What a Tease!

I got a call from pop this morning and he said there was a little confusion between mom’s doctors – go figure!

The attending physician had every intention of discharging her today, but he forgot to confirm with the infections disease guru. Mom has more staff than the President of The United States!

The infectious disease guru came by to remove the drainage tube that he sutured in after her CTI aspiration. He said that there was still more fluid draining that what he would like to see, so he would not sign off to let mom go home. I know she was disappointed, but we explained to her the importance of making sure everything was cleared up before we took her home. As a matter of fact, I thought for sure she would have been much more upset about the mix-up, but she took it in stride.

She looked well today and she is able to do so much more for herself. She gets in and out of bed with minimal assistance and she seems much stronger with each day that passes…and that’s GREAT news.

Pop spent the morning with her and Andy stopped by for the mid-morning visit. I take the lunch and mid-afternoon visit.

As I unpacked her non-institutional sustenance today, (thank you Jason’s Deli) mom told me that there had been a new nurse in to take care of her. She proceeded to tell me that when the nurse introduced herself, she asked mom what her name was and mom had replied, “Momisan.” For those of you that don’t know, that is what my husband calls my mom. I just found it so funny to hear strangers enter the room and say, “How are you, momisan.” Tomorrow, it would not surprise me to see her staff backing out to leave the room, bowing and saying, “Arigato, Momisan”!

Just goes to show that even mom can keep her sense of humor in difficult times.

Hopefully, we will be able to take her home tomorrow. But as I finished making her a turkey from a latex glove (spending so much time in hospitals, one learns to entertain themselves), she said it had been a good day…and you know what…tomorrow will be even better!

Val

Day Light Come and Momma Go Home!

Did you ever have those days when you just wanted to move to a tropical island?

Can I just say what a crazy, pain in the rump the past three days have been? We have had drama on and off the courts and if one was to rate it on the Fujita Scale it would be an F6,but as mom was telling me today, this too shall pass.

I spent the day with her yesterday plucking crazy eye-brow hairs. She’s so cute..gosh forbid someone should see a uni-brow! They thinned out after chemo, but now it seems like the hair is growing quickly.

Today was indeed a new day. The follow-up CT scan shows that we are making progress in clearing up that lovely staph infection and I am glad to report that they finally took out the catheter and she actually had a decent meal. Let’s just say that this hospital food is by far the worst she has eaten and that’s bad for an Italian…we are foodies! So today I snuck in some eats from Jason’s Deli. She had a nice big bowl of veggie soup and a half a turkey sammie. She said it’s the best food she has had in days…and pop enjoyed his smuggled in Reuben.

We had a nice long visit today, and I am glad to report that momisan is back. She seemed a little off yesterday, but was rather spunky today. I think she is just glad to be going home tomorrow.

I will meet up with pop at the hospital and follow them to the house and help in getting her settled in. I am sure a nice long shower and a good sleep in her bed will do wonders.

In the next few days we will be following up with her oncologist and we will know for sure whether the journey for this family has come to an end or if we have one other stop to make before this crazy train pulls into its final station. So please continue to pray for good news on the oncology/CT home front. But if we have to continue with treatment, we are strong and have vowed to see mom through until the end.

I started this blog with a simple observation that Cancer has the ability to bring a family to its knees and shake it to the very core, but sometimes you have to hit rock bottom to know what you and others are truly made of. Someone once asked me how we have managed to do this for seven months. The answer is simple…family. And by family I mean immediate and those special individuals that have known us for so long that they qualify as extended family. Friends who have offered to take mom to appointments or drop off meals or just spend some time with her so Andy, pop and I could recharge and regroup to fight another day.

In the end, that’s really what it is all about – the ability to count on others to lessen the complications in your life so you can focus on the bigger picture. So once again for all those near and dear to mom (and us) we thank you for your prayers, kind words, generous offers and commitment to being with us for the long haul.



Val

Life's Little Playbook

I arrived at the hospital just a little before lunch today and mom looked beaten down. She had a rough morning, emotionally and you could tell that it had taken its toll on her. It would be great if we all had the capability to implement the “blocking” feature found in Outlook into our every day lives. That way we could use it selectively to filter the negativity and junk and be left with things that are positive and uplifting – how cool would that be! But until Bill Gates figures that one out, I should be thankful that I can at least use it on email. :o)

Mom had spent most of the morning, upright in a chair, and when I got there she was about do for a nap. She didn’t sleep too well the night before because the doctor had stopped by for a visit at 1:00am – how do they expect anyone to rest and get well if they make their rounds at such an ungodly hour?

She’ll be going for another CT scan in a few days. That’s the only way that they can tell if the antibiotics have been working on the infection. But her doctor said that she will most likely be in the hospital until Wednesday. We are going to start to interview some home health care agencies in the next few days. It’s important to have those in place before she gets home. They will have a nurse come by and check on her so she can relax in the confines of her own home. They will serve as another set of eyes until she is recovered.

Thankfully, it was a quiet afternoon. The highlight of mom’s morning was a visit from Deacon Ray. He is the most kind and gentle spirit that one would ever hope to meet and mom has known him for a long time, mostly through her church affiliation. She was so thrilled to tell me that he had stopped by to visit and her eyes lit up when she told me he had greeted her with a kiss on her melon. Thank you Deacon Ray for making her day!

Speaking of hair, you should see those follicles. As mom and I were standing in the bathroom, she said a lot of people were telling her that the back was growing in nicely, but she was disappointed that she couldn’t see what they were talking about. Once again, cell phone to the rescue. I took a snap shot of the back of her head and showed it to her. In true mom fashion she said, “Oooh that does look nice. I may not color it when it grows back.”

