I broke a hand mirror last week when I was flat-ironing the back of my hair.
I was already tired, running late and on my way to take the little one to school and myself to work.
I am not really superstitious but I did mutter, "bad luck if you break a mirror" while I picked up the glass.
Our good friend was diagnosed with adenosarcoma last week. He starts chemo this week and since we met he and his wife Saturday night for a drink and then had to leave immediately to take my mother-in-law to the hospital, I never found out his prognosis.
Yesterday we found out my MIL has cholangiocarcinoma, a very rare cancer of the bile duct.
They transported her to Barnes Jewish hospital in St. Louis yesterday; there are wonderful doctors there who specialize in this type of cancer.
We drove to the hospital to see her off and arrived just minutes before she left by ambulance for a long journey in the pouring rain. We picked up my husbands brother who had been there since Saturday evening (my husband was there with them until Sunday afternoon), grabbed some coffee and bagels at Panera and spent the trip home making phone calls to people that my mother-in-law knows.
There are lots.
I got online and read everything I could about this type of cancer. The statistics are either grim or promising depending on what you read.
We are waiting to hear what her treatment will consist of. It is usually surgery to remove the tumor and see if it has spread to the lymph nodes or surrounding organs.
Did the broken mirror attribute to this string of events?
Doubtful. That is just silly.
But it pissed me off and gave me something to blame when there is nobody and nothing to blame.
My husbands mother has a favorite expression: "Give it to God"
So God, here you are.