Mother Smucker

Today was a day filled with more blessings than we could shake mom’s cane at. I arrived at Casa de Longo amid a flurry of snowflakes. While it did not last long, it was truly magical the way they bounced off my windshield as I headed to pick mom up.

When I got to her house, I burst through the door, yelling, “It’s snowing!” Of course mom panicked and asked whether it was safe to drive all the way to Dallas. I assured her that we had nothing to worry about. They were ascetically pleasing snow flurries. The kind that just make you go WOW without causing you to slip and slide into your fellow travelers.

As I walked mom to the car, she stopped and tilted her head back to catch a few flurries on her tongue. She said it made her feel like a kid. It was one of those moments that just put a lump in your throat.

During our drive to Medical City mom told me that when I dropped her off yesterday, she had received an unexpected surprise. Her friend Ethel had called and wanted to stop by to give mom something. Mom said that they visited for awhile and then her dear friend presented her with a quilt. This quilt had been made for mom by some very remarkable woman at Holy Cross Catholic Church. Their calling is to use their creative talents to make quilts for the sick, have them blessed and then bring them by to provide comfort for those facing a severe illness. It was absolutely beautiful and to know that it was made with such love and sincere well wishes for a full recovery makes it something to be cherished for ever.

As we made our way through the sliding doors leading to the radiology wing, I could tell it was probably going to be a longer than normal visit. After mom signed in, I escorted her through the “forbidden zone” and settled into a chair to watch the snowflakes fall. After a few minutes had passed, Peter, the little boy who has been there as long as my mom, emerged and reunited with his mom. Sometimes it’s hard not to over hear someone else’s’ conversation, but Peter and his mom were elated that tomorrow was his “graduation” day. That’s what the staff calls a patient’s last radiation treatment. As Peter and his mom walked passed me, he smiled at me and his mom wished me a good day. I told her that tomorrow was my day off and since I probably would not see them again, I wanted to wish them both a journey filled with blessings and good health – Peter is a remarkable young man who I am sure will do great things in his life.

I continued to observe the snowflakes fall. What started out as small little specs, evolved into fluffy, Texas sized flakes …dancing their way to the ground below. Mom appeared from behind the “forbidden zone” about an hour later. Today’s session was a bit longer due to x-rays and the weekly consultation with her radiologist. As she sat in the chair, she leaned over and grabbed my hand and told me that Dr. Macko said she was doing phenomenal...DUH!

I know some might think that at the age of 80, mom should have forgone the surgery and treatment …after all, 80 is a pretty good number and the road to recovery has not been easy. But Dr. Macko told mom today that for a woman of her maturity she is in exceptional health and she has at least another twenty years. I told mom I already had visions of her face gracing the label of a Smucker’s jar on the Today show! :o)

Our final blessing of the day came in the form of a road trip. Since it’s no longer a surprise, I can blog about it. My mom’s brother is celebrating his 90th birthday in a few weeks and due to her illness, she did not think she could make the trip…especially crammed into coach on a flying Petri dish.

But after discussing it with my husband, James, we decided to “gift” some air miles so mom could travel first class and be with her siblings on this momentous occasion. As her brother, Frank pointed out, it may be one of the last times all of the siblings will be together since they are maturing and traveling becomes more difficult.

Not to mention, my heart knows that my mom needs to physically see her siblings. They need to be able to pinch, hug, kiss and spend time together in order to reaffirm that my mom is doing well. There is just so much a blog can convey and this trip will definitely be a Kleenex/Kodak moment for a plethora of reasons.

My words of wisdom for the day are “never under estimate the human spirit.” We have nine more treatments left and what we have accomplished from day one is nothing short of miraculous.

Take time to find your blessings today!

Val

(Here is mom with her gift from The Quilting Club at Holy Cross.)

Magical Melody

It’s Tuesday and I arrived at Casa de Longo at my usual time. Mom says she can set her clock by me and I can say the same about her.

Each and every time I walk through the door, mom is always sitting in her chair, hands folded across her lap, coat draped over the arm of the chair and her cane leaning next to that, patiently waiting for her ride – she is always ready to go. It’s a good thing she changes her clothes and hat, otherwise I would think I was in my own version of the movie Ground Hog Day. :o)

Mom, or has my husband calls her, “momisan” looked a little tired today. Since we are at the beginning of week four of radiation, it’s starting to wear on her a little bit. I think the fact that she has been on some type of schedule since October makes her tired too. Anytime you do something in a repetitive manner, it can be a bit monotonous, even if it’s saving your life, sometimes you are just ready for a break.

We loaded up the car and in the words of Diana Ross in the 1978 movie, The Wiz; we eased on down the road. We arrived at Medical City on time, but they were having a busy day and were behind schedule a bit. I escorted mom through the “forbidden doors” and took my usual chair in the waiting area. I rooted around in my purse and found my iPod and as I settled into my own melodic world, I had to remind myself to not sing out loud with the music or lip synch…and yes, I do make the contorted face when I do.

As I was swaying side to side, I had the strangest feeling I was being watched. I opened one eye to see mom hovering over me, grinning ear to ear. I removed the ear plugs and asked her what she was doing. She just kept on grinning and said, “Just watching.” Great, I had my very first groupie. As I reached for her coat, I decided to let her release her inner rock star – we all know she has it, remember the guitar hero photos that were posted earlier on this blog? I put the ear phones into her ears and while I was putting on her coat, something amazing happened. She began to move side to side, waving her arms in the air and tapping her cane. I got a glimpse of some of the other people in the waiting room and they were just smiling and trying to move to a beat that they could not hear. As we headed out the door, mom still bee-bopping (as she calls it) it reminded me of that movie Weekend at Bernie’s II. The music seemed to just take over momisan and transformed a weary woman into Fred Astaire, complete with swinging cane.

I think sometimes we underestimate the power of music. It has the ability to inspire, invigorate, sooth and get you moving when you think you just can’t move any more. It has the power to transport you to the past in the blink of an eye and serve as a back drop as you catch a glimpse into your future.

So whether your preference is Andre Bocelli, Tony Bennet, Aerosmith (or in my case) a mix of all the above, take a little time to “bee-bop” this week - bring out your inner Fred or Ginger and celebrate your life.

Find you blessings today!

Val

It's Genetic

My alarm clock buzzed a little bit earlier this morning. I had to allocate some extra time to swing by ye olde donut shop on the way to mom’s house. She wanted to bring her radiation therapists a little something for always being so nice to her. Mom just enjoys doing things for those who do for her. She’s always so appreciative, even for the smallest of things.

When I got to the house, I thought we were going to have an “off” day. Mom wasn’t feeling too well and after I grilled her like a cheese sandwich, she said she was feeling a little nauseous and thought it best if she brought her little pink bucket. I won’t go into great detail, but darn it...there will be no chunkage when I am behind the wheel. So as we were headed out the door, I had one of my brilliant epiphanies. I told mom she should get one of her anti-nausea pills that she was taking while getting the chemo. I hated the thought of her having to go through that tube for treatment, feeling queasy.

After mom popped her pill, we were off and half way down the tollway, it happened…the woman had a miraculous recovery and it was party on!

We arrived at Medical City early and after I unloaded mom, I went back for all her “stuff.” She said I looked like a pack mule since I was loaded down with her purse, my purse, two boxes of donuts, her sippy cup of water, her jacket and a bag of CD’s that she brought in order to share some music during treatment. Of course, she always insists on carrying something and I always tell her, it’s training for when I have kids and have to drag them and all their crap from point A to point B. :o) She thinks that’s the funniest thing ever!

I actually escorted mom through the “forbidden doors” and down the hallway. As we rounder the corner (donut fumes in tow), we saw her nurse and radiology therapist at the helm administering someone else’s treatment. They both said “good morning” and I told the nurse why I had deviated from the “patient only” protocol. She quickly replied that anyone bringing food gets a free pass. I left mom in the holding area and joined the other patient escorts in the outer sanctum.

Things moved pretty quickly today (they usually do on Fridays) and mom emerged from her treatment area with tears in her eyes. Like the Spanish Inquisition, I wanted to know why she was so misty. She told me they were happy tears, not sad ones. Mom said that soon after I left the “forbidden zone” her therapists had commented on how nice it was to finally meet me. That she had a beautiful daughter who looks like her mom and shares her same kind and loving spirit – WOW! I have them all fooled. ;)

After my mom told me all the nice things her medical team said, I came to a horrible conclusion…I have my mother’s Big Hambone gene. On the ride home, I referenced Jim Carey’s movie, Bruce Almighty. I told mom that not only was I... B-E-A-UTIFUL, but since I cured her nausea, I had a bit of Wylie E. Coyote…Super-geniuous sprinkled in. I looked over at mom and joking said, “You do realize that being this smart and pretty, is painful”? She looked at me, smiled and said, “Of course, I do. You take after your mother.” The woman is a riot and absolutely correct…I am a chip off the old parmigiano reggiano!