I am happy to report that her new nursing staff is WONDERFUL. They are all so sweet and attentive. As I left today, one of them pulled me aside and I thought she was going to yell at me because we were having way too much fun last night. But she said the nicest thing. She said that it was wonderful to see her children take such an active part in her care and that she brags about us once we leave – yep…that’s my mom! It’s odd to hear someone say that because frankly I don’t think we really think about it – we just do it. But if you pass by some of the other rooms, her comment makes perfect sense. Sometimes I feel sorrow for those older patients that have no one that comes to visit them. They rely solely on the staff to take care of them physically and in some cases emotionally.

We have gotten so many wonderfully messages of encouragement and thanks through this blog. It’s amazing how many people read it, some in the same situation as us and some that just find our adventure interesting and at times a bit humorous. Since mom is not into all things Internet, we made her a hard copy book of all the entries and messages (both public and private) that we receive through this site. They are all in a binder that she’s been reading for several months and reflects on at her leisure. She has even gotten to the point where she puts the book on loan and gives it to her friends to read – it’s like she is the public library!

Since this blog has been a journey about Cancer from diagnosis to remission, some have asked what will happen to it once mom is well again. I have already made arrangements to have the entries and photos made into a book for mom and the “wingman”. While we have no desire to repeat this process, it will become a cherished possession and testament to mom’s strength and resolve…and if I happen to find myself in a difficult situation, it will serve as my “Playbook” that they can be overcome.

Tomorrow is a new day, sleep well tonight!

Val

Mom Comm

Good Morning, All….

I thought I would post a blog update before I went to see momisan this morning. She is still in the hospital, but I am thankful that we have at least turned the page to a better chapter in the past few days.

She continues to recover from that CTI Aspiration and the doctor dropped by yesterday and said some of the infection has been identified as “staph.” So they have changed her antibiotics to treat it more aggressively and the infectious disease doctor will be following up with us on Monday.

Mom is doing the best she can with the current circumstances. I imagine she would feel much better if she wasn’t tethered to an IV pole or kicking the catheter bag out of the way, but we remind her that each day she is making a little more progress and pretty soon we will be able to “cut those chains that bind her” and take her home.

She is eating and drinking and for the past two days they take her out for a run around the floor to stretch the old legs and we move her to a chair throughout the day so she doesn’t feel so bed ridden…it’s all good!

We have returned to a semi normal lifestyle, but that is by Cancer standards of course. We don’t stay at the hospital all day; we work in shifts and via cell phone. It’s the funniest thing ever because Andy and I will call each other with daily updates just like the nurses do when they give report. We have dubbed our cell phone adventures as MOM COMM – and mom finds it rather amusing that she has her own mobile command unit.
I can’t imagine what we would do without cell phones!

I once blogged about the duality of Cancer, the fact that even during such a trying and difficult time, you find the most amazing blessings. Mom and I were talking about family yesterday and how the relationships and personalities within that dynamic have changed over the past seven months. My brother Andy has always been close to mom, and that’s because he and mom had a very special bond when he was younger. My dad was away at sea, so by the standards of that time, he became the man of the house and they took care of each other and that bond is still very much intact today.

I, on the other, was the last of the chillin’, and while not always perfect as I child (who really is) my bond with mom developed later in life, around twenty. Mom likes to tell people that she didn’t think I had it in me to take care of her, not because I was unwilling or incapable, but because I am the most squeamish person on the face of the planet. I will be the first person to tell you that I don’t deal well with pain, suffering, needles or anything really hospital related, but then again…I never really had to. I have never been in a position where one of my parents had been so ill that they could not do for themselves. So, if you really think about it, you never really know what someone has in them until they are called to the plate and have the courage to at least pick up that bat, whether they swing and miss or knock one out of the park is irrelevant; you just have to get off the bench.

Over the past few days, I have made a lot of observations about the changing dynamic. I see the way that my husband has put his arm around my brother and told him that he was here for him. I have seen the two of them take my nieces fishing for an hour, just to keep a certain order and balance in our lives during this difficult time, only to have my brother call me and say “You should have seen James with the girls, He’s going to make a good father.” – these are the things that give me peace and remind me that there are blessings to be found in adversity and illness.

Last night, we inadvertently converged at the hospital at the same time – Andy with his family and me with mine…we try not to do that because it turns into a cataclysmic force of nature and it’s a miracle we don’t get thrown out for laughing too loud. But as we tucked momisan into bed, with Andy singing show tunes behind a giant curtain, I couldn’t help but notice the smile on mom’s face. The woman is all about family and she finds great joy in knowing that we “get it”. All those years she has been telling us to be kind, be loving and family is always first has come back to her in an immeasurable amount. And that fact that she can witness how we have implemented those teachings into our own families is why I think she was smiling.

Thank you all for your continued words of encouragement, prayers, visits and well wishes – we are making progress each and every day!

Val

(Don’t worry; she didn’t snatch a baby from the nursery!
Before we left last night, Kristen (Andy’s youngest daughter) wanted to leave her baby, Annabelle with Nan so they could have a sleep over and Nan would not be lonely.)

All Aboard the Crazy Train!

It’s been almost a week since our chronicles of cancer have been updated…did you miss our first-person insight… liberally sprinkled with wit? :o)

Well, now that we have a chance to stop and just take a little breather, I thought I would update you all on this crazy train of a ride. As some of you know, we had planned on taking mom to Virginia this week so she could be with her siblings as they celebrated the eldest brother’s 90th birthday. But just when you think you have some type or normalcy in your life, Cancer has a tendency to slip you a little reminder that although you may be kicking it in the rump, it is not going down with out a fight and if it has to, it will call in it’s friends- fatigue, nausea and infection.

Buckle up kids…this is going to be a long and bumpy blog!

I arrived at Casa de Longo on Monday to see if mom was ready for the trip. We were scheduled to leave on Wednesday morning and return on Friday. When I got to the house, I found mom in bed feeling a little tired and weak. She said not to worry that she wasn’t feeling too bad to fly and her doctor did tell her that it would take about a week for the radiation side effects to clear up. I told her I would check on her in the morning and we would see how she was feeling. The worst case scenario would have been for her to become ill in flight or in Virginia.

