her walker since.