..it is the chemo. I’ve heard that before and beginning to think it is true. Long before the cancer can kill you, putting poison in your body will do the trick, and not nicely.
I’ve been too busy of late to write much, but it is time to let you all know I am still around. When I’m not working or crocheting, I’ve been helping mom. As you may recall, she has terminal cancer. Her most recent type of chemo, which is only to buy some time, dang near took her from us. Seems she lacked an enzyme necessary for her body to break it down. You cannot just get that enzyme, it comes from your parents and seems no on had it to pass along. Rather unfortunate.
Two weeks ago tomorrow, after 10 or 12 days of not eating, diarrhea, vomiting, dehydration etc etc, and multiple trips to the infusion center for IVs of fluids, mom was confused and so pale that my sister drew a line in the sand: hospice or 911, pick one. Mom has very little recollection of what followed, but we thankfully got her into the hospital in time. Docs said had we waited another 24 hours they don’t think they could have pulled her back. She had a blood infection, next to no white count etc. It is a bit alarming when suddenly, after taking blood for a check in the ER, they suddenly start handing out masks because her immune system is so compromised, even she had to wear one. Once the infection was isolated she started antibiotics in the hospital, and for 16 days, once a day via IV at the infusion center.
While her appetite is slow to return, and her energy, it is progressing. But for her own safety I should probably not be taking her for these meds. Day before yesterday, when we went, she told them about her ankle and foot being swollen. Turns out a side effect of this chemo (now nearly a month ago and still causing issues) is blood clots. So after the infusion, I had to run her up north for a check and sure enough, she doesn’t have one, but rather two clots. OH the joy.
Today, while going through the bazillion routine questions that are asked each visit, they grow concerned that she is a bit unstable, light headed at times. So, after 3 hours of fluids, antibiotics and potassium, we got to run to another location for a CT scan, fearing a clot in her lungs. Thankfully that was not the case. Again, this weird crap only happens when I take her so I’m thinking someone else needs to cover my days before we get there and discover she has left her head behind on her pillow or something.
I was joking around with her today, because my mom has what we refer to as parking karma. No matter where we go, a spot seems to just open up in every parking lot, right up front. I told her that we’re going to take her ashes in the urn and she will go with us, EVERYWHERE, in the hopes we will continue this good fortune. Even planning a trip to the ocean where we will take group photos with ‘mom’ in the urn. Yes, we are just that warped. Kidding aside, she is donating her body for medical science and education so we won’t be having a funeral. When they finish in a year or so, they cremate the remains and give her back in ash form. It is cool that she will continue to touch lives even after she is gone from us, helping others learn.
Meanwhile, we simply aren’t crossing that emotional bridge until we arrive at it, since there is no point mourning what is not yet lost.
The nice part about taking her is we spend time together that we might not have otherwise.