The following morning, momisan called in tears and completely inconsolable. She managed to squeak out. “I can’t go on the trip.” And I told her not to worry and I was coming right over.

Once again I arrived at Casa de Longo to find mom in bed and rambling out apologizes for being sick and having to cancel the trip. I told her she did not have to apologize and I know it broke her heart not to go, but until we have a few months of uninterrupted good health, we make plans knowing that they might have to be cancelled. I promised that when she was well enough, we would make this trip up.

I asked mom what she had been eating and drinking and she just shook her head and I knew that was not a good sign. So I got her some juice and made her a smoothie with extra ice cream in the hopes that something in her stomach would make her feel a little bit better. As I sat on the bed, mom took my hand and said that she wanted me and my husband to go on her behalf. I don’t think she actually finished the sentence before I cut her off with an emphatic “No.” With all due respect to the family, there is no way in hell I was getting on a plane and leaving her behind. Of course mom started to cry when I said I was not making the trip without her. She wasn’t upset that I was not going; she was happy that I was staying. It may seem like one of those trick questions to some, but come on…this is the woman that brought me into this world and took care of me for eighteen years. Even Attila the Hun wouldn’t leave his sick momma behind to rob and pillage!

I stayed with mom the majority of the morning and after she had a little bite to eat, she fell asleep and I ran to grab some sammies for the folks. When I returned to Casa de Longo, my brother Andy was there visiting with pop and I proceeded to leave the sammies on the table and walk back to check on mom….and that’s when the crazy train derailed.

I found mom wriggling on the edge of the bed, trying desperately to get to her feet. She said that she just needed to stand up, so I did what I have done a thousand times before and proceeded to help her up. She dropped back onto the bed and her legs started to shake. I yelled for my brother, who showed up just as mom was starting to slip to the floor. We each grabbed an arm and tried on a few occasions to get her up. She was putting up such a struggle to get out of that bed that she was breaking a sweat and it seemed what little strength she had left, disappeared before our eyes.

I remember looking over at my brother and we knew that something was wrong. Andy told pop to take his place and as I grabbed a hold of mom, Andy ran to call the Fire Department. I remember being eye to eye with momisan and I could see the fear in her eyes. The fear of falling and the fear of not knowing what was happening was more than she could stand and as the tears started to flow, I kept repeating, “I’ve got you momma, help is coming.”

Thank God our fire department has a quick response time. While it seemed like an eternity to me, it was a matter of minutes before the bedroom was filled with a small army of reinforcements. The firemen worked quickly to take our places and get mom secured and ready to move to the gurney.

As the guys continued to work on mom, I desperately scrambled across the bed and with tears flowing down my face, ran for the nearest exit. I have tried to live by one rule for the past seven months – not crying in front of mom. But being eye-to-eye with her as I could feel her succumb to exhaustion was more than I could bear. Sometimes, you just have one of those moments. You can’t always control when and were, but seeing how she was in good hands…this seemed like a pretty good time to take some “me” time for a mini-break down.

I had just enough time to compose myself as they wheeled mom down the hall and out the door to the ambulance. Andy jumped in the back with her and I told pop he could ride with me and we would follow them to the hospital. As I heard the doors to the rig slam shut, I remember sinking to my knees with the same inconsolable sorrow that mom had exhibited earlier in the day. Apparently I still needed some additional “me” time to gather my game face before we got to the hospital. And it was a good thing I dropped most of those tears on Middleton Circle, this was just a prelude of things yet to unfold.

We arrived at the hospital in unison and as they wheeled mom into the ER, we calmly marched behind her, reassuring her that everything would be okay. The next few hours consisted of tests and drugs to control her nausea and get her hydrated. She was given a new drug called Phenergan to control her nasusea and after an hour she seemed to relax a bit.

The ER doctor wanted to admit mom and get a handle on the dehydration. So we waited in the ER for hours until a bed opened up. And as we continued to talk to mom, she looked kind of space-out and the nurse re-assured us it was the morphine injection. Another hour elapsed and mom started to make these uncontrollable movements of her lips and tongue and she could not speak.

We called for the nurse, who in turn called for the doctor. We started to rub mom’s hands and head to reassure her that everything was okay. And while we waited for the doctor, I think we were all thinking the same thing – she was having a stroke.

The doctor came in and asked mom to smile and squeeze her hands. She told us that she did not think it was a stroke, but rather an allergic reaction to the Phenergan. The mouth movement is one of the key signs that one is having a reaction. They started to drip Benedryl into her IV to offset the Phenergan. But to be on the safe side, they opted to do a CT scan to definitely rule out a stroke and we would meet up with the neurologist once mom was moved to her room.

After spending seven hours in the ER, mom was finally moved to a room. The neurologist was waiting and she re-assured us that it was indeed the Phenergran and not a stroke that was causing the mouth movement. After getting mom settled into her room, they increased the Benedryl drip and added a bag of antibiotics because mom had a high grade fever. We all scooted our chairs around mom and devised our plan of attack. Even when she can’t speak…she’s still the center of attention! :o)

Since we could not tell whether mom knew what was going on and she still could not talk, we decided not to leave her alone. Andy and pop volunteered to stay the night and I told them I would be back in the morning to relieve them.

I am going to speak from the heart and tell you that seeing my mother with those uncontrollable head movements and inability to speak, was my worst fear come true. Temporary or not, I think the look on her face will haunt me for ever. And leaving her in that condition was the hardest thing I had to do, but I just did not have anything left to give. And the irony of that is my guilt about leaving only allowed me 2 hours of sleep and I was back at the hospital at 6am.