We stopped on the way home for lunch at Il Grano. Mom had the hankering for pasta salad and as we left, we broke into Italian song. Mom says it makes her heart full to see one of her kids embracing her culture. I told her I had to make sure I had it down so I could some day pass it along to little Giuseppe Conley! ;)

I dropped mom off at the Casa and we got her groceries put up, then sat out on the porch and enjoyed the gorgeous day. I even got her to pose for a few photos and a mini movie or two. I admit there are days that we have so much fun that for a little while we forget that she is battling cancer – and those are the moments that have become our most cherished memories.

Mom and I have a new acronym for ourselves – Team LoCo.
It’s very appropriate considering some of the adventures we have had during the past five months. For those of you that do not know, LoCo is a combination of my maiden and married name.

As I left Casa de Longo today, mom said that this was the best day she had and I would have to agree. Sometimes you just have to cut-up, act silly, embrace your goofiness and just enjoy the moment. So here’s hoping that each and every one of you all get a little LoCo this weekend – sing, dance and celebrate life like no one is watching.

Val



(Hear a Message from Ida - Just Press the "Play" Arrow - make sure your speakers are on.)



Friday's Freaky Fotos!

Bald IS b-e-a-utiful ...baby!

We have follicles coming back!

Locks of Love - I told mom I would give her some of my follicles for transplantation! ;o)

Just another day for Team LoCo!

Chia mom by Ronco!

Submitted by Andy:

What a surprise today when I picked mom up for her radiation treatment Thursday and she was sporting some hair! She said she just felt like wearing a hairpiece today, and she looked very nice. But then when does she not when she travels with us. I must say quite dapper with that bastone of hers. As we headed to Dallas, we again ran the A to Z list of things to talk about. Kinda like a non-stop bombardment of all things: Life Longo and Love.

It is amazing the number of people that come into Med Cities for radiation treatment. The past two days, we saw a few patients coming into the facility on stretchers. Of course, because of their special non- ambulatory condition, the schedules were put back a little. Not a problem, which is why we are, called patients. Ya gotta have some when dealing with medicine and schedules.

Everyone at the facility has been so nice each and every time I’ve gone with mom. It truly takes a special calling to do this type of job. But they are on the ball over there! They checked mom out twice with the new look, making sure they had the right person. Even said some nice things about how she didn’t look her age. 10,000,000 suck up points to you all! And thanks for taking such great care of all those whom enter those doors. You make the journey a little more comfortable.

For David

It seems that everyone wants to be in or a part of something that is larger than the person themselves. As we grow and I have seen this with my two young daughters, there is a need to be in the club. If you watch children on a playground, they will over time develop their own individual social groups. And of course, the toughest question at recess is “do you want to be in my club?”

As we grow older, high school and later college associations vie for our membership to join various educational clubs or sororities. As we grow even older, professional associations and trade groups bind us together with people who have similar interests in careers and what we hope to be life long connections and friendships.

If we choose to get married, again social circles and friends form parts of our personal time, then the addition of children, family and even pets continues to define who we are.

All the above are fun happy things that as we grow older, allow us to reflect on what a good life we have truly lived. But what happens if we are drawn to others because of illness or disability. Certainly one can say that it was not by choice. Maybe questioning why? Did I deserve this cross to carry in life? And unless you personally walk the very steps as a patient or family member, can you only truly understand the weight of that cross in the group of those suffering from Cancer.

Today was mid point for the five weeks radiation treatment for mom depending on how you calculated it. As usual, the Tollway was slow, so we got there right on time. Mom and I talked about a variety of things, but she was somewhat stuck on the image and sorrow of children who suffered from Cancer and how all children deserve to be healthy and happy doing what children were born to do. But then mom is like that. She worries about everyone. The troops, family, cop, firefighters, the homeless, the shut in, the sick. My goodness her prayer list must be volumes long.

Mom’s treatments lasted a bit longer today, leaving me to hang out in the waiting room a little longer than usual. We were a little late getting back and one of my guys called to be sure everything was OK. A gruff soul, but when the chips are down he is a softie.

While sitting in the waiting area, different people reacted to me differently than others. A handshakes by one, a glance by another. Some smiled, some said hi, some just walked by. Then a nicely dressed lady walked by with a young boy who had a smile from one ear to the other. That Magic Johnson boyish smile! As he walked by, his eyes were as big as saucers. His baseball cap pushed to the left, slightly up on one side. But what struck me was the smile this young man had. As he walked by, I said, “how are you”, which he replied “FINE” matter of factly. He then took his seat with his mom a few chairs down the row.

About ten minutes after arriving, he got up and moved over to me where I was sitting, sort of leaning to the left in the chair. He asked, “So what’s it like being a police officer” he questioned. “Great” I told him. “Although I never thought I would be one when I was your age.” His mom, seeing were had struck up a conversation said he always wanted to be a police officer when he grows up. Wow, I was impressed! A young man his age knowing what he wanted to be in life. And so began our conversation on what it is like to be a police officer. And all the while, that beautiful, beautiful smile. The smile that says “I’m on top of the world look at me!”

Our talk lasted about twenty minutes until mom came out. Which gave me plenty of time to tell this young man all the secrets of law enforcement work. That what you see on television is not what most police officers do. He knew that was phony all along. And when we got to the part of what helping others meant to the job, he said “I like that.” Just as we were finishing up, mom came out explaining her delay was due to a consult and some additional X-rays. “We’re moving right along,” she said.

She noticed my friend and mom asked if we were talking. I said “yep”, “this is David and he wants to be a police officer”. David got up and still wearing that smile and extended his hand to say hello to mom. We kidded for a few seconds when I stuck my head next to moms and said “see this is my mom, noticed the similar good looks?”
David laughed. That smile getting bigger than ever. Mom introduced herself to David’s mother and asked if he was sick. His mother simply nodded slightly holding back a few tears. Then mom reached out, and said “can I give you a hug?” David still smiling reached out with both hands and grabbed big momma like she was his own, not letting go. And they held each other for a few moments. Next, she told his mother she needed a hug too and his mother released a few tears that she was holding inside. David’s mom said today was his first day, and next week he was scheduled to be in the hospital.

We talked briefly, and I told David to hurry up and become that police officer so he could carry on for me. I said we need nice guys like you to carry on for us older guys. David, still smiling simply nodded and we bumped knuckles to say goodbye for now.

David, age 15 had been welcomed into the group with love from a stranger, with no bigger a heart ever known. And mom and I slowly walked out to the truck hand in hand thinking about our new friend David and how he blessed our life today. David went to the top of her prayer list today. I cannot think of a better person to have in my corner.

Give your children an extra hung tonight for David’s sake. And add him to your prayer list too!

Andy

Responsibility

As Willie Nelson would say, we’re “on the road again” to Med Cities!
I had heard rumors that mom would be dressed in black and white today. They were not rumors. She looked just like that round cookie we ate as kids that had the half-white icing and half-chocolate icing kind of meeting in the middle. Then to top it all off, she had that fuzzy white hat that looked something like a Drakes Snowball cake. O.K, so I have food on my mind as I write this.

Also in tow, was her bastone. A major mental hurdle, but perhaps a temporary aid as her knees is bothering her a bit. Mom’s side of the family has the long bloodlines and let’s not forget the good looks, but the knees, faggetaboutit! So now she has a pointing stick and we have to remember not to lip off to her, as her “attack range” for a smack in the head is now extended by about three feet.

The treatment room was running a little behind schedule, which I like sometimes. Keeping the treatments on your timetable and having it wait for when you’re ready. HA! One Mississippi, Two Mississippi, Three Mississippi (you get the idea).

Couldn’t talk mom into coffee today or lunch, but we again had some pretty good conversation. She shared a story when she first moved down here to Texas, and started to work with L.I.S.D in the kitchen. Yes Adam Sandler, momma Ida was a lunchroom Lady! Not that she needed to work, just something to get her out of the house and as it would turn out, following the first set of her grandchildren Michael and Joseph through their elementary grades. She even served my wife Rachel lunches when she was at Camey. Which is another story for another time.

