I came down with a bug this week. I was tired, achy, feverish and just downright in the dumps. I sequestered myself to a bedroom for two days as to keep mom from getting sick(er).
I was going to leave and make the long drive home. But that, as she put it, would be like closing the barn door after the horse got out. Whatever I had she had likely been exposed to - most viruses have a several day incubation period before the person shows any symptoms.
So, I stayed in the bedroom. Door shut. I wiped down knobs after I touched them. We were never in the same room at the same time. At least that was the plan.
When a child gets sick around his or her mother, "the mother" in the mother comes out.
"Can I make you some soup?" mom asked several times while peering through the cracked door into my darkened lair of microbial activity.
"No, mom. I'm fine. Can you shut the door?" I replied, hoping my toxic airborne pathogens hadn't found her yet.
I was in the kitchen during my episode one day. I heard her say from the other room, "Don't worry, I will do the dishes."
No, she is not doing dishes. I quickly unloaded the clean dishes from the dishwasher and piled in the dirty ones. I knew "the mother" had re-emerged. And if I let mom be "the mother" it could turn into a mother of a problem. She still has limited energy.
I can guess it has been about five days since whatever I had began festering in my cells, and she has not gotten sick (my husband is). I have recovered.
Now, "the mother" in mom is quiet once again.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
Seasons of Our Life
Spring is officially here. Mom is still here. I remember when she first was diagnosed and got sick the leaves were starting to turn red and brown. One day I looked at the big tree in her backyard and thought of a story I had once heard.
It was about a little boy who had a very sick sister. The little boy was very young, about 4-years-old, and his mother didn't know how to tell him his sister was going to die. The doctor explained to the boy that she would be gone when all of the leaves fell off of the big tree in the yard. Time passed and his sister got worse. The leaves on the tree started to turn yellow, then brown. One day he saw the leaves falling. He grabbed a roll of tape and climbed the tree and started taping them back on the branches.
You know how it ends.
Anyway, I thought mom would be gone when all of the leaves fell off the tree in the backyard. I watched them turn brown and fall off. She has had a few close calls. But Spring is here, and so is she.
As the flowers bloom, she fades, but slowly. She is getting weaker, but can still do things on her own around the house.
I have heard people lasting a long time, years, with this kind of cancer, even though the doctor gave them only months to live.
Maybe she will be around to see the leaves fall one more time.
It was about a little boy who had a very sick sister. The little boy was very young, about 4-years-old, and his mother didn't know how to tell him his sister was going to die. The doctor explained to the boy that she would be gone when all of the leaves fell off of the big tree in the yard. Time passed and his sister got worse. The leaves on the tree started to turn yellow, then brown. One day he saw the leaves falling. He grabbed a roll of tape and climbed the tree and started taping them back on the branches.
You know how it ends.
Anyway, I thought mom would be gone when all of the leaves fell off the tree in the backyard. I watched them turn brown and fall off. She has had a few close calls. But Spring is here, and so is she.
As the flowers bloom, she fades, but slowly. She is getting weaker, but can still do things on her own around the house.
I have heard people lasting a long time, years, with this kind of cancer, even though the doctor gave them only months to live.
Maybe she will be around to see the leaves fall one more time.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
We Are Very Aware
March is Colon Cancer Awareness Month. I am very aware of colon cancer. So is my mom. We live with it every day. I even know exactly what it looks like from the colonoscopy photo.
I got pretty pissed in the newsroom Monday. We had a story to cover about Colon Cancer Awareness Month, and a few people actually snickered when it was mentioned - like it wasn't worth our air time. I had to remind them that my mom is dying from colon cancer. I know they didn't mean any harm, but their comments did hurt.
Yes, ignorance is bliss. That's how we got in this situation in the first place. And ignorance can metastasize.
Colon cancer is one of the most preventable cancers out there. But unless you are personally touched by it, I don't think many people give it a second thought. Mom has to give it a first, second and third thought each time she has to change her colostomy bag.
She wouldn't be thinking about it if she had just had a preventative exam a few years ago. It would have been a tiny polyp that could have easily been removed during an outpatient visit.
But she never had one. Never even thought about it. Even as it was growing to the size of an almond, a plum, a tennis ball, she went about her regular life never knowing the beast was growing within. By the time we caught it, it was the size of a softball, and had ventured out the walls of her colon into her stomach and liver. by the time we caught it is was already a death sentence.
So do yourself a favor, go get checked. It you have polyps, get them removed. Do this every few years. While you may not avoid all cancers, I promise if you do this, Colon Cancer Awareness Month will never hold the same sad, regretful feelings for you as it does for mom and I.
I got pretty pissed in the newsroom Monday. We had a story to cover about Colon Cancer Awareness Month, and a few people actually snickered when it was mentioned - like it wasn't worth our air time. I had to remind them that my mom is dying from colon cancer. I know they didn't mean any harm, but their comments did hurt.
Yes, ignorance is bliss. That's how we got in this situation in the first place. And ignorance can metastasize.
Colon cancer is one of the most preventable cancers out there. But unless you are personally touched by it, I don't think many people give it a second thought. Mom has to give it a first, second and third thought each time she has to change her colostomy bag.
