The mood when waiting for relatives to have surgery.

I always feel that I am very strong, and all I see is light. People who are sick and sick always feel far away from me. Growing up, I can clearly remember how much my mother suffered and how many tears she shed. All this, like a torrent stranded on the bank for a long time, is waiting anxiously in front of the operating room and bursting its banks.

I accompanied my mother to do various preoperative examinations yesterday. She is always very upset. She almost fainted when she heard the doctor explain all the possible situations of the operation to her. I always assured her that it was nothing, nothing, just sleeping. She smiled back at my comfort, but how worried and anxious she was still beyond words.

When she was sent to the operating room, she looked back at my father and me with endless fear and helplessness in her eyes. She went in with an old woman.

The doctor told me that the lesion needed surgical resection and biopsy. If it is benign, the tumor is directly removed and sutured. However, if the biopsy is malignant, major surgery or even intubation chemotherapy is needed. In other words, the longer the operation, the more serious it will be. As time went on, I became more and more anxious and confused outside the operating room.

I saw someone walk out of the operating room with the help of a doctor. Although he was in pain, he still had a smile on his face. I also saw someone being pushed out to lie down with tears in their eyes. There is a little girl under twenty years old. The doctor told her directly outside the operating room, telling her parents to take her back, give her what she wants to eat and drink, and satisfy all her wishes. Who would have thought that an age as beautiful as flowers and pure as jade was directly declared dead by the late stage of breast cancer? My grandmother, who went in with my mother, was told by her family that she was in the advanced stage and needed to have all her breasts, armpits and lymph nodes removed. After that, she had to put a tube in her neck for chemotherapy. The old woman's husband has been crying for the child and won't let his wife suffer this. He wants to take her home.

I'm waiting. As soon as the door of the operating room was opened, I looked inside. I want to know which car is my mother. How much pain is she suffering now? In the past few hours, I almost collapsed. I'm afraid she is as miserable as that old woman.

My mother is timid and afraid of everything. I'm outside, she'll be worried about my safety, and my father is working. She was also worried that he would trip and fall, but she didn't really care. The doctor said that her illness might be malignant. She covered her hands and cried and said to the doctor, "Doctor, if the diagnosis is malignant, don't treat me. I don't want to spend this money."

In fact, it is really unfilial to think about it. In spite of her opposition, I resigned. I studied for the exam at home last year, and she took care of my daily life. I didn't even notice her illness. I may have failed in the postgraduate entrance examination, failed to live up to her ardent expectations and felt that I was really a failure. Seeing the doctor walk out of the operating room and occasionally close the door, the distance between the door and the outside seems out of reach. Growing up, I never thought my parents would leave me one day. At this moment, I can't help feeling this way. When the trees move and the wind stops, the children want to raise them but not approach them. This may be the biggest regret in life.

It was not until the door of the operating room was opened and the doctor called my mother's name that my hanging heart fell to the ground. I held my mother's bed and held her hand. The doctor said that her condition is fine, and the probability of benign is 95%. I was relieved that the tumor was removed.

Half an hour later, my mother woke up slowly. She asked me what happened to my grandmother who went in with her. I told her that she might not be off the operating table yet. She sighed, her eyes lost in confusion …