Now mom always had a great heart. Still does! If you approached her and said Ida, can I borrow a dollar, she’d give you two. Even if she didn’t have it. And when she worked in the kitchen, what hurt her heart the most were children who didn’t have their lunch money. Now the school cannot let kids go hungry, so they had the Column B lunch. PBJ and water. Broke mom’s heart to see some of the kids eating the free lunch when everyone else was eating pizza or burgers or spaghetti. Back then the lunches she said were $1.05. (Tells ya how long ago it was). So she’d tell the kids that forgot their money,” let me see how responsible you are”. And she’d give the child a dollar and five cents to get a regular lunch. But there was a catch! They had to promise that they would pay her back the next day. They said they would, and in all the years she worked in the various kitchens they all always did. Not once did she not get her money back from one of the children. For they all showed wonderful responsibility.

I don’t share this conversation to make my mom out to be a Mother Theresa. Remember that she hits in the head with a wooden spoon. But what it reminds me is that there are times we need to trust and show responsibility to others when everything in life says “this one is gonna hurt”. A kitchen life lesson if you will. And sometimes, with a little luck and prayer, it works out for the best. Who’s to say that maybe someone out there reading this now didn’t pass through one of those momma Ida lunch lines. Each day in life we all come across those people who maybe we may not take a second notice of. I’ve come to realize through my career of 28 years in public safety that sometimes you need to show compassion and grace to people. And at times, it is difficult to do. But it is a lesson I learned from mom. And what does my heart good is when our paths cross months or years later and they remember me for the good I did for them. How wonderful this world would be, if we all just helped each other through this lunch line we call life.

Here’s to the moms and lunch ladies everywhere!

A special shout out to all my friends at the “cement pond.” Keep strong!

Andy

The Abominable Sno Ball

Since the Great Follicle Fallout of 2006, it has now become normal to see my mom wearing hats. Now she will tell you that she is not a hat person, but as I stated a few months ago, I had procured a nice little collection of head coverings before the follicles fled. So each day, I arrive at Casa de Longo with great anticipation as to “the hat of the day.”

When I walked into the house, I found mom sitting in her chair, sporting my favorite hat. It is white and made from “eye-lash” yarn – so named because it is very fine, soft and fluttery. Now, this hat reminds me of a childhood snack food – sno-balls. While I thought they were disgusting for human consumption, they were prefect for squeezing. They were like an early version of the stress ball. So as I secured my little “sno-ball” into the truck for transport to Medical City, I could not help but succumb to the urge to squeeze her head. To which she replied, “What are you doing”? “Checking for freshness” I said as I clicked her safety belt in place. Now, since I was in close proximity, I was expecting a smack on the back of the head. But instead I was greeted with a hearty laugh that signaled she was ready to “get this show” on the road.

On the way to Medical City, one of the topics of discussion was a walking cane. I had mentioned to mom a few months ago that it might be something for her to consider…and left it at that. I knew when and if she needed to get one, she would tell me. And it just so happened, this was the day. Now, the cancer and chemo has definitely taken its toll and there are days that she needs a little extra help because she has one knee that acts up a bit. I explained that I would much rather she get a cane and use it when necessary than to risk falling. Who knows, she may not need it long term but better safe than sorry.

The treatment room was running on schedule today and as I escorted mom into the holding area, I got all squishy watching her walk down he hall with people commenting on her hat and how nice she looked. Her nurse pulled me aside and said even they look forward to seeing “the hat” of the day. I told her it’s amazing how I can gage how mom feels simply based on what she is wearing and if she has on make-up – it’s a girl thing! ;)
While we were talking, my mom’s nurse was helpful in providing me the name and location of a medical supply store that offered a wide assortment of walking canes. So armed with that information, I sat in the waiting room waiting for mom to emerge.

I soon spotted my Abominable Sno Ball from the corner of my eye and as I helped her put on her coat, I told her that I had done a little cane recon and if she were feeling up to it, we could take a few models out for a test spin.

Not that I have been to many medical supply stores, but for some reason I had this mental picture in my head of stainless steel accessories in a giant warehouse…that would not have made mom happy. But we were both pleasantly surprised. This was actually a historic building that housed a pharmacy, gift shop and medical accessories under one roof.

As mom took a few models around the block, the salesman asked why she was considering a cane. I gave him the condensed version of the past five months and said that I would prefer she have something that she can lean on (if needed) and it needed to be soft for her hands because she has a touch of arthritis. As mom circled the block, she added that it had to be stylish – how could I forget that!

So as the salesman pulled a few models that fit the bill, mom uttered that at least she made it to eighty before she had to get a cane. This statement caused the salesman to look at me with an all too familiar look. “Yes, she is indeed eighty and ever night I pray that it is genetic.” The salesman smiled and told mom that he was guessing more along the lines of sixty-ish. Well you can imagine how that was received!

We walked out of the store arm in arm with her new lightweight titanium, powder coated black cane …and it was tough getting her back into the vehicle. She was all swelled up like a giant peacock – Big Hambone! :)

Mission accomplished and on the way home, I looked over at mom. She was sitting there with her cane upright, hand propped on top. She looked like the Godfather, or in this case, Godmother! And as we are driving down the Tollway, headed home, she reaches over and grabs my hand. She squeezes real tight (she’s gotten freakishly strong since chemo) and says “Thank you for always being so patient with me.”

I explained to mom that earlier in the week, I had heard a sermon from a very dynamic, young minister in Texas named Joel Osteen. His sermon was about loyalty to family. He pointed out that there are times when people you know will be celebrating victories on the mountain top or fighting like hell in the valleys – it is your job, as a loyal person, to get them to the top of that mountain. It is your job to build them up and speak kindly to keep them moving towards that mountain. He further explained that life is like a big circle. There will come a time in everyone’s life when they will be called to do for those who first did for them. I told mom she called and I answered, plain and simple.

Proverbs 17:17 states that a friend loves at all times, but a brother is born for adversity. My mother often tells me that I am her “miracle child” because she had me when she was in her early forties. I don’t know if that’s a true statement or not, but I do know that each and every night I thank the good Lord for allowing me to be a loyal daughter for my mom – it hasn’t always been easy, but then again adversity never really is. But when I started this journey five and a half months ago, we were in that valley, pretty much face down in the dirt and now look at us …halfway to the summit with the ability to look down on that valley and see just how far we have come.

So when you come across someone facing a challenge or any type of uncertainty in their lives, be loyal to them. Don’t be so quick to leave them alone in the valley. After all, the climb to the top of the mountain is never achieved without some type of assistance.

In the words of “momisan” – be kind, be loving …and family is always first.

(mmmmm....tasty.......)



The Godmother!

The Ballad of Jed Clampett

Blog entry submitted by my radiation wingman, and brother...Andy

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Day eight is under the old belt, after a few weather delays because of ice and snow. Certainly not enough snow by northern standards, but enough to cancel school classes and radiation treatments. I was beginning to think that the weather gods were working against us. Like school though, radiation treatment has makeup days that they add to the end.

On the trip to Med Cities today, mom and I took the family staff car. The Caddy! We made some pretty good time and got her right in. As we pulled up, I thought we had forgotten the blue handicapped rear view window hanger thing-a-ma-jig. Nope, mom had it in her purse right where she put it earlier. A mother’s purse; that bottomless pit of a combination toolbox, lunch box and medicine cabinet. Felix the Cat WISHED he had a bag of tricks like mom’s bag. We talked about that blue piece of plastic in the parking lot for a while. I looked at it like the golden nugget of seniordom! Better than a get out of jail free card. Mom on the other hand saw it as a written realization that yes in fact, you’re getting older. I read somewhere that pretty soon there will be record numbers of persons living on the planet over the age of 100. God bless, we can only hope to all be so lucky. Just as long as quality of life is there, we should all hang around as long as we want.

Mom and I talked about how important music has been and continues to be in our lives. As children, mom was always singing around the house. Pop, the “gotta have it now” audiophile that he is (now I know where I get it from), always had something playing on LP, reel to reel, 8-Track or cassette. On the way back from Dallas today, we had the radio in the staff car cranked. Almost in concert, mom and I both started with a slight head bob. Nothing too obvious at first to jar the delicate “chemo-brain” as she and Val call it. Just keeping time with the music. Then it got a little more intense, more feeling, all together front back front back, neck roll, and shoulders bending, booties shaking. Looked like something from Bill and Ted’s next adventure or a Blue Man Concert! See, music again playing a roll in the world according to Longo.

But back at the hospital before we left, as mom was walking to the treatment room, it hit me! I think the biggest frustration with Cancer or any illness is the lack of control. Now mom and I are not control freaks by any means, but there is frustration in not being able to do what you want to do. Be here at this time for this treatment. Go here at this time for this test. I guess this is why neither of us is a great airplane passenger. I don’t want to be in the back by the bathroom. I want to be up front and know that God forbid anything goes wrong, I did all I could to save me. After all, it is all about ME. (just kidding).

