My mommy went to the hospital this morning for a laparoscopic biopsy of her ovary or ovaries. (Most of my family is there with her. My aunt is here with me because I still have croup.) The tissue that is removed for biopsy will of course have to be tested in a lab, but, depending upon what her surgeon sees through his laparascope, she may be opened up for a full-blown surgery. I'm beginning to believe that must have happened since I haven't heard anything. If it were just I at home waiting, I'd think she's been out of surgery for hours and they're all sitting around eating popcorn or some such thing and not even thinking about calling me to let me know that everything's fine or it isn't, but since my Aunt Victoria, who's her sister, is here with me, my assumption is that my mom probably isn't out of surgery yet. Someone would have called my aunt even if they would have just left me hanging.
The surgical personnel might ordinarily have come out with updates for my father, but he and my uncle are watching from an observation spot. It was a tough choice for my dad to watch, but he thought not knowing would be worse. My uncle is just there with him for moral support.
The phone has rung five time since shortly after 11:00, when she entered the O. R. Two of the calls were wrong numbers. One was a solicitation from a charity. Two more were from concerned acquaintances of my mom's. Everytime the phone rings, I go into my room and put the pillow over my ears. I know it's cowardly to make my aunt deal with it, but, as much as I want to hear, I can't handle the possibility of bad news. Eventually the phone call is going to be a right number and it will be from someone at the hospital. Then I will have to face it. I'm scared of the phone call.