She wouldn't be thinking about it if she had just had a preventative exam a few years ago. It would have been a tiny polyp that could have easily been removed during an outpatient visit.
But she never had one. Never even thought about it. Even as it was growing to the size of an almond, a plum, a tennis ball, she went about her regular life never knowing the beast was growing within. By the time we caught it, it was the size of a softball, and had ventured out the walls of her colon into her stomach and liver. by the time we caught it is was already a death sentence.
So do yourself a favor, go get checked. It you have polyps, get them removed. Do this every few years. While you may not avoid all cancers, I promise if you do this, Colon Cancer Awareness Month will never hold the same sad, regretful feelings for you as it does for mom and I.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Dazed and Confused
My mom is a junkie.
Right now she has no choice. Suffer through pain, or take the Hospice meds as prescribed. Remember, the role of Hospice is to keep people comfortable while they die... and that means lots of drugs to keep them numb.
I am worried they are making her too numb. She was sitting on the porch the other day, book in one hand, cigarette in the other, arms outstretched with palms facing up. Her eyelids looked like heavy curtains. She looked like a monk in meditation.
"Mom, you look like a Buddah," I told her.
"Huh? I can't keep my eyes open," she said.
This can be a problem. The eyes need to be open if one is going to read, watch TV, or, as she did yesterday, use a very sharp knife out to cut celery. Nothing bad happened... her eyelids started falling and I finished.
She reads all day long. That used to mean nearly a book a day. Now it means a few pages.
"I read one word, shut my eyes, then open them back up and read the same word again," mom said. I told her it would probably take her 20 years to finish the book at that rate. She agreed.
She also needs someone there nearly all of the time. Paid caretakers can get quite expensive, so my husband Francis has basically moved in with us... he can be there for her while I'm at work, and there for me in the evenings.
Hospice said mom can handle the amount of meds she's one. But last night we decided that she is cutting back, as long as she is not in pain.
She does have a lot of books to get through.
Right now she has no choice. Suffer through pain, or take the Hospice meds as prescribed. Remember, the role of Hospice is to keep people comfortable while they die... and that means lots of drugs to keep them numb.
I am worried they are making her too numb. She was sitting on the porch the other day, book in one hand, cigarette in the other, arms outstretched with palms facing up. Her eyelids looked like heavy curtains. She looked like a monk in meditation.
"Mom, you look like a Buddah," I told her.
"Huh? I can't keep my eyes open," she said.
This can be a problem. The eyes need to be open if one is going to read, watch TV, or, as she did yesterday, use a very sharp knife out to cut celery. Nothing bad happened... her eyelids started falling and I finished.
She reads all day long. That used to mean nearly a book a day. Now it means a few pages.
"I read one word, shut my eyes, then open them back up and read the same word again," mom said. I told her it would probably take her 20 years to finish the book at that rate. She agreed.
She also needs someone there nearly all of the time. Paid caretakers can get quite expensive, so my husband Francis has basically moved in with us... he can be there for her while I'm at work, and there for me in the evenings.
Hospice said mom can handle the amount of meds she's one. But last night we decided that she is cutting back, as long as she is not in pain.
She does have a lot of books to get through.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Mom's New Ride
Brenda's got some new wheels. No flashy rims, no spinners, but now she can roll. Good thing too, because otherwise she would fall.
She is now using a walker in the house full time. This is a big step, or a bunch of little rolling steps, anyway.
The walker became necessary as of Monday. She was having a lot of liver pain, and Hospice upped her meds. She said her legs felt wobbly, like they were going to buckle beneath her. Time for the walker.
I know this could mentally be hard for her. I think she's worried it makes her look like an old lady. But the reality is she feels much more stable and so do I.
I tried to push it one step further today. We were in the living room watching another marathon session of reality TV cooking shows, and I wanted to get out of the house.
"Can I put you in the wheelchair and we'll go around the block," I asked.
"No," she said. For now, me pushing her in the wheelchair is pushing it.
The walker used to belong to my grandmother. It has tennis balls stuck on the bottom of both of the back legs. It makes the ride much smoother. I told mom we could pimp her walker. When I explained what that meant she smiled.
I'm thinking some purple tennis balls with sparkles.
She is now using a walker in the house full time. This is a big step, or a bunch of little rolling steps, anyway.
The walker became necessary as of Monday. She was having a lot of liver pain, and Hospice upped her meds. She said her legs felt wobbly, like they were going to buckle beneath her. Time for the walker.
I know this could mentally be hard for her. I think she's worried it makes her look like an old lady. But the reality is she feels much more stable and so do I.
I tried to push it one step further today. We were in the living room watching another marathon session of reality TV cooking shows, and I wanted to get out of the house.
"Can I put you in the wheelchair and we'll go around the block," I asked.
"No," she said. For now, me pushing her in the wheelchair is pushing it.
The walker used to belong to my grandmother. It has tennis balls stuck on the bottom of both of the back legs. It makes the ride much smoother. I told mom we could pimp her walker. When I explained what that meant she smiled.
I'm thinking some purple tennis balls with sparkles.
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