I think Cancer takes that control away from you for a while. We talked about how after she got sick, then pop, everything else that once was a part of who we are as a family was put on hold. All your energy, strength, power, will, prayer and support is now focused on regaining the health of the one who is sick and in turn regaining control. When we got back to her house, she got a little sad that her nice back yard now had a few weeds. Hey it’s winter! But I knew what she was trying to say, it wasn’t like it was.

Which is why sometimes, just sometimes, you gots to ( Brooklyneese) turn the tables on Cancer. Just when it thinks it has you down, feeling low, you have to screw with its schedule and fight back with levity and silliness! This happens to be my specialty. As you can see in some of Valerie’s prior photos, the nut does not fall far from the orange tree.

So right after signing in, as we walk hand in hand to the double doors, I break into a chorus of the Ballad of Jed Clampett. Jed as in Beverly Hillbilly, cement pond Jed. Thinking mom is going to give me “the look,” although I wasn’t sure if it would be one or two eyes. But the “look” never comes. Two more steps and I know it is laying in wait. No look? What the &%$*#?

Then it happens. A DUET! Both of us are singing and surprisingly enough, mom knows the damn words! We look like Dorothy and the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz on the yellow brick road skipping to the words of a 1960’s sitcom! Mom even admits she liked the show.

So as you read this entry today, I am going to change the format and offer an opportunity for audience participation!
Scroll down to the lyrics, warm up those tonsils and be you solo or in the company of your best duet partner, belt out the lines to that great American T.V sitcom and screw with Cancer! Hit me one time as Brother James Brown would say, and sing like you’re trying out for American Idol!



Come and listen to a story 'bout a man named JedPoor mountaineer barely kept his family fedThen one day he was shooting for some food,And up through the ground come a bubbling crude(Oil that is, black gold, Texas tea)Well the first thing you know old Jed's a millionaireKin folk said Jed move away from thereSaid California is the place you oughta beSo they loaded up the truck and they moved to Beverly(Hills that is, swimming pools, movie stars)


I close in the words of that great comedian Red Skeleton: “And may God Bless” For we should never take any of His blessings for granted.

Andy

Funiculi, Funicula!

As you might have noticed, my blog is a little behind. I have been a bit under the weather for a few days, but all is well and I am determined to get everyone up to speed.

As you might have seen on the news, Texas has been a hit and miss for ice storms this past week. And while we were spared a significant wrath from Mother Nature, we did get a few days of slipping and sliding that caused us to have to cancel two days of treatments. But they will just be tacked onto the backend of the treatment schedule.

I arrived at Casa de Longo on Thursday for my designated day of “Driving Miss Ida” ;)
And one would have thought I was the prodigal son. I was greeted rather enthusiastically by mom, who exclaimed “I missed you.” I thought perhaps the “chemo brain” had caused her to forget that she just saw me two days ago and I called her yesterday. So when I kindly reminded her of that fact she looked at me from behind those wide-rimmed glasses, smiled and said, “I know that, I just missed you.” As my husband would say…that made me all squishy.”

So we gathered her radiation survival kit, which has a whopping two items in it, a box of juice and that very handy, blue plastic parking pass and away we went. As we are cruising down the road, we start talking about everything that has occurred in the past 48 hours since we have actually seen each other. And by the time we pulled into the parking lot at Med City we had discussed, religion, Rachel Ray’s recipes of the week, school, babies and American Idol.

After I walked mom through the double doors for her treatment, I went to work in the waiting area trying to coordinate her other appointments for the day. We still have to monitor her blood counts on a weekly basis, and rather than drive from one hospital to another, I vowed to adopt the Sam Walton theory of medical needs – one stop shopping!

It just so happens that her pulmonary doctor is located in another building at Medical City, so I called them to see if we could some how coordinate all her medical appointments into one central location. Thankfully, they were very understanding and told us that we could use the open lab at Medical City and they would fax the orders for the blood work to them right away.

When mom re-emerged from behind the doors leading to the treatment area, she was grinning like a Cheshire cat and holding a piece of paper. She had met with Dr, Macko (her radiologist) who told her everything was going well and she was progressing nicely. That’s the kind of news you like to hear!

We sat in the waiting room for a few moments discussing what the doctor had said and I told mom that I got her blood work orders moved to this hospital for convenience. I then asked her if she thought she could walk from Building D to Building A to get the blood work done. If not I would bring the car around or push her down the hall in a wheel chair.

To which mom replied, “Like hell …I can walk”

So down the hall we went, hand in hand, stopping to admire the paintings on the wall. Now, I don’t know how the animals did it when they were getting on the Arc, but walking two-by-two down a hospital corridor is not an easy thing to do, especially with on coming traffic. So as we moved to the side to make way for a delivery cart, mom looked at me and said she had forgotten to tell me that the doctor had given her a direct line to call incase she could not make her appointment due to inclement weather. I asked her if she had put the phone number in her purse. She looked at me and said “Nope.” And then she proceeded to raise her hand to her hat. She took her hat off her head and pulled a yellow post-it out of the inside brim and handed it to me. I just about fell over because I was laughing so hard. Mom asked me why I was laughing and I told her I thought she was going to do some magic trick and pull a rabbit out of her hat. And without skipping a beat she looked at me and said, “Now, wouldn’t that be something, a bald lady pulling some hair out of her hat!” (hare..hair…get it!) Cancer or not…she’s still kept her sense of humor! :)

We were able to contain our laughter just as we got to the doors of the lab. Mom got all comfy, cozy in the waiting room as I checked her in. And soon after I joined her, a lone, masked man entered the waiting room. Under normal circumstances, this would have been a welcomed site for Chemosabe. But this is a hospital, sick people gather here and I kid you not…my eyes become as big as saucers. Each and every time that door opened to receive another person for blood work, I prayed that I would hear, “Longo” or some variation to the name (Logo, Long, Bongo, Bingo..whatever…just call the name!)

Finally, mom’s name was called and we were in and out pretty quickly. Now, I know mom thinks I am a hypochondriac germaphobe, but there is a reason people come to hospitals – they are sick. If I were around healthy people, I would not be so concerned. So as we proceeded back to our area of origination, I was sure I was leaving a trail of Germ-X behind me – sort of like a modern day Gretel!

We finished our appointed rounds at the hospital and headed back home. I had to make a detour to return something for the hubby and while I was standing at the checkout, I remember my mom saying something about how she wanted a new coffee cup. It had to have a pedestal on the bottom. She says the pedestal keeps the bottom of the cup from getting too hot when she holds it. Then low and behold, out of the corner of my eye..what did I spy? You guessed it – a pedestal coffee cup and it was in mom’s colors. She is very particular about colors – nothing too bold or gaudy patterns. So I asked the lady to please ring the cup up and there was no need to wrap it as the recipient was patiently waiting in the car.

As I jumped back into the driver’s seat, I looked over at mom and said, “Here, don’t say I never give you anything.” The squeal that came out of that woman’s mouth along with a tearful, “you remembered,” reminded me of that little boy who got the golden ticket in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. The woman finds such joy in the smallest of gestures – now I know where I get it from! :o)

On the way back to the house, mom wanted to take a little detour to grab a sammy. We went to Il Grano. It’s a small Italian café run by bona fide Italians. We grabbed a small bite and recapped the day and as we walked back to the car, arm in arm, we broke into impromtu song and belted out our rendition of Funiculi, Funicula! (I think some suspected we might have had one too many Chiantis.)

For the record, there should be a warning label on that song as to its “catchiness.” It’s been in my head for three days and I am convinced that I whistle it in my sleep!

Ah well…until tomorrow – be kind and be loving, embrace the goofiness and Funiculi, Funicula! :o)

I see Jesus

Hello All….

As noted last week, since my mom’s radiation schedule is Monday-Friday, we have split the driving duties between my brother (Andy) and me.

And as I explained to my brother, part of the “radiation rotation” schedule is the submission of blog entries. So the following is the first blog submission from Andy and mom’s Big Adventure.

Love to you all,

Val

-----------------------------------------------


They say that people, whom loose one of their five senses, have their remaining senses enhanced. I think the same can be said for those who suffer illness.

Today was my turn to be “wheel man” for mom’s trip to Med Cities Dallas. Part of the job according to Val, is writing an entry for the blogeroo! Valerie has been making the trek for the first week. And doing one hell of a job! I had to wait until I got clearance Clarence from “the job” to use some FMLA time. I leave for a few hours taking sick time, getting her to her treatment and then once she is doing OK back at the casa Longo, head back to work.