It was time for Andy and Pop to try their hand at re-charging their batteries and as the day progressed, mom’s condition started to improve and we were able to have a conversation. She extended her arm that had the IV line and asked if I thought it was swollen. I told her that indeed it was and I called the nurse to come take a look at it. They checked the line and told us they didn’t see anything and for us to keep an eye on it and let them know if it got any worse. By 10:00am, we were wheeling her down to get a CT scan of her head, abdomen and lower pelvis.

I have another rule that I have adopted since we started this journey – mom never goes anywhere unescorted. If she is with me, (or Andy) I follow her anytime they take her for tests. I find it causes less stress on mom (and the staff) if I brief them on a few things. While she was getting her IV contrast, the technician said that he could not use her existing IV line because it was not good. We asked him to elaborate and he pointed to the swelling and said that’s what happens when the IV line isn’t inserted correctly. The fluid goes into the muscles rather than the veins. I explained to him that two different nurses looked at it and said nothing was wrong and he said they were incorrect. When we got back to the floor, we needed to have the line removed.

By now you have got to be thinking that this is a Chinese fire drill gone completely bad! And for the record, this was not our usual hospital, Medical City.

Once mom was returned to her room, we had the bad IV line removed and we spent the rest of the day waiting for the doctor to stop by with the results of the tests. Andy and pop stopped in for a visit and around 7:00pm, the doctor came by with his findings.

The CT scan showed that there was a mass in mom’s lower pelvis. And as the doctor continued telling us that it could be an infection from the surgery back in August or a side effect of radiation, you could just see the tears build up in mom’s eyes and flow down her cheeks. She started to tell the doctor that she could not handle another surgery and he re-assured her that was not his first option. They would due a CT aided aspiration. They would put mom in a CT scanner so they could guide a needle to the area and basically lance it. Then they would run antibiotics through her and that should clear up the infection and take care of the mass. He also re-assured us that this condition was not uncommon and it was not an indication that the cancer had spread. What probably happened was a little blister formed on the inner abdominal wall and it just kept growing until it morphed into a full blown infection. They are virtually undetectable until they get large enough to actually exhibit signs of infection.

While it was not the greatest news, it was certainly not the worst and mom said we should all go home and get some rest and just come back in the morning. She felt fine and she said if she needed anything, she would ring for the nurse. Since the CT aspiration was scheduled for the following morning, we all agreed that we would go home and let mom get a little R and R, but I volunteered to stay through the shift change. I like to scope out the staff before I go home…sometimes they have unhappy people working in a care giver position.

While we waited for the “changing of the guard”, I dimmed the lights and scooted a chair closer to mom’s bed. I was thinking about the last 48 hours and it struck me that even amid all this chaos, we had time to crack a few jokes along the way. I think that is what keeps us all sane and moving forward. And as I smiled to myself in the dark, I heard a voice call my name.

“Valerie”?
“Yes Momma.”
“At the end of the day, do you think about the time we spend together and replay them in your head.”?
(It’s creepy…it’s like the woman can see into my brain.) :o)
“Yes I do momma. That’s probably why I can’t sleep at night. I can’t shut my brain off.”
“Me either.” The voice continued, “I think about all the times you make me laugh in the day and it brings a smile to my face. And I just wanted you to know that those are the times I cherish the most”
“Me too momma.”

And as the tears streamed down my face, I asked the little voice in the dark if it wanted me to stay. “No” replied the voice. “Go home and sleep more than two hours and come back in the morning.” As mom chuckled, I gave her a kiss on the head and opened the door. And as a beam of light from the hallway went across her bed, I could see her face and a smile that went from ear to ear and I knew our train was back on track.

My brother Andy called me in the morning and told me that our “train” didn’t even leave the station. During the night, one of the nurses had a bur under her saddle when mom questioned why some of the equipment didn’t work and an altercation took place that left mom frazzled and really pissed off.

Andy spent most of the morning tracking down the hospital admin to have what we call a “heart to heart” to make it known that with at least ten different hospitals in the area all competing for patients they better get there act together and rectify the situation. Let’s just cut to the chase and say that when I arrived this morning to visit mom before her procedure, there were a lot of staff members bending over backwards to make amends for the error in their ways.

Mom’s procedure went fine and they were able to lance the mass and we are thankful that the fluid seems to be clear. They gave her some sedatives so she could get some sleep and at 7:00pm this evening we headed home to get a little rest ourselves. The past 48 hours has been hard for all of us. Mom will probably remain in the hospital for a few days so they can continue the fluids and antibiotics that will make her well enough to continue the journey.

As I end this blog, I must confess that the day before mom’s initial surgery in August, we made a pact. She promised to fight as hard as she could and I promised never to leave her alone until this journey came to an end – win, lose or draw. Cancer is a long and arduous battle and there are times when we celebrate victory and other times we feel defeated. There are good days when mom is like a little general and we follow her lead. And there are other days when we have to push, pull, drag or carry her on to her next battle. But I promised her that I would never leave her behind.

I think that’s why I am so hard on myself at times. I always think that there is something more that I could have done or something that I should have seen before it got to a certain point. But the truth of the matter is that as much as I would like to think that I (or my brother Andy) could some how meet all of mom’s needs, twenty four seven, it is just not humanly possible. We can’t know everything or predict what tomorrow will bring. There just comes a time when you are just physically exhausted and emotionally spent and there is no shame or guilt in that. Sometimes even the most tenacious caregivers need a little help.

So thanks once again to The Colony Fire Department, The Colony Police Department, to family and friends for their love, support and prayers…and most importantly, to my husband. It is because of his love, support and understanding that I have the ability to embrace my alter ego…ChemoSabe.

I will post additional updates when I can and please continue to keep my family in your prayers.

I am off to recharge my battery…

Val

Cupid Draw Back Your Bow!

So I trust that everyone had a wonderful Val Day! ;o)

It was terribly cold here in old Texas and I do believe I saw a few snow flurries earlier in the morning. Funny, even though we are on medical hiatus, I still woke up at my usual time but instead of heading to Casa de Longo, I ran a few errands.

