Beautiful Breakdown

It's been a slow smooth ride for the past few days. Mom can't eat to much because it hurts to swallow and she's sleeping more and more. She given up on putting her teeth in because that hurts too.

The roller coaster has slowed, now we are just coasting, albeit downhill.

As for me, I had an emotional breakdown(away from the eyes of mom). Crying, cranky and crass. I'm glad I did.

I have recently often felt overwhelmed, and there was a nagging urge to get away, take a break. Space. Diversion. Escape.

After my mini-meltdown, things have changed. Being here at home with her gives me a sense of peace. I don't need to get away anymore. I just want to be with her. She watches the Turner Classic Movies (TMC) channel 24 hours a day - literally. I caught myself turning it on in my room while I went to take a nap today. It was soothing to me - reminds me of mom - even though she was in the next room.

Geez, am I in the 'acceptance' stage of grief? The 'denial' one wasn't too bad, but the 'anger' one sucked.

I hope it lasts, when mom does not.

The Numbers Game

Good news, mom is better. I think I am too. How long will it last? Don't know. Today she had two requests:

1. Iced, decaf, latte, venti, vanilla squirt from Starbucks.
2. Beans from El Pollo Loco.

I got her both, including a topper of macaroni and cheese and cole slaw (from El Pollo Loco, not Starbucks).

I asked her today on a scale of one to 10 - one being deathbed, 10 being fabulous - where she was at?

She said she is a nine.

Cool. What a difference from the four she was just days ago. That takes me from a four to a nine as well. OK, maybe an eight. I know a nine for her is not a nine for a healthy person - but a nine is still a nine.

Albeit, a nine today may have been a five three months ago. But a four this week would have been a one two months ago. To confuse you even further, mom usually starts going down past a six when her fever is more than 100-degrees. When it hits 101-degrees, she is a five, and I need to be by her side.

Now, she is under 98-degrees, which elevates her to eight+, depending on how her stomach feels (+ or - two points margin of feeling crappy).

Her stomach feels fine. So, I am happy with a nine.

Oh, Crappy Day

Mom has a fever tonight. She is sleeping about 18 hours a day, and taking enough pills to kill a junkie on Union Avenue. I need to be at home with her now - so I am taking a vacation day off work.

My emotions - upside, downside, inside out. Will the next day hold relief? Misery? Where do we go from here? It's like a poker game - you never know the next hand you will be dealt. But in this game - there is no bluffing.

I pulled the Hospice nurse aside tonight - out of ear-shot from mom. Despite the so-called guide to dying "Gone From My Sight"(included in the Hospice welcome pack), there is really no concrete blueprint, no exact step-by-step manual for death. The nurse agreed, it could be tonight, tomorrow. It could be weeks, even months (I doubt the latter).

I have said this before - but I think the end is near, or at least near-er. Obviously, death is closer than it was before.

(Sorry, I'm going to emotional here, but these are my thoughts)I know the day is not far away when I will never see her, touch her, feel her again. Forever. Forever is a very long friggin' time.

Hence, the reality, sadness, utter devastation of the absence in the sole largest part of my life since the day I was born is setting in. She changed my dirty diapers, wiped my snotty nose, fed me, clothed me, cared for me when I was sick, punished me when I was acting like an ass. She encouraged me and believed in me when no one else did.

And (at least we think) her efforts paid off. Thanks mom - I love you.

Since my mom was diagnosed with metastasized colon cancer to the liver, I have had two friends who have lost their loved ones for the same condition. They were diagnosed later than mom, and died much earlier, within several weeks.

I cherish the time I have with her, but it hurts to see her deteriorate like this.

On a positive note - mom's spirits are fine - maybe it's her solid foundation in her spirituality, maybe it the morphine - either way, she is accepting and has found serenity in her fate.

As for me, I got some counseling from Hospice today. Good news, they say I am not 'depressed', but rather going through the first stage of grief. Good - I'm normal. This makes my grief much more manageable.

Mom let me take this picture of her tonight.

Mom's Last Mother's Day

This was mom's last Mother's Day.

I made her pancakes for breakfast. I put her in her wheelchair and took her to the bookstore to buy her some mystery novels. Today some flowers arrived from my brother. A DVD of Ester William's movies arrived from my sister.

Mom didn't say much. She doesn't anymore.

But when I asked her if she had a nice mother's day she said she did.