So we loaded the green bus and off to Dallas. Mom was commenting that it must have looked funny a cop driving an old lady to Dallas. Sorry, but the story of Ma Barker has already been made into a screenplay mom. It made me feel like Secret Service driving the big dark colored Suburban down the Dallas North Tollway. I also got the opportunity to use our new electronic toll tag. No more searching for quarters, although mom had a stack of them when I got to her house to pick her up. At least it wasn’t an offer for a “nice Swiss cheese or provolone sandwich”. Did I mention that she always has the “good bread” as if there was any other kind?

Everything went fairly quickly, although arriving a little early. We had hoped to slide in and slide right out. She made an impression when she arrived and signed in a-la What’s my Line with a cop standing next to her. I just told the staff that I found her walking on LBJ Frwy and she looked like she needed a place to be. Sorry, Medical Cities was the first place that came to mind. NOT!

Anyway, while mom was in the back getting her radiation treatment for the day, I found myself sitting in the waiting room, eyes closed and listening. Listening to the sound of people coming in and out, various doors closing and the distinct sound a metal one made over a glass sliding door. Men and ladies coming in for their treatments and the sound their individual footwear made on the floor as they walked by.

I heard the Fed-Ex (shameless plug) man and his electronic reader “beep” as he scanned a package. Then the other noises as he confirmed the signature and verified another delivered package was safely delivered.

I listened to the soft voices of the staff, as they instructed a first time patient in a calming and soothing voice how to drink that nasty barium yuck. And how “the pictures” would be much better if it was drunken s.l.o.w.l.y.

I heard a grandmother review in the distance, multiplication tables with a young boy named Peter, who twice now I’ve seen come in for radiation treatments. And an ever so distant sigh of relief, when a husband came out to be reunited with his wife.

All the time holding mom’s coat and it smelled like mom. Not to say mom needs a bath! Noticing that the clothing, like the house she has lived in all these years was part of her. That warm mom, pot of sauce, Italian, love smell. You’ve all had them, maybe just not taking time to notice.

On the way back, a stop at Starbucks and a slice of marble pound cake split in two in the truck. And a street sign named Suffolk! Yep, Suffolk. Imagine that.

And in the course of our talk coming home, we shared a story about an incident two Christmas’ ago. Coming back from church on Christmas Eve, THE CHUMB (Kristen to the rest of the world) calls out. “Dad,” “Yes,” I said thinking she wanted a slurpee or something. “I see Jesus,” She said. I’m thinking OK it’s Christmas, we just left church that is understandable. Then she said a second time, “Dad, I really see Jesus!”
Now I’m beginning to worry or at the very least think we need to talk. Mom, who was in the front seat of the truck at the time, recalls thinking maybe this is a divine presence coming to her four-year-old granddaughter. After all, Jesus DOES love children!
Then a third time, Kristen says; “Dad, I see Jesus and he’s right there see?”
Now everyone in the truck is looking and we don’t see Jesus. Anywhere in the truck, side of the road, in the sky, no Jesus. Our response to The Chumb is that yes; Jesus is with us each and every day of our lives.

Frustrated, Kristen once more says: “DAD, I SEE JESUS AND THERE HE IS!”
And just as we pass a streetlight, on the front windshield, we catch the reflected image of the baby Jesus in his manger from a church bulletin mom had placed on the dashboard of the truck after mass. All along the ride home, Kristen was seeing Jesus!

And that night, we all saw Jesus. But it took an intensive effort of a few adults, to see what a simple child saw all along.

I suppose we should all take the time to hear what we normally don’t hear and see what we normally don’t see. Sometimes things we take as a disability help us to only be a better person.

Here’s hoping you too See Jesus!

Radiation Ice Day

Can I just say ….brrrrrrrrrrr – it’s mighty cold here in Texas!

Well, all the hoopla about a huge ice storm coming turned out to be incorrect. While we did have some icing on the bridges and overpasses (along with some patchy spots) here and there …all and all it was uneventful.

The nice thing was mom’s radiology team called before we left the house this morning and told us to stay home, be safe and stay nice and warm and toasty. I thought that was a very nice thing to do. Most of the time they tell you that you could have skipped coming after you’ve already made the white-knuckle journey!

Mom is having a great day today, I spoke with her this morning and she was just relaxing and enjoying a quiet afternoon – it’s good to have those kinds of days.

Tomorrow we start week two of radiation. I’ve calculated the days set aside for treatment and we should have the last radiation on February 12th – just in time for Valerie’s Day …I mean Valentine’s Day. ;)

We have gotten a lot of wonderful messages and they have all been passed on to mom. We thank you all for you kindness, words of encouragement and for keeping us all in your thoughts and prayers.

Take care of one another…and for those of you who need to…stay dry and toasty.

Week One is Done

Okie Dokie!

We have week one of radiation under our belts! Friday was the last day and it's a good thing since we are expected to have a really big winter storm here. And for those of you that are not familiar with Texas, winter storm here usually means ice more so than snow. And while I would take mom anywhere she needs to go, we are not slipping and sliding our way to Medical City! I have this fear of sliding off one of those overpasses and plummeting roughly a hundred feet to my doom – hey…it could happen, so better safe than sorry. ;)

Friday was the completion of our first week of radiation. Everything went well and mom was having a great day. It’s amazing were and when you sometimes cross paths with people from your past.

Once mom was through with her treatment, she came out to the family waiting area and told me that she had run into her oncologist who treated her for breast cancer back in 1998. Talk about being a small world!

Mom said that she and Dr. Gilbert chatted for awhile and he asked how she was doing. She gave him the condensed version of the past five months and he asked her if he could sneak a peak at her chart. Mom said he scanned though it reassured her that she should see some good results at the end of her treatment.

When dealing with cancer, doctors never really say “everything is going to be fine” or “you will be okay”, which I understand because you never really know what will happen, especially when you are dealing with anything higher than a Stage 1 cancer. But as far as Dr. Gilbert’s comment, I think for my mom that was just about as close as you can get to saying to saying “everything’s going to be fine.”

We left Medical City anticipating that we would probably skip Monday’s treatment and take a radiation snow/ice day. I had to swing by the store and get the basics before the bad weather set in and asked mom if she wanted to come along.

I swear to goodness sake, that woman is at the top of the “Who’s Who” list for The Colony. We could not make it from one end of the store to the other without people stopping and asking how she was doing. Those that know about the cancer just lit up when they saw her and those they didn’t know gave her a hand squeeze or hug when she told them. I think it does a lot for her psyche to get out and about again and visit. The woman is a true social butterfly!


She gets stronger by the day, even though radiation makes her tired. I suggested she set aside a specific time every day, just an hour or so, to take a power nap or just lie down and recharge. Now, for those of you that know my mom, she will tell you that she doesn’t “do naps” because she thinks they are for old people. News flash! Val takes a power nap every now and then and I told her if it made her feel better, I would be more than happy to nap along with her at my house! Now that’s sacrificing for the one you love, people! ;)

Things are moving along in a positive direction. This month she is going to take me up on an offer I made before Christmas – to take her to a Woman’s Cancer Support Group meeting. They meet once a month for coffee and fellowship and I think it would be really good for her, and now that she’s not doing the chemo, she said she is feeling better and would like to go.

While I would like to think that I could be all things to all people – it’s just not so. There are certain things that I can not identify with and that is having cancer and moving through the treatment plan. I have done all that I can do, but I think mom still has some healing to do on the inside. I know during some of our conversations, she sometimes still asks why she had to get cancer twice. One may never really know the answer to that question, but I think it would be extremely helpful to be able to sit with other survivors and at least ponder the question.

That’s our update for the week and now we are going to hunker down and brace for the lovely ice storm that is headed our way!

As my mom always says, “be kind and loving to each other” and know that your prayers are being heard and your kind thoughts are being felt.

Love to you all and thank you for your continued support!

(And don’t make fun of my early morning artwork…I hadn’t had my first cup of coffee and without Photoshop, I was working with limited resources – dried up makers! ;)

3 Down 22 To Go

We’ve had three radiation treatments as of today. Things are going well and mom is doing fine…a little tired, but fine.

We met with her radiologist, Dr, Macko today and she said so far, so good. Mom had x-rays the first two days and Dr. Mack explained today that the reason they do that is so she can verify that the radiation’s trajectory is being aimed at the places she mapped out in our “meet and greet” visit.

That’s kind of cool that even though the doctor’s not there, she knows exactly what is going on.

