The day was like any other. Just a regular day with a crappy schedule.
Just another appointment with my mother at the hospital.
Just a small hope that maybe this latest disease progression was a reversible mistake.

Well, it is not.

Today marks the day she is officially in palliative care.
You’re welcome.
We manage pain and discomfort now, and there’s nothing else to be done.

And once the news is out — loud and clear — the brain starts its loop:

Are you sure? Not even this?
What about a solution for that?
Yes, I understand, but maybe more physiotherapy?
A hip replacement so I can walk… nothing? You’re sure?

I have to give it to her — she has a stubborn brain.
A stubborn brain refuses to let go, refuses to believe, refuses to give up.
There’s always a yes, I understand, but…

It’s emotionally exhausting for me, having to go through the same explanations over and over. But I still admire it.
I hope that if one day I face a serious disease, I will have that same trait, that stubborn refusal to let go.

But for today, I am just hollow. Sad. In desperate need of a time-out, space, and a good cry without the kids watching.

Tomorrow I will accept it. Nothing is different from what it was this morning.
This was just a difficult day, and it’s nearly ending.