Mom is not sad or depressed, but I am sad. I don't want her to know how sad I really am because I don't want her to be sad that I'm sad.

When Hospice first came in they told us they had grief counseling. I didn't think I would need it. I do.

But I still don't want it because it's going to be a complete bawl-fest, and I don't know if I want to open the floodgates. Maybe it's time.

Here I go.. I'm picking up the phone to call them.

Mom Missed her Deadline

In my business deadlines are a daily thing. They are not an option. You WILL make your deadline.

I have missed a few. Oh, the humility, the horror. There is little worse than the dreaded walk of missed deadline shame through the newsroom, past all of your peers (who made their deadline) knowing that for this day you are a complete and utter journalistic failure. No matter how good your story, if people don't know about it - it doesn't matter.

Mom missed her deadline. I want everyone to know.

The oncologist told us five months ago that at "the most" she had five months. Five months has come and gone, by just a few days.

I was talking about it with mom a few minutes ago.

"I honestly didn't think I would last this long," she said.

I asked her how much longer she thinks she has.

"I don't know," she replied.

I'm glad she's hanging in there. I admit, in the back of my mind there has been a quiet, haunting countdown to the end based on the oncologist's predictions. Now that the deadline has passed that annoying voice in my head can shut-up.

But I have to do a reality check, I don't think mom wants to live like this for an extended amount of time. Her ups and downs are taking a toll. She doesn't want to get out much in her wheelchair, and her appetite is flaky at best due to frequent bouts of nausea. Not much of a life, but she can still mosey around the house, read her books and watch old movies.

I just read that last paragraph and it is all over the place, but I am going to leave it, because that is my flip-floppy thought process over all this. She dying, but alive. Sick but kicking. Weigh the positives with the negatives, Yin-Yang, blah, blah, blah.

OK, I will leave that too.

Anyway, we are both glad she missed her deadline. Now she can go on her own schedule... and I don't want to know what it is.

I made her a grilled cheese this afternoon (with the crusts cut off). She ate the whole thing. She has lost 50 pounds now, but still holding at a healthy 130 pounds. She didn't want her face in the picture today because her dentures are hurting her mouth, and without them she thinks she looks like an old lady.

The Cancer Coaster

I am blogging more and more infrequently. I apologize to those who are following my blog. My emotions are leveling out - either I am blocking them out, or I am becoming so used to the wild ups and downs that it's becoming a normal ride.

The ups and downs are still here. There have been several nights I thought mom was going to die since I last posted.

On the flip side, we have gone to Wal Mart twice. I am really glad she didn't die in Wal Mart.

Mom's article came out in the annual report for San Joaquin Community Hospital. We did the interview several months ago when she was much better. It was about the hospital and what a wonderful job they did when she had her surgery.

She got a big kick out of it. The pictures were great, and the hospital staff was kind enough to give us a disk with the photos on it. There are 90 thousand copies of the magazine floating around, so if you get a chance, check it out. She looked awesome.

As for reality, mom is still slowly going down. Some days are good days, some are bad, but her good days now are like her bad days a few months ago.

I would like to thank everyone who has responded to this blog. The comments don't pop up, you have to click on the "comments" button below each post to read them.

I suggest you do. People have shared some very telling and emotional experiences with cancer and other illnesses. They make me feel like I'm not alone.

Thanks again.

Mom isn't doing so Hot

This one will be quick and not very funny. Actually, not funny at all.

Mom is very, very weak. She won't eat. I am very worried. I know we have been on a hundred roller coaster rides since this started, but I never know which one is the grand finale.

I had to lift her into bed tonight. She can only walk with a walker, and that is shaky.

I had a terrible dream last night that she was face down in the bathtub full of water and I couldn't pull her out. I think that's a metaphor of how I feel right now.

She says she just feels weak. No depression. No 'bucket list'. Just tired and some pain, which we try to mask with meds.

I didn't blog for 14 days. That was a good thing - because things were pretty good. In fact, just a week ago we were talking about how that was the best she had been since they removed the colon cancer in November. But now the liver cancer is taking over.

Liver cancer is a twisted tease of a cancer. Good one day, bed-ridden the next, then back up again... or at least that is our experience.

I told her I would be staying in with her all weekend.

"Maybe we can go for a walk," she said. I told her if she was up to it. We both agreed she probably wouldn't be.

I took the picture in this blog a few minutes ago. She didn't wake when the flash went off. I hope it's not mom's last picture.