Tomorrow, I will be passing the baton to my brother, Andy. Because radiation is five days straight for almost a month, he is going to take mom a few days out of the week. It’s been a long five months and with school starting on Monday, it’s helpful to have a back-up – even the best of us needs a break every now and then. I know mom is ready for a few days without doctors and/or appointments. But once this is all over and done with – Vegas, baby…Vegas!

All in all it was a good day today. We stopped at a little European coffee shop today for a panini and a cup of joe and then did a little shopping.

Be kind to one another and blessings to you all!

First Day of School vs First Day of Radiation

Today was our first day of radiation! I found a certain irony in the fact that in a couple of days, I will be starting my spring college semester. I was hoping to have finished last semester, but with mom’s surgery and the chemo, I just was not in the mood to worry about school or to really focus for that matter.

So I picked up my little lima bean at 9am. Our scheduled radiation time is 10am, Monday-Friday and the hospital is about 25 minutes away – if I have a clear path down the Tollway. ;)

As a loaded her into the car, I started to think about all the similarities that the first day of radiation and the first day of school have. Mom was all dressed up with a nice little sweater, her beanie cap and make-up. Much like school, you want to make a good impression on the first day!


So we are driving along and she gets a little misty. I am sure it was nerves, not knowing what to expect and the anticipation of meeting the technician, again …very similar to the first day of school (I think I cried every first day of the new school year until I was at least 7!) Now, every now and again, I have to remind my mom about how far she has come. I don’t think she fully appreciates the magnitude of the situation. She was diagnosed with Stage IVa endometrial sarcoma, people. Basically, since the cancer had spread to the bowel, it was considered an “advanced cancer.” Only 3% of this stage of cancer is caught early enough to really be impacted by treatment. The only other stop on this crazy train was a Stage IVb, which means that the cancer has spread to other organs throughout the body. So sometimes I have to break out the tough love speech and remind her of that fact, combined with major surgery and chemo and the fact that you did all that in your 80th year – heck yeah you are a walking miracle …and as my people would say (as unlady like as it is) hey …cancer …. vaffanculo!

Once I smacked her around a bit (just kidding) and we got to the hospital, we were good to go. My mom’s technician came out, took her by the hand and off they went. While I was waiting in the “holding tank” for my mom to come back, I started to talk to some of the other folks around me – it’s amazing the kind of kinship you can build with others in a brief amount of time.

Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mom walk through the double doors, with her little beanie cap on, giving me the thumbs up and grinning ear-to-ear …and for the first-time in a few months, I lost it in public.

The first day of radiation is much like my first days of school when I was a youngster. My mom always dressed me to the nines, drove me to school, held my hand, walked me to the door and made sure I was comfortable with the teacher before she left me. And at the end of the day, when the school bell rang and I ran outside to go home, she was always the first face I saw – waiting their with open arms and smiling from ear-to-ear …asking how everything went and admiring that macaroni necklace or scribbled self-portrait, as if it was done by Picasso himself. (As a matter of fact, she still has all that stuff.)
Oddly, the exact things my mom did for me thirty years ago are the same things I am doing for her as she works her way through each treatment.

Today, when my mom finished radiation and came down that hallway smiling ear-to-ear…I had a revelation. With tears running down my face, I got it! - This was her macaroni necklace – getting through her first radiation treatment. This was her moment to shine with confidence because she did it.

You have a lot more “macaroni necklace” moments in your future mom and I will look at each and every one of them as if they came in a blue Tiffany’s box – precious and beautiful!

Because the Longo/Conley girls never end the day on a serious note, we stopped off at Starbucks for a Dolce Cinnamon Latte and a cranberry scone …and fought off the paparazzi.

Enjoy the photos of the day and know that we love each and every one of you and thank you all for your continued prayers and support.

See you tomorrow…same bat time….same bat channel!

P.S. - Note in the last picture...I spy something white and fuzzy - We have follicle sightings a month after her last chemo! ;)

I'm a Bad Mother

Remember how I touched on chemo brain a few posts back and I said that I thought it was contagious?

Well, I did the most horrific thing to date on Friday. After I dropped my mom off at her house (following her blood work), I decided to bring home some take-out. I just got up feeling tired on Friday and really not in the mood to cook when I got home.

My husband, James and I, have two dogs. We thought before we committed to raising another life for eighteen years, we should start slow and see if we could keep a dog healthy and happy. Now we each have a strong bond with a specific dog. My dog, Ryker tends to stay near me, while Ruger is spoiled rotten by my husband.

Usually when I get home, the front door opens and out come my boys to great me. And after a few minutes, we all go back into the house. Well, on Friday, as I worked my way into the kitchen, I assumed that my boys were behind me. As I worked my way to the dining room, with take-out in hand, I noticed a black tail go past the front window.

I distinctly remember thinking to myself, “What idiot would let their dog run loose in the neighborhood?” As I put dinner on the table, I walked towards the window and saw the tail go by again, but this time I noticed a red collar around a very familiar face – It was our boy! I had closed the front door on my husband’s dog, Ruger!

Now, let’s just say that if anything happened to that dog while it was in my care, I might as well move out and leave no forwarding address.

But thankfully, when I opened the front door and called his name, bouncing through the door he came. I felt so bad for actually forgetting to make sure that he had come in that I spent fifteen minutes apologizing to this dog. Of course, he had no clue what I was saying, but after a few squeezes of his favorite squeaky ball …all was forgiven.

There are days when I am amazed that I put my shoes on the correct feet!


(These are my boys ...my husband is the one in the middle, Ryker is on the left and Ruger is to the right - it's such a handsome little family!)

She's a Keeper

Friday was blood work day – woohoo…my mom so looks forward to that! Since she is still being treated for that pesky DVT (no signs of blockage, but they usually treat for a few months after as a precaution), we have blood drawn every week to monitor the counts/levels. Not to mention, low counts is a side effect of radiation, so we want to make sure that we have good levels before Monday.

The nurse that came to take my mom back and draw her blood was very sweet. Now it takes my mom a few minutes to “get her sea legs” once she stands up and the nurse put her arm out to give my mom some stability and off they went.

When they came around the corner a few minutes later and the nurse tried to hand her off to me, I told her …”Sorry all sales are final, no refunds or exchanges!”

Just kidding people! My mom had a great day and her blood counts were high– they are all doing their job and circling the wagon, gearing up for Monday.

Her hair is even starting to sprout. Oh wait …I forgot….hair was one of my new Italian words for the day. So…I should say that her i cappeli is starting to sprout. ;)

Our Ritual

So my mom and I have this ritual and it’s been going on for at least 3 months. Whenever she has a treatment or doctor’s appointment (more often than not) we stop for lunch, ice cream, coffee, shopping, whatever. She says it’s her way of doing something for me since I give up so much of my time – whatever mom! But there is no fighting her on this – chemo or not, she can still take her shoe off and smack me up side the head!

Now, we’ve been to some places that have really grown on her: Pei Wei Asian Diner, Snuffer’s (the cheddar cheese fries alone can cure what ails you) and Paciugo for Italian gelato and since her treatments are not everyday, I can still button my pants! When radiation starts, we’ll probably make Starbucks Coffee our ritual.

SO we are sitting in Pei Wei today and she looks over at me and looks a bit concerned. I asked her what was wrong. And she told me she was going to miss being with me all the time. Since, I am not the type to miss a golden opportunity to use my sharp wit … I told her, “I hear you …I’m going to miss all these free lunches. I may have to start cruising the neighborhood for old people who need a ride. This could be a pretty lucrative side business.”

That’s twice I have made her shoot soda out of her nose – it’s all in a days work!

Seriously, I told her that we would still do lunches as often as she wanted to and as long as I could comfortably button my pants! :)

The moral of this story, as I have said before, cancer sucks, but I have to say that I have enjoyed the time I have gotten to be with my mom and the opportunity to make her shoot carbonated beverages out of her nose. Her cancer has given us yet another gift, the ability to spend a lot of time together not just as mother and daughter, but as friends.

Life is good!

I Could Have Been a Doctor

Yeah…right…I already confessed that I am a sympathetic puker! But I got the greatest compliment from Dr. Macko (my mom’s radiologist) today.

She pulled me aside in the hall and asked if I had a background in medicine!? At first, I thought she was going to finish the sentence with “then hush and let me do my job”, but she said the way I rattled off my mom’s chemo drugs, blood counts and treatment plan so far, she figured that I had a background in medicine!

I told her, absolutely not. I have just been listing very astutely since August to what each and every doctor has said and filed it into my little brain box! She said she was very impressed.