One of the items on my “to do” list was to swing by and drop some Val Day cookies off for mom and pop. And when I arrived at the house later in the afternoon, pop was wrapped up in his electric binky and looked like a burrito. I didn’t see mom anywhere, so I thought she might have been taking a nap. I was going to drop the cookies and sneak quietly out, so as not to disturb her. And as I turned to head for the hallway, I caught a glimpse of some crazy bald woman, wearing shorts, emerging from the shadows – every since that pesky chemo that woman’s internal thermostats has been totally out of whack.
I stayed for a little while, visiting, and then headed home to make a nice dinner for the hubby.

When I returned home, our answering machine was blinking and as I played the message, I started to chuckle. It was mom and she had apparently called in the morning, after I had left to run errands. Here message went something like this:

“Hi, this is mom. Happy Val Day. I just thought I would call and see what you were doing today. I missed you, call me.” I was totally on target with the concept of a twelve step program! But the funny thing is that not having to take her to the hospital requires some adjustment. For the past few days, it has felt like I have forgotten something or neglected to do something – it drives me crazy!

I was in the middle of cooking dinner, when the phone rang. It was mom. She sounded like she had won the lottery. I had told her on Wednesday that she needed to call her pulmonary doctor to see how long she had to continue taking those blood thinners. Well, the reason she was excited is because they called her back and told her she was free! No more thinners, no more blood work, no more clots – that was definitely a welcomed Val Day gift.

So it has been a stupendous week for momison – no more radiation and she can toss the thinners.

Here’s hoping that you all caught a glimpse of Cupid (the fat cherub, not the reindeer) and you passed that love on to all the special people in your lives!

Val

The 3 Wise Guys

Today was a momentous day – it was the last of the radiation treatments. It was Graduation Day and in true LoCo fashion, we pulled out all of the stops.

Andy and I had synchronized our watches the night before in order to converge upon Casa de Longo at our usual pick-up time. We will not know until March whether this race is over, but for now we are celebrating this mile marker for what it is – a noteworthy accomplishment!

We arrived at Medical City determined to depart the “old school” way. Mom always told us that you never go to someone’s house empty handed and you never leave someone’s house without thanking them for their kind hospitality –and some how just saying “thanks” did not convey our gratitude for the care and compassion the Dream Team, Part Deux, had shown to our mom. So, in the words of Emeril, we kicked it up a notch …BAM!

As mom entered the doors of the “forbidden zone” she was flanked on each side by a child. We looked like the Three Wise Men …ummm…I mean Wise Guys (it’s an Italian thing) and instead of carrying garlic, marina and parmigiano reggiano; we were bringing cookies and flowers. :o)

It was a day filled with a certain duality, as mom made the rounds handing our pink Gerber daisies to all the staff and fellow patients she had met during the past month. It’s very surreal to feel both sadness and joy co-exist at the same time and in the same place. While they will be sad to see her go, they should take great pride in their life saving work that has allowed her to move forward.

Her staff gathered together one last time to present mom with a bracelet that they had made from the inner, cardboard circle of a role of masking tape. For anyone “not in the know” this object that adorned mom’s wrist was just a cardboard circle. But for those who are privy to the story, it is a prized possession that contains an immeasurable amount of love, compassion, strength and blessings that have been shared between momisan and her radiation team for the past twenty-five days…and those are sentiments that will never be forgotten.

As we made our final round through the radiation ward, we bid a fond farewell to the Dream Team, Part Deux and loaded mom into the car for a victory lap around the parking lot before we headed for home.

As we turn the page in this chapter of the book, I think it is important to once again mention the radiation staff at Dr. Macko’s office. Simply saying “Thank You” does not seem to be enough. It takes a special calling to deal with those battling Cancer and each and every one of you will hold a special place in our prayers for simply being such amazing individuals.

Like I stated in the first-paragraph, today was about saying good-bye the “old-school” way. Sometimes we have the tendency to forego the extra mile when saying “thank you” to those that went above and beyond for us. It does not have to be anything extravagant. It can be a simple handwritten letter or a batch of home-made cookies, the end result is the same …it is gratitude that comes from the heart that is most meaningful.

Thank you all for your love, prayers and continued well wishes – we feel them each and every day.

Val

(Mom and her Dream Team, Part Deux)



(The 3 Wise Guys Post-Graduation)

Pre-Graduation Day!

I am such a slacker….I just now realized that I am almost a week behind in blogging! Last week was a bit hectic and truth be told, I am just plain tired.

My kitchen looks like an annex forest for the Keebler Elves. I wanted to do something nice for mom’s radiation team, so I have been baking and decorating Valentine’s Day cookies since yesterday. Sure, I could have bought them but nothing says “thanks” like taking the time to do them yourself.

But the good news is that tomorrow is radiation treatment number 25 and it’s Graduation Day for momisan!!!

I arrived at Casa de Longo to find a weeping mother in her chair. Of course, I always think something is wrong, but she said she just missed me over the weekend. It’s so funny because I call her and try not to be a pest and drop by (I think she needs to rest) and she says she won’t call me because she thinks I need some rest and alone time with the hubby. I told her today that she is so used to seeing me everyday, that I may have to start a twelve step program to wean her off ChemoSabe!

I noticed fuller follicles today and some of the hair is growing in as darker circles while the rest is salt and pepper. I call it the Reverse Jay Leno! ;)

It was a rainy, gloomy day today so we left a little earlier for the hospital. I told mom I am really going to miss my morning words of wisdom and lively debates that take place as we toodle down the Tollway. But I am sure once she is well, we will find other adventures that will be more enjoyable than chemo or radiation.

We arrived at Medical City and mom vanished behind the “forbidden zone” as I took my usually seat in the waiting area. I have met so many wonderful people in the last month and there is only one other patient (and his wife, Melody) that has been going as long as mom – his last day is Valentine’s Day.

