The beginning

I'm no writer, I'm just a simple girl, often teased as a 'silver lining' girl for being naively optimistic, that happens to have a mother courageously fighting the big C.  Typically, I stroll about with birds singing and unicorns with rainbows lining my brain.  But this life event has stirred deep thoughts and in an effort to update friends and family in one swoop as well as offering an outlet for said thoughts to spill forth and hopefully cease their endless circling of the bowl, I've created my own little blog.  A safe place where random thoughts and sometimes meaningless and unconnected ideas can settle.  Let me start at the beginning.

I was newly pregnant with our first child 15 years ago when my mom, Linda, sat me down to inform me that one of her suspect breast tumors tested positive for Cancer.  I can still feel the texture of the velvety couch beneath me and remember the exact color of the carpet.  It's funny how you associate random things with significant life events.  My mom, a maternity nurse for over 25 years at Easton Memorial in Easton, Md, was diligent about having her mammograms and having every fibrous cyst examined.  I don't even remember how many biopsies she had prior to the naughty one emerging.  So, she wasn't surprised...she was calm, cool, and collected as she delivered her news.  She was going to attack it fiercely by doing a double mastectomy for the one wee tumor.  The surgery was successful and her lymph nodes were clear.  All seemed good in the world.  She returned as scheduled every six months to test her blood for Cancer markers.  And at year 11, her numbers spiked.  IT had returned.  A Pet scan confirmed the beast was now in her uterus, her liver, her scapula, and neck bone.  Crap.  Again, she attacked like a prize-fighter and scheduled a full hysterectomy but she wasn't a candidate for chemotherapy...I don't make these decisions.  Her doctor prescribed her a round of intelligent horomones which supposedly knew how to get into the cancer cells and starve them but leaving the surrounding cells healthy and intact.  There are truly some very smart people in this world!  The horomone therapy seemed to work for about a year when her cancer markers began to rise again.  NOW she was a candidate for chemo!  So, for one year she was dosed with numerous blends of toxins which would seem to work one month and stop working the next.  So fickle.  She lost her hair almost immediately.  I had to talk my dear niece, Angel, off the ledge as she was tasked with shaving the last fuzzy bits of hair from atop her grandmother's head.  Like my velvety couch and blue carpet, I know she'll never loose that image.  Next were her fingernails.  They became paper thin one month, then hoof-thick the next.  Always appearing as if they'd peel off at the slightest graze.  She diligently met every appointment for chemo, making good friends with the nurses and doctor.  Some treatments had to be dripped slowly to check for reaction and she sat in the same recliner for 6 long hours.  Never complaining.  Never.  Her numbers dropped and rose, then seemed to be dropping for good.  They were so low this past October that the doctor announced she may be able to take a break over the holidays...she became excited over the idea of a healthy Thanksgiving and Christmas.  Then, out of the blue, numbers that were almost back down to a baseline level were now off the charts.  The beast had found a way to thrive despite the intelligent toxins.  Which is where we are today.

Over Thanksgiving break, I convinced her to stay with me...letting me pamper her.  Letting her rest uninterrupted.  Feeding her with nourishing smoothies and healthy meals.  That lasted two short days.  It seems that her liver has stopped talking nicely with the rest of her body and is now dumping fluid into her torso...swirling around the spaces between organs instead of exiting nicely.  The fluids increased which pressed against her lungs making it difficult to breath.  I came home from a teacher conference to hear a quiet request to be taken to the ER.  Comforting ME...it's okay, Lisa.  No rush.  I promptly escorted her back to Easton Memorial, her stomping grounds.  She had 1500cc's taken from her torso in that visit.  I sat with her and in typical nurse Linda fashion, she was more worried about me passing out than her own shortness of breath.  The doctors removed two pitchers worth of bright yellow fluid from her belly.  All should be good, I thought.  She was admitted and held there for four days.  Never really regaining her energy, her full breath.  Prompted by my mentor Aunt Gail, I called her Oncologist and asked the hard questions.  Historically, 1/3 will rally and maintain for another 6 months.  However, the remaining 2/3 do not improve enough for more chemo, the cancer will continue to grow, and their weakened bodies can no longer fight.  For that 2/3 we were looking at 2 weeks to several months.  My mom had previously rallied between good and 'bad' chemos, so we all were expecting the same this time.  I had the daunting task as big sister to make that phone call and 'prepare' them.  That was two and a half weeks ago.  Every day seems borrowed. 

Mom's birthday was December 12th...64 years young.  I traveled back home to celebrate and ensure she was treated like the princess she is.  She had another drainage scheduled two days prior so that she could better enjoy her birthday but the fluid continued to swell her belly appearring 4 months pregnant.  She has a good sense of humor and lets me tease her about feeling kicks.  Instead of massages and bucket list items, she opted for lining up paperwork for taxes, contacting Social Security to begin the disability process, and calling funeral homes for pricing on cremation.  It wasn't what I had planned, but I'm humbled and honored that she trusted me to get it done.  I prayed the entire trip down and the entire trip back to Pennsylvania...thankful for the words said and the wisdom to be productive for her.  I don't know how many days I'll have with her...feels like we're already on borrowed time as she had 11 long years between incident one and incident two. 

I am thankful for a supportive husband that keeps the ship running all too well and doesn't question when I feel led to visit her. I am thankful for my children that don't freak out when I burst into tears. I am thankful for my friends that check in and I know pray for all of us.  I am thankful for each time I get to chat with mom...it means she's still here. 

If you're still reading, thank you.  My intention is to be transparent so that you'll understand why I look like I've been punched in the face, why I don't feel like smiling most days,  why I'm slow to return emails or phone calls.  My brain is constantly spinning with a thousand new thoughts and emotions.  I told my daughter I feel bi-polar...laughing one minute, guilty for being happy the next.  Busy and productive one minute, and scraping the barrel the next.  So, indulge me with the opportunity to get these thoughts on screen.