Of course the way my mom perked-up and grinned, you would have thought I had a degree in medicine. And to think, when she first had surgery I thought I was doing good to mimic a Candy Striper!

Just goes to show … how important it is to pay attention and ask questions. It makes you a better cancer supporter.

She Radiates

Today was our radiation “meet and greet” with Dr. Macko – who happens to be a very sweet woman …again, compassionate and caring as well as knowledgeable.

We spent at least 5 hours with her. The first few hours were the standard question and answer session followed by what to expect from the radiation.

Since my mom went through radiation back in 1998 when she had breast cancer, this is a place in our journey that she is familiar with. While there are a lot of things to know, its’ not as much as with the chemo and the side affects are not as prevalent.

The big thing will be tiredness. They say it takes a year to fully recovery from the surgery and I am sure that the body is still a little out of what from the chemo.

Good news is that we only have to do 25 treatments. They initially predicted 33, but I learned an interesting thing today. They base the length of radiation of the part of the body/organ they are targeting. They now exactly how many treatments an area can take before you (for lack of a better word) over cook it.

We start on Monday, January 8th and pretty much go non-stop, every week, until mid-February. Since this is winter in Texas, if we get a round of bad weather and miss a day, they tack it on at the end – kind of like a radiation snow day!

Of course, I did tell mom that I could stand her in front of the microwave, with the door open, and set the timer…I mean if it’s good enough to cook a potato than its good enough for my mom! (I’m kidding of course.)

Mom got her markings today. They basically lay you on a giant wooden bed, take x-rays and mark the precise spots with a Sharpie and tattoo ink exactly where the radiation beams will hit each and every time. It’s pretty interesting how they can pinpoint the exact placement and while it took almost an hour to mark her up, this will make her actual treatments go much quicker.

They are going to radiate four sides (front, back and both sides) for a few minutes each. They expect each treatment to last about 30 minutes from the time we get her situated to the time we walk out the door – not bad!

So mom is going to relax around the house until Monday and then we hit the ground running.

Love to you all and I will keep you updated!

Our First CT Scan

We finished our first CT scan and we finally have some good news that we are moving in the right direction.

There are no signs that the cancer has metastasized any further. What a blessing to end the year on.

Tomorrow is our meet and greet with our radiologist and we are hoping for s short cycle of radiation, but we will take whatever we get.

I’ll be sure to post an update tomorrow for family and friends – say a prayer for us tonight and blessings to you all!

Chemo Brain – Fact or Fiction

When you go for chemo orientation, they introduce you to Chemo Brain – this is an actual, bona fide side affect of chemo therapy. Sometimes you become a little forgetful and may not be able to recall a certain conversation.

If you think about it, chemo kills all the cells including those hard working little brain cells, so it’s a miracle you can remember to put your underwear on the right way! ;)

This is where it is helpful to have a system – have a calendar exclusively for treatment and get yourself one of those pill boxes that will allow you to sort your meds by day and time.

If you are in a supporting role for a cancer patient, make sure you take the time to review the meds necessary for chemo treatment. You are the extra set of eyes – it’s good to let a cancer patient do as much as they can on their own, but there is nothing wrong with secretly double checking!

Chemo brain can be contagious. There were days that I could not remember if I fed the dog (or my husband) and while I could rattle off my mother’s information for all those flipping forms, I had to stop and think hard to recall what street I lived on!

I think it’s your body’s way of de-cluttering itself in times of stress. It was almost as if my brain would auto-delete things that were not important at this particular time. Thank you brain cells for putting things on auto-pilot and helping me out!

Helpful Hint:

Be prepared once chemo starts – there are days that you might have to repeat yourself, medical instructions or have the same conversation. Be patient; while you may think it’s frustrating … imagine how a cancer patient must feel.

The Five Month Marker

It’s been five months since my mom was diagnosed with Stage 4 endometrial sarcoma and as I stated at the beginning of this blog, cancer will teach you a lot if you let it.

I have learned that what seemed important and significant yesterday, is not so today and now. We are an over scheduled society addicted to doing everything in the fast lane. We assume that we can put off tomorrow, what we might like to do today – don’t let that happen to you.

My family has always been close, but like so many things in life, you get wrapped up in your own life that you sometimes forget to see the beauty in the smallest of things. Take time to appreciate the breeze across your face, the birds chirping in your back yard and the joy in just being still and acutely aware of all the beauty around you.

There days when you have no idea what to say or do and that’s okay –sometimes just being on the side of the bed, letting someone know you are there gives them all the strength in the world – find the joy in that.

Look for your blessings in the most difficult of times. I promise they are there if you truly look for them with open eyes. And take the time to celebrate them. When blood counts are high, chemo side affects seem less, stubble grows back – find the joy in that and be grateful. They are all small blessings that work together to move you forward.

Find your Lifesong – we each have precious gifts that can bring comfort and joy to those when they need it most. Whether it is through similar experiences, food, humor, time …whatever it is, let your gifts sing as loud as they can during this journey.

My mom will tell you that I have a pretty good sense of humor (it’s a common trait for all her kids) and I have realized that humor is the prelude to faith and laughter is the beginning of prayer.

Speaking of my mom – that has been my greatest discovery along this journey, I always knew what a precious gift she has been to this family. I always knew that she had an unsurpassed strength, faith and compassionate soul that just makes people want to be close to her … but she has raised those attributes to a new level. It's amazing how many people will say that she is an inspiration. My eyes fill with tears and my heart dances with joy each and every time she enters a room.

I am grateful to have been able to walk with her on this journey. I once told her that we would get through this together – and we have. There were times when it was not easy for her and I think that is when it got to me most. But we made it mommy, maybe a little slower and with a little less hair – but we made it! We are half way there and you are kicking cancer's ass!!

I am so proud of you for being so courageous and not considering forgoing treatment. You have a lot more life to share and so many things to see...and perhaps one more grandchild on the horizon.

Ti voglio bene!

At the end of the day, if you can look back and know that you loved a little longer, spoke a little softer, offered comfort to those who needed and walked with an open and kind spirit – then cancer has bestowed its blessing upon you.

ChemoSabe

Thank You

There are so many people that we are blessed to have in our lives. These people have gotten my family to our half way point with their prayers, love and kind words.

We are blessed beyond believe to have each and every one of you in our lives and we thank you for being their in person and in spirit when we needed you most.

To my mom’s family - she loves each and every one of you beyond belief. She really enjoyed sharing stories of growing up with her brothers and sisters during her treatments. She often said that she could feel the love and prayers from her siblings, nieces and nephews. Thank you for calling and keeping her spirits up.

…and special thanks to Cousin Debbie who offered to eat my mom’s share of Turkey when we had to postpone our NYC trip. She thought that was the funniest thing ever! ;)

For her friends – both here in The Colony and elsewhere that sent cards and care packages and called her each and everyday, thank you! It’s surreal to see all those cards lined up throughout the house. It really sinks in just how many people one has touched in their lifetime.

For Ms. Jean, Ethel and Omeda who have known my mom for a very long time. She treasures her friendship with all of you and you are truly such a blessing to her.

To Linda, who has walked this same journey, for stopping by the house and visiting with my mom. From your words of encouragement and personal experience, you made my mom’s dance with chemo a little more bearable.

For Ronnie and Cathy who made a surprise visit to the hospital and brought a basket of cheer and hearts filled with good wishes. Thanks for dropping by the house at Christmas and spreading a little holiday cheer. You two are such wonderful and kind spirits and your thoughtfulness and well wishes were greatly appreciated.

For my husband’s family, the Conleys, Millers and Teers for keeping my family in their thoughts and prayers and for always asking how my mom and dad were doing – you extend my family in more ways than one – thank you!

For Deacon Ray – who keeps my mom’s faith and hope lifted, even during his own difficult times. She loves you more than words can say and she is a better person for having met you.

Much like the Oscar’s, I am sure I have missed someone, because there are so many people who have sent good wishes – some I probably do not even know about.

Thanks to each and every single one of you for being there when my mom needed it most. You have been our angels through this journey.

Blessings to each of you and your families.

Party Like a Rock Star!

For Christmas, my husband and I decided to have a Knock-Down Noel Party at our house. TXODT will most likely demolish our house in order to make room to widen a local road (as long as they fairly compensate…they can have whatever they want)

So we wanted to have one really good family gathering at our house before that day came. So our house would see a bona fide traditional Christmas…at least once.

Everything was wonderful – I made lasagna, we had sausages flown in from NYC. The meatballs were flowing next to the provolone, prosciutto, cappicola and so much more.