I have had the privilege to talk with Melody on an almost daily basis. Her husband is also battling Stage 4 Cancer of the Tonsils. I never knew one could get Cancer of the tonsils, but I have learned over the past few months that Cancer can invade just about any nook and cranny that is wants to. Melody’s husband has lost his voice and the ability to salivate due to the radiation, but he comes in every morning with a smile. She is studying theology and has yet to decide her calling. Melody and I have often discussed just how random Cancer is. There is no accurate profile for who will likely become its next victim – it’s completely random and I think that is what makes it so menacing.

Mom emerged from her treatment 25 minutes later, with a little mixed emotion about tomorrow. While she is anxious to move on, she is going to miss her radiology team and they her. It’s corny to say, but these angels become like family, so it’s hard not to get a lump in the throat…after all they have saved the life of momisan!

We left the hospital and stopped off for a Cup of Joe and a little shopping and in the back of mind; I could not help but think about my conversation with Melody today.

Not that I would wish Cancer on anyone, but at times I wonder what the world would be like if we saw people through Cancer’s eyes – random and non-discriminating. Cancer doesn’t care about someone’s skin color, religion, education or income. Nor does it care about which side of the tracks you live on or what kind of car you drive – everyone is equal and taken at face value. I imagine there might be a lot less hatred and more love and helpfulness if we could view each other like the Big C!

Until tomorrow…find you blessings and thank you for all the love and prayers that have sustained us for the past six months – we are more than half way there!

Val

For battling cancer with honor, distinction and for being admired by fellow survivors, I herby declare that tomorrow, February 13th 2007, Ida Longo (with a major in radiation and a minor in chemo) will graduate Magna Cum Laude from Radiation U!

Don't Wig Out!

Today was just “one of those days.” We all have them and when you have Cancer you sometimes have more than your fair share of them.

I was not on the radiation rotation schedule today but my poor niece had been sick all night. So rather than expose my mom to germs, I got the call that most pitchers dream about in the big league. I was being called from the bull pen to head to the mound!

I scurried through the house exchanging my bunny slippers for tennis shoes and out the door I went. I arrived at Casa de Longo to find a weary woman ready to crawl back into bed and just pull the covers over her head. Mom looked tired and the side effects of the radiation had really kicked in today.

Unfortunately, anytime you are having your stomach or abdomen irradiated, you can get nauseous and at times it is very similar to chemo. Mom was beside herself with worry as to whether she could make the thirty minute drive without the “chunkage.” Now here’s where a true blue ChemoSabe can either take a situation from bad to worse, or from bad to better. Without skipping a beat, I grabbed her pink “chunkage” bucket, a roll of paper towels and a back-up shirt. Then I looked her square in the eye and said, “whatever you toss my way, I got it covered.” So after a few minutes of composing herself and downing a Zofran (a Cancer patient’s best friend) we were on our way.

Since we were running late, I was traveling down the Tollway at a pretty good clip, when I heard the sounds of muffled sniffles to my right. Now, anyone that has been around a Cancer patient can attest to the fact that it is sometimes a roller coaster ride of emotion. So as I asked mom what was upsetting her, she managed to squeak out something about me being on a shelf somewhere in the Stork’s factory with “Reserved for Ida Longo” affixed to some appendage on my person. It took me a few minutes to process what she was trying to say, I thought it was that pesky ChemoBrain again! :o) But then she uttered, “thank you for being my daughter” and I understood in an instant what she was trying to say.

Cancer is not an easy foe to wage war on. But no matter how bad it gets (both physically and emotionally) if you are able to keep your composure no matter what situation arises, you can weather the storm and ride the wave to calmer seas. That’s’ the key.

As we got closer to the hospital, mom said I could probably drive to Medical City with my eyes closed. And no sooner had she finished that sentence then a Stevie Wonder song started to play on the radio. How ironic is that? As I belted out my rendition of “I Just Called to Say I Love You,” I thought I would perplex the people driving beside me by swaying my head side-to-side ala Stevie. Let’s just say it caused people to do a double take, which in turn made mom laugh.

We got to the radiation appointment on time and after thirty-five minutes, we were good to go. I had totally forgotten that I promised to take mom to a wig boutique that specializes in cancer patients. But as we headed out the door, she asked if we had time to go – Zofran is a miracle drug my friends!

Mimi’s Boutique is a Cancer patient’s dream – wall to wall wigs and head coverings in every style and color one could imagine. The stylists were wonderfully compassionate and understanding and after an hour of trying on hair, momma got a new look. Her new doo is not only stylish, but I was surprised to see her embrace one with highlights. She said she wanted something with pizzazz and indeed she got what she asked for.

Of course, when you are used to looking at a shiny cranium for the past three months, the wig does take a bit of getting use to, but I think she looks B-E-A-UTIFUL!

On our way home, we stopped off at a local restaurant to get a salad for lunch and what started out to be the day from hell, turned out to be salvageable in the end. As we exited the restaurant, I spotted a giant chili pepper and told mom to strike a pose. Can you guess which one is hotter!?

My lesson for the day is no matter what happens, don’t wig out! It does not benefit anyone, especially a cancer patient, to get upset, angry or to lose your composure over something that they have no control over. Remain calm and stay focused on the big picture – doing whatever you have to do to get them over that hump.

Val

(Mom's new Scooby...Dooby....doo.)

(Ida pecked a peck of mammoth peppers.)

It's a Walk in the Park

There is never a dull weather moment in Texas. Just yesterday I was telling you about the surprise snow flurries we had on Friday and today, it was hard to believe that it was winter!

I arrived at Casa de Longo and transported mom to Medical City to start the last seven radiation treatments – Sha-ZAM!!

