Flying Food Fairies!

I have received a few emails asking if my mom’s infection has any correlation with her surgery to remove her tumor back in September. So I thought I would clarify incase someone else is facing the same symptoms.

When she was diagnosed with endometrial cancer back in September of 2006, her gynecological oncologist removed everything, including the lymph nodes. Lymph nodes are fascinating little things. They are part of the immune system and they are the body’s filter. The lymph fluid contains large quantities of the “infection fighters” - white blood cells. The nodes and lymph fluid filter out bacteria, infection and foreign materials that can be hazardous to the body – pretty nifty, huh?

For most people diagnosed with cancer, the only way to find out if the cancer has spread is to examine the lymph nodes. For those diagnosed with endometrial cancer, this is how the cancer is staged and graded. But here is where things can get a little bit tricky. Sometimes, no matter how cautious a surgeon is, when the lymph nodes have been removed, a few stragglers may be left behind. The nodes are microscopic and very hard to see with the naked eye. If nodes are left behind, the lymph fluid collects in them causing a condition known as lymphocele. Now, in most cases, the lymph nodes left behind will be reabsorbed by the body, but in mom’s case, her left behind nodes apparently missed that memo, so the fluid just continued to collect in those left behind nodes until they formed a large mass.

So, that is the reason that she still has that lovely drainage tube. It allows the lymph fluid to leave the body and in a few days, the remaining nodes should collapse and be absorbed. Now, lymphocele is predominantly found in those who have undergone renal transplant or any type of gynecological surgery for cancer. So if you fall into one of those two categories (or no someone who has) be on the look out for fever, chills, abdominal pain or any visible signs of swelling in the pelvic region.

While there is no concrete correlation between mom’s lymphocele infection and her surgery, the doctor does believe that some of the nodes were left behind which served as the catalysis for this latest medical episode. No one is at fault. There is really no way to tell who will fall victim to lymphocele and who will not – just be vigilant if you are in a caregiver position.

Now that we have that all cleared up, we have had two good days at Casa de Longo. Mom is slowly returning to her routines, even though I think there are days when she probably does too much too fast, but for those that know her that will not come as a surprise. Her nurse came by and she was amazed that at the age of 80, mom’s only real illness has been the cancer – it’s good genes! Mom really liked her nurse and she was extremely helpful in getting the physical therapy and follow-up appointments all lined up for mom.

It’s a relief to have her back home. She has come along way in two days and I really think that has a lot to do with being in one’s own environment. I am a firm believer that when we are surrounded by things that are both familiar and comforting to us, we have a tendency to feel much more relaxed and I think that definitely aides in the healing process. Besides, it makes it much easier for Andy and me to check on her (and pop) a few times during the day.

I am also glad to report that our “Meals on Wheels” deliveries have resumed. It’s not that mom and pop can’t cook for themselves, but a few times a week, I always make a little extra, as does Andy. It’s hard to take care of someone who has a major illness, especially when it spans a few months - everyone needs a break now and then. So during those times when momisan doesn’t feel like cooking, we try and give them a cooking reprieve.

Tonight’s delivery was chicken stew with fresh herbs, veggies and baby red potatoes and flaky biscuits. When I arrived at Casa de Longo, I knocked on the door (I avoid the bell for fear mom is resting) and after a few moments, I let myself in. (sorry you gave me that key…aren’t you? ) ;o)

I found the living room empty and as I tip-toed my way to the bedroom to check on mom, I found the cutest sight…mom and pop were napping! Even though we are in a holding pattern until pop’s CT scan for his ocular cancer, I am sure he gets tired like the rest of us.

I left a note on the counter and put dinner in the fridge and quietly snuck out of the house like a giant church mouse! Mom called me three hours later and said that the most amazing thing had happened…Food Fairies had come while they were sleeping and they had left a lovely meal in the fridge for which her tummy was truly thankful for. Now before anyone thinks my mom has been hitting her meds too hard, she didn’t really see Food Fairies, she knew it was me…but it was totally cute when she called. :o)

Here’s a big round of applause for all the Food Fairies who manage to drop care packages to cancer patients and/or their families. Every random act of kindness and support that is shown to a family struggling with cancer is both priceless and appreciated.

Find your blessings this weekend!

Val

Home or Bust

Thank You Lord that the past ten days finally came to an end today.

As I stated in a previous blog, it has been a very rough week for me (Andy and Pop too) with mom in the hospital and lovely family drama that has me on the verge of being the recipient of a peptic ulcer – it’s pretty safe to say that I hit my breaking point this week.

But I am happy to say that we finally got our blessing today – we took mom home…drainage tube and all. That’s the one reminder she has of her hospital visit, but as soon as those lymph nodes close up and stop draining, the tube will be removed. She’ll be on antibiotics for two weeks and will work with a physical therapist to work out the kinks she has from being in bed for ten days. All other Cancer treatments are in a holding pattern until she is fully recovered from this infection and gets some of her strength back.

She is all settled in at Casa de Longo and she is looking forward to a good night’s sleep in her own bed.

As I have stated in so many of my other blog postings, we celebrate every single step that moves us in a positive direction…and today was no different. As the nurse wheeled mom to my truck, everyone admired her “Home or Bust” sign. And as we drove home, mom grabbed my hand and told me that she was “leaving the dance with the one that brought her.” Do you hear that, Cancer? We are going to two-step, electric slide, waltz and Samba our way to the end!

Here’s to a good night’s sleep in ones own bed surrounded by their own stuff!

Thank you all for your prayers and well wishes, tomorrow is another day filled with new blessings and adventures.

Val

(With a son and son-in-law in law enforcment, we never want for a police escort!)

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