Did I mention that I made home-made struffoli that was FABULOUS ?

I was really starting to get into my Italian heritage at the start of 2006, but since August, it’s taken on a life of its own. I think it’s the whole cancer thing. I want to make sure that the traditions I made with my mom are stuck in my head so I can incorporate them into my own family.

I am learning Italian – of course, having my husband say he would take me back to my roots didn’t hurt!

So far, I can say cow and cockroach – I live in Texas, what else did you think my first words would be!

As for Christmas…it was GREAT and probably the best one we have had yet…perhaps it’s because my mom proved that she can party like a rock star

(She is going to kill me for posting this picture, but how often do you get to see your cancer battling mother playing Guitar Hero 2…and making this face













Happy New Year Everyone and Blessings to each and every one of you.

My Husband Rocks

Some people will say that I am biased because he’s my husband, but this is no ordinary man, folks.

It’s hard to imagine anyone loving your family as much as you do. You have had enough time to learn to tolerate them and their quirkiness and take the good with the bad.

The day my mom was diagnosed with cancer, my husband offered to re-arrange his schedule and help in any way he could. There were days he drove my mom to her doctor’s appointments, stopped by the house to check on her or just spent some time talking to her on the phone.

He never once made me feel guilty about spending so much time with my mom. He actually told me that being with her was the most important thing – and that’s were he wanted me to be.

There were times we would go someplace and he would say, “Let’s ask your folks to go, I bet they would like it.” He never looked at them as being an imposition …and there are some people that would.

The day that totally melted my heart was after mom my shaved her head. She was very self-conscious about it and wore a little skull cap around the house. When my husband and I stopped by the visit, my mom asked James what he though of his new bald mother-in-law? My husband got up from the couch, walked to my mom and kissed her on that little bald head and told her she looked beautiful. Talk about losing it!

Now, it’s not that my husband is not a sweet guy. But it’s the fact that he did all these things willingly, without me having to ask, he stepped up to the plate and loved my family as if it were his own... not everyone does that.

So for my wonderful husband, I am truly thankful. He has been by reassurance, my shoulder to cry on, my back-up chauffer, comedian and rock for this journey.

I always knew that he loved me, but that love and devotion was magnified to an immeasurable amount.

Thank you, schmoops ... I love you!

There are Days

When someone will say and do something that will make you want to punch them in the face.

Take in it in stride and keep your eye on the prize – getting through chemo and beating cancer.

Cancer will make some people rise to the challenge, while others will fall by the wayside. While you might face some dissapointments, you will be amazed by the strength and commitment from others that will bestowed upon your family during this difficult journey.

For my two sounding boards, my husband (James) and brother (Andy) thank you for listening when I needed to vent. Because of you, Mrs. Beasley did not have to go all Jet Li at times :)

Infusions 2 and 3

Thank God!

Infusions 2 and 3 were a piece of cake compared to numero uno – while my mom is exhausted and her joints hurt (another lovely chemo side affect), she has had little to no nausea and gets around much better after a day 5 of each treatment.

She’s so funny; we have made her doctor’s visits and treatments sort of like mom and daughter bonding time. We go to lunch, stop by a coffee house, stop for some Italian gelato or just drive around in the car and talk – like I said before; cancer sucks but embrace those moments when everything seems to be going in the right direction.

Of course, chemo zaps what strength you have, so my mom feels this urge to apologize for moving a bit slower when we go out. What do I care, I’m the boss and I’ve got all the time in the world.

We finished the last chemo on this first round on November 27th and we get somewhat of a break for Christmas before we face radiation (and whatever) after the New Year.

We are just going to chill and enjoy the season for what it is. Reflecting on all our blessings and having our family all here to enjoy it.

Helpful Hint:

Be patient. There will be times when this might be tested, but remember that chemo takes a lot out of you and you may have to walk a little slower and say things a few more times, but enjoy the opportunity to not have to be moving a million miles a minute.

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

While they give you the disclaimer that you may or may not lose your hair, chances are good that you will wake up one day and see little follicles floating down the drain or little bald patches start to appear.

For woman, I would say it is more traumatic to see your hair fall out. Sorry, fellas…we spend millions on coloring, cutting and teasing, so you know we’ll probably take it harder.

Some people will shave their head rather than wait for it to fallout. Some will remain in a holding pattern until they see how much damage the chemo will do. Either way, be prepared.

Before my mom’s hair started to fallout, we sat at the kitchen table for hours picking out a few hats to have on hand incase the inevitable happended. And it’s a good thing to do this BEFORE it happens.

Needless to say, having your hair fall out before the holidays is not a good thing. And the more I saw my mom stare at her hair, the more upset she got. So I asked if she had considered shaving if off? She had been thinking about it and I told her if and when she was ready to do that, we would have a special Hair Today Gone Tomorrow Party for her locks.

A few days went by and after taking her to the local grocery store (so she could stretch her legs and enjoy a once simple task), we stopped for lunch and the conversation came up again. I told her if she wanted to make a day of it, we would get her nails done and show cancer who was boss – and so we did.

Even though your hair is falling out, when you are completely bald, it does take a little getting use to. But once again, in true spunky Ida fashion, when the stylist turned her around for a look in the mirror, she was able to utter those immortal words through her tears …”Deal or No Deal” – I kid you not, I about peed my pants I was laughing so hard and except for the missing soul patch on her chin, she could have easily played Howie Mandel for Halloween.

Maybe it’s because I was on the outside looking in. But after my mom’s hair was whisked away, she said she looked ugly. I looked at her and saw the most beautiful of creatures whose spirit, love and strength radiated to my soul.

Yep..that’s my mom, she might be bald but she’s smoking hot!

Helpful Hints:

Even though it’s falling out, taking that step to shave off what is left is very hard. If you present the idea and are met with some trepidation, leave it alone. Don’t push the subject. Trust me – even though they are taking chemo they will be able to tell you what they want and what they can and can not do – listen and take the lead from that.

Don’t be afraid to make this something special. Chemo patients already feel like crap because their bodies are being ravaged by the drugs. As my mom put it, it was like being turned inside out. So take the time to incorporate some pampering into the day – manicure, pedicure, facial, massage…whatever floats their boat.

If you are going to have someone else to the deed, be sure to give them the heads up. That way they can be prepared for emotions that might surface.

Cancer Times Two

So by now you know that both mom and pop Longo have been diagnosed with cancer. And as I said before, no matter how bad you think you have it, there is always a blessing that can be found …you just have to look and see it for what it truly is.

So what was our blessing, you ask?

My dad’s oncologist wanted to pull out all the stops to save his eye, so he opted for radiation pellets. Bascially, he had surgery were they implanted encspualted, radioactive particules, incased in lead and gold behind his eye and over the tumor.

Again, while no one likes to see their parent suffer, while painful, my dad’s course of treatment allowed him to have day surgery, come home and rest for seven days, then return to the hospital to have the pellets removed.

We were spared having two parents undergoing chemo. That’s the blessing.

Because my dad’s treatment was not as time conusiming as my moms, we were able to divide, conquer and keep everyone going in their pre-determined direction.

My dad is currently in a holding pattern. After they removed the pellets, his follow-up showed that he had no significant loss of vision and as far as the tumor goes, we won’t know anything for a few months until he receives his MRI.

So please feel free to pray that we get some good news in that area in a few months.

Never…Ever..Utter the Words

“Dear Lord, what else can happen” because God will prove to you that he has a sense of humor.

After we got my mom pointed in the right direction, I can remember someone (I can not recall who) uttered those exact words. I think they just come naturally in times of great stress or trying. Just know that at times, you will get an answer to that question!

Remember during my recap of infusion numero uno, I stated that my dad was not present because he had his own issues? Care to guess what that might have been? Come on….any takers?

For those of you that said cancer – you get the gold star for the day. Right after we started my mom’s treatment, my father was diagnosed with a rare eye tumor. I think it’s choroidal melanoma, but I could be mistaken – it’s hard to keep up with one parent with cancer, so imagine two!

I remember standing on the back porch looking at my dad, trying to figure out in my brain how the heck we were going to get through this new development.

Now, we knew that my dad was having an issue with his vision, but we were not really prepared for that. But as we told him later, if he had to get cancer, in true Longo fashion, he at least picked something from the rarely seen category!

I remember calling my brother (Andy) and (without beating around the bush) asking what his week looked like. When he asked why, I told him and said we would have to divide in order to conquer. I think we both broke down into impromptu laughter. Granted there was nothing humorous about out situation. But you know when you get to that point whether you laugh or cry? I don’t think we had anymore cry left, so laughter was the next best thing. :)