We arrived at the radiology department to see a group of new faces. There were a lot of people that were starting their treatment plan today. While mom was receiving her therapy, I had the opportunity to meet a lovely woman that was there to get a routine scan to make sure her cancer was in remission. She had come to her appointment alone and while we were talking, a man snuck up behind her and gave her a big hug and kiss that brought the woman to tears. As she later explained, it was her husband. Unknowing to his wife, he had left work early to be with her and you could tell that one, unsolicited, unselfish act meant the world to her.

As the woman and her husband conversed, I returned to my new hobby. Courtesy of Cancer, I am learning to crochet. I have always wanted to learn, but I rarely had time to just sit and do it. But being in hospital waiting rooms for the past five months, I have more sedentary time on my hands then I know what to with. Now, I have only been crocheting for a week so I have been practicing the basic technique. And while I do not have a colossal blanket or beanie cap to show for it, I must say that I have a pretty good looking worm! And just like I did with my macaroni necklace, circa 1975, I presented my worm for mom’s approval with the same enthusiasm and sense of accomplishment. She wants me crochet her a blanket, but I insisted on starting with something small …how about some hair? ;o)

Mom joined me in the waiting room and decided to sit for a spell. Once she was settled in, the woman I mentioned above asked me if I had made the hat mom was wearing (that snazzy white one that looks like a snow ball.) Mom said no, but she did buy it for me. They continued their conversation and it turned out that the lady had gone through a year’s worth of chemo to treat cervical cancer.

As we left Medical City and headed to the car, I could hear mom utter, “Thank You, Lord” under her breathe. I knew exactly what she meant. While her journey has not been easy, there are others whose journey has been longer and more difficult and we both prayed that the Good Lord continue to bless the woman with remission.

We drove out of the parking lot and the warmth of the sun could be felt through the windows. I asked mom if she needed to go anywhere today and she said that she would like to get a cup of coffee and just sit outside and enjoy the pleasant day. I told her I knew the perfect place.

We made a detour to Starbucks were I got two Frozen Frappacinos and a small piece of coffee cake that we could split. I drove mom to Bishop Park. It’s a lovely area in the midst of an urban town center that has shops, restaurants and a common area with benches by a lake. I found a place to park and we took a small walk to a bench and laid out our little Starbuck’s picnic.

You could hear the chirping of the birds and we enjoyed a simple conversation under a brilliant blue sky without a cloud in sight. We were flanked by a wide assortment of flowers and the rippling water in the lake served as the perfect backdrop. I would catch glimpses of mom from the corner of my eye…sitting their slurping her frappacino, breathing in and out and warming herself in the sun.

We spent at least two hours just sitting there talking about a wide array of topics and as we were getting ready to leave, mom leaned over and said it had been a beautiful day…and indeed it had been.

Once again, Cancer left a blessing at our feet. Sometimes the most memorable things in life do not come with a price tag affixed to them. There are times that we must be reminded to just be in the moment and take pleasure in the every day things we frequently take for granted or that go by unnoticed because we are too busy.

Here’s hoping you have time for a walk in the park today!

Val

(Shhh...no slurping!)

(This Frappacino moment brought to you by Team LoCo.)

(Such a delicate little flower...when she's not smacking you with her cane!)

(Here's my worm making skills put to good use. Is it me, or does mom look like a blonde Princess Leah from Star Wars?)

Jolly Green and Niblet

Well, I am a few days late in posting the events of my designated day…but as mom always says, “better late than never.” :)

It turns out that Friday brought a weather phenomenon to Texas that we do not see that often – snow! Yes, Virginia…there is snow in Texas. Now, it’s not the kind I remember as a kid growing up in Long Island. That kind of snow allowed us to build igloos and tunnel from one end of the block to the other. This kind of snow is usually miniscule in accumulation, but just the right consistency to make a few good snow balls.

I awoke to news reports regarding treacherous bridges and overpasses in the county where we live. During winter weather, that seems to be our demise – those pesky, high bridges and overpasses freezing and causing gridlock. But reports indicated that the place we needed to get to, downtown Dallas, did not reap any of the treachery of the wintry mix. So if figured I could easily make the journey.

It just so happens that my husband, James, was off on Friday. And for those of you that do not know, he is in law enforcement so when it comes to me, he is very protective and worries about my safety. I chalk that up to all the crazies he comes into contact with on a daily basis. So my knight in “blue armor” volunteered to be the wheel man.

We arrived at Cass de Longo on time and mom was ecstatic to see my husband – the woman loves that boy as if he were one of her own. Thankfully he’s not because that would make our marriage illegal, unless we lived in Arkansas! :)

We piled into the car and headed to Medical City. As we approached the doors leading to the “forbidden zone” mom was greeted by a fellow radiation patient. They chit-chatted for a while and when mom rejoined me and my husband, she said that the gentleman always tells her how beautiful she is and what a wonderful smile she has. Now even though mom is married, I think it makes anyone feel good when another person finds them attractive and as mom said, “Especially considering I am an old, bald woman.” So as she proceeded through the doors, I was reminded of Sandra Bullock’s character (Gracie Heart) in Miss Congeniality. And as mom started through the doors, I started to sing... "He thinks you’re sexy…he wants to kiss you.” Needless to say, mom giggled down the hall like a school girl. It’s amazing how kind words, even from a stranger, can lift one’s spirits.

The inclement weather worked in our favor today. There were a lot of treatment cancellations, so we were in and out in record time – fifteen minutes. As mom re-emerged from the treatment area, my husband looked surprised that it did not take longer. “Not to worry” mom said. “That gives us time to have some lunch.”

We arrived at a local burger joint and while my mom isn’t much of a “burger kind of gal,” she will kill you with her folk for the cheese fries they serve at this place. So as we settled into our booth, an old saying popped into my head – “you can tell a lot about a man in the way he treats his mother.” And as I watched my husband help my mom off with her coat, assist her getting in and out of the booth and guiding her gently along when we were ready to leave, I had an ah-ha moment. While that old saying may be true, you can tell more about a man in how he treats YOUR mother. Like I posted in another blog, I didn’t really ask my husband to step up to this challenge. He did so willing and without having to be asked – he loves my mom as if she were his own and I think that speaks volumes as to the type of man I married.

As my husband and mom continued to walk, they conversed on a plethora of topics. Some of which I promised not to blog about – not because they are shocking…but let’s just say that my husband sees my mom in a whole new light. She is a humorous handful! :o)

As they continued to walk and talk, my husband towered over my mom. They looked like the Jolly Green Giant and Niblet! I decided to lurk in the background, not because I did not have anything to say, but because I was enjoying the moment of being on the outside looking in - watching my husband and mom interact on such an intense level.

I sat in the back of the car and as we headed home, James and mom continued their chosen topic of discussion. My husband pointed out that in his line of work; it sometimes frustrates him that people automatically assume the worse case scenario. When they see the police, something is wrong or someone is usually in trouble for breaking the law. While it might be true in some of the cases, it is not always an accurate picture one-hundred percent of them time. Sometimes you see officers parked on the side of the road catching up on paper work or simply talking with each other. There are times you might see an officer walk into a school, not because there is an emergency but to leave lunch money for their child or be the guest speaker at a show and tell. And sometimes you might see an officer escorting someone across a parking lot; not because that person broke the law, but perhaps they found time, in an otherwise abnormal schedule, to have lunch with a significant other or friend. It’s all about perspective.

Cancer is a lot like that. People just presume because one is diagnosed with Cancer that means an automatic end. You have the Big C and that’s that. But in a lot of cases that is just not the case …and if you don’t believe that, just look at the photos of my bald, mature mother who is beating Stage 4 cancer! I imagine if you were a casual bystander looking at my mom, you might think the worse case scenario or assume she's in trouble - healthwise. But I guarantee if you are on the inside, looking out, you would witness all the joys and blessings and rather than focusing on just the negative ...you would be hopefully optimistic.

It’s all about perspective.

Val

(Jolly Green and Niblet)

(Proof that it does snow in Texas!)

The Talk

Submitted by Andy ....and I am going to require some type of therapy on this one ... :o(
---------------------------------

A favorite past time at our house is to catch an episode or two of Everyone Loves Raymond. God bless the TIVO! The show seems to epitomize the Long Island Italian family structure and how they work their way through life and its many questions. The episode we saw tonight was Raymond trying to tell his daughter about sex and why we are on the earth? What is the meaning of life? Amazing mom and I had a similar discussion today on the way to the hospital. What the heck went wrong? It took 48 years to get “the talk” and learn the meaning of life. I think I got the sex part figured out by now, but we talked about how relationships progress over the years.

One of my favorite mental photos, is the financial investment commercial that shows a young man running through a park passing an elderly couple walking hand in hand in the park. They say that a picture is worth a thousand words. And that one speaks volumes.

I was half kidding talking to mom, that as she worked through her daily meditation she put in a good word for me that as the years passed, the bada bing still had that zing. But before you go off with OH MY GOSH, you have to remember that the blog is our sharing our life with you, looking inward. And taking ourselves seriously sometimes is not as much fun as laughing at life together.

But getting back to the picture of the older couple, mom and I agreed that what makes a couple a couple is not any specific moment in time. It is a composition of many life experiences over the long haul. It is the hours of the day that turn into weeks, months and years of togetherness. The day you bring your child home, get a dog, buy your first home, burn dinner, wreck a car without getting hurt, see your child off to school, walk them down the isle, and on and on and on.

All these things both good and not so good, play out into the motion picture we call our life. And as mom frequently says; “It’s all good.” Its how we deal with each of these events and share both the laughs and burdens with those who are important to us.

Understanding always that love is the act of easing the hurt when you fall off your bike. Love is the act of saying I’m sorry when it wasn’t your fault. Love is the act of helping your child into their car seat, or a parent out of the car when they don’t move as quickly as they used to. Love is teaching a child to walk for the first time, or doing a moonwalk into the Doctors office with your mom. Love is what you make of it and how you share it.

At school, my daughters told me of a program pennies for patients. They are collecting pennies to help those stricken by Leukemia and other illness. I thought it was noteworthy that they wanted to go to their bank and get some money out of their bank accounts to give to the cause. It’s never too early to learn to love. Happy that they figured it out so early in the game.

Hello Dolly!

Submitted by Andy ----------

We have talked before about introspection and how the travel time to the hospital these past few months has allowed us time to talk, thing and remember. Today, when we were driving to Dallas, I just had to tell mom that somehow this experience has transformed her into our version of a great sage. I asked her if she had some extra time in her week, if she wouldn’t mind setting up a little “life works” kiosk on the side of a hill, giving her take on the world in general.

I found it amazing that some of the greatest political minds in the world were having difficulty resolving some of our generations biggest problems, and to some extent made a larger mess of things. Mom after all and by her own admission, has seen some pretty good and pretty heart wrenching things during her years. Maybe the key to making the planet a better place to live is to entrust it’s future in the moms of the worlds? Can you imagine the United Nations, Congress, Parliament or Tribal Councils composed only of mothers? Having a discussion in the kitchen, while stirring over a pot of sauce. Working through the differences without war or hate, having a mutual respect for the other and realizing that it is OK to disagree sometimes. I think we sometimes take for granted the wealth of knowledge and acute awareness that comes from our elders and our young as well.

I’d like to share a personal photo with you all. Kristen at religious education class over the weekend made a Prayer Box. And in that Prayer Box she was to draw a photo of the person she felt needed her prayers. I’ll let you see for yourself the TWO people she picked. Take a look at the detail of the photos, and the simplicity of the photos. Says a lot huh?

So take some time as you travel your day to listen to the young and those wise old birds in your life. I’ve truly enjoyed the time I have spent with the Dolly Momma, and my daughters help keep me grounded on what is important. You just may learn something, you thought you already knew!