Day 12: Relief

I'm home from the hospital. It's been a long day. But the mom I saw pre-port insertion was much different than the mom I saw post-port insertion and that was good!

I had just found my parents in the waiting area, when they called to have my mom go back for her admitting process in triage. They only allowed one person back so dad told me to go back with mom. It started kind of rough with the nurses not really listening, but once I kept repeating myself, they started to listen a little more and within a half hour, we had two nurses both devoted to getting answers and taking care of mom. It was a good reminder to me, as someone who spends time in hospitals with people, that although hospital protocol is normal for the staff, it is not at all normal to the patients. And everyone that works in a hospital in any setting needs to remember that and treat each patient with care and compassion. Because I was there to ask lots of questions, I think mom's nurses paid more attention. If she didn't have someone there, I think there would have been more of just the regular protocol and not a lot of answers from the staff. Honestly, I think there should be Surgical Doulas that are just there to support families through that experience! But I digress...

Mom was nervous when I was with her. She couldn't really answer all the questions the staff was asking of her. She had eaten an egg at 3am and it was now 10:30am and she was very worried about her blood sugar. One of her nurses took her blood sugar and it was fine which both confused mom and settled her down a bit. She was still upset that she couldn't eat, but the staff explained that she was going to have conscious sedation and that was why she couldn't eat.

Mom had to sign and initial a couple of forms. She could sign her name somewhat slowly, but she couldn't do the initials. She could get her first initial, but not her last. I explained this to the nurse and she looked a little confused. I went on to explain that mom has been losing her ability to type and write and the nurse said, "Don't even worry about the initials!" and then I think it really hit her that this was more than just a simple port insertion for mom. She became much more attentive after that.

At one point they asked mom if she had a living will to which she answered yes. So, the nurse said she just needed a basic answer as to whether or not mom would want resuscitation if necessary. This kind of threw her. I told her that her answer today might be different than the answer she would have given when she put together her living will. And then the other nurse looked at her and said, "You know, you're here to fight this cancer. If you didn't care, you'd be at the ballpark, eating a hot dog, living up your 3 months, but you're here to fight this, so I think you'd want them to resuscitate you." I wanted to hug that nurse! Mom understood it when put that way and said that, yes, she would want to be resuscitated.

Dad and I switched off when they went through mom's medication list. Dad brought a file folder full of information. He's completely organized and has everything all together. It was fantastic! That's my dad! :-) They got all of the information straightened out, called me back to give mom a kiss and she was off to her her port inserted.

Dad and I went to the cafeteria and had some food and coffee and chatted a bit. We then when back to the waiting area and sat and chatted some more. It was nice to just sit and talk with him. He told me a little of his experience last Thursday night when he had to call the medics for mom again. He was really scared. It broke my heart to hear it, but I was glad he was sharing it with me. This has all been really tough on dad too. I was glad I could give him just a little relief today.

After about an hour, I went back to see mom in post-op. She looked like a new woman. She said she felt great. Her blood pressure and pulse were very low, so her fantastic post-op nurse, Bunny, was loading her up with coffee and broth and juice and a turkey sandwich. Mom was in heaven. :-)

Her pulse leveled off and her blood pressure came up and before we knew it, Bunny was telling us that mom could get ready to go. Mom got dressed, we brought Dad back and Bunny gave us her discharge instructions. Dad left to go pull the car around and Bunny put my mom in a wheel chair and wheeled her out to meet my dad.

Mom seemed so relieved. As did dad. Mom's experience today was SO much better than 2 weeks ago. The staff was really wonderful with her. And the heated gowns??? Wow...those are so cool! Has anyone had or seen one of those? I gotta get some of those up at the birth centers! LOL!

One of the things that was stressed to my parents was that they do need to contact mom's doctor about the blood sugar issues, so I'm hoping dad will have done that this afternoon. Or at least tomorrow. They are both worried every night that mom is going to have another episode. She said she goes to bed every night just hoping she wakes up normal. That's not a good way to live.

So, this step is over. Chemo starts Friday. That "should be" less traumatic than we thought today was going to be. I'll be heading back up for that as well. Hopefully we'll have mom's MRI results (that part she DID NOT like this morning!) by then as well.

Gratefully, I don't have to work tonight. We had to postpone class so I'm able to just rest and enjoy my evening with my boys. :-)

I feel like I can breathe a little better today. The sun is shining right now and I'm feeling hopeful again.

I think we're all feeling a bit of relief tonight. One step at a time...that's all we all have to do and mom took several steps forward today! :-)

Thank you to all of you who have continued to let me know that we're in your thoughts and prayers. It means so very much to me!!!

Day 11: Physically preparing

Tomorrow is the day at the hospital. I drop off the boys early with a dear friend who is going to watch them all day so that I can be with mom (THANK YOU JULIE! :-)).

Dad just called and said I didn't need to be there bright and early for the MRI, so I plan to get there around 9:30am to sit with them through the admitting process and then go through the shunt insertion with mom. They're saying it could be 2pm before she's done. The big concern right now is her having another diabetic episode and that's what dad and I will be watching for. If she has one, this might turn into an even longer day. But I'm being hopeful that everything will go as planned.

I expect it will be an emotional day as well as this is the start of this journey into chemo treatments which is incredibly scary. But is also hopefully the start of getting my mom healthier too which is a good thing!

So, for those of you reading...good thoughts and prayers would be much appreciated tomorrow. Will update tomorrow night...

Day 10: Mentally Preparing

So, the weekend is coming to a close. All my boys are home. I had some downtime and time for myself. I didn't really like being alone...but I did take it easy for the most part.

And now I start preparing for a busy week ahead. I head to the hospital on Tuesday and then back to the cancer center on Friday.

I've found that numb place again. But I've also smiled more today than I have in probably 10 days so that's good too.

Tomorrow is a new week. I'm staying hopeful for a GOOD week.

The journey continues and starts to ramp up into full gear this week. Keep us in your thoughts and prayers.

Day 9: Calm

So, I've had a day completely to myself today. I can count on one hand all the days I've had a house to myself in the last 10 years. Honestly, I don't really like it. I'm bored out of my mind and boredom lets my mind wander, but I've done a pretty good job of holding off any negative thoughts today.

A good friend's Mother-In-Law died today. She's been sick for a long time, but I don't think their family was expecting her to go just yet. This news hit me hard. I have always felt bad for people when they lose someone...but this loss hits really close to home and I truly feel so much hurt for she and her husband.

I did talk to mom today and she sounded good. And she and dad are getting together with friends for lunch tomorrow and that's good too. I'm incredibly grateful that I'm able to go up with them on Tuesday for mom's MRI and shunt insertion (thank you Julie for watching my boys! :-)).

So, although I miss my boys and can't wait for all of them (my 2 little boys, and my one grown up boy...;-)) to come home tomorrow, I did get a lot done around the house today and did spend quite a bit of time doing nothing...although I'm pretty tired of that now. But perhaps it was a day I needed. And it's good to be resting in preparation for a busy week ahead.

I felt calmer today than I have in 9 days, so I guess that's a plus. Calm is good. I'll take it right now.

Day 8: Scream

A scream came out of me on my drive home tonight. It was primal and raw. I don't know where it came from, but my throat still hurts.

It's been a long day...suffice it to say that something is up with mom's diabetes and my gut tells me that it's tied in directly to the cancer, but I couldn't get mom to call the doctor today.

We're not going up to my brother's tomorrow as planned and that makes me sad.

I feel useless. I feel like I need to be taking care of my mom but I don't know what to do.

My boys are at their dad's. Olly is at his parents in Eastern Washington.

I'm alone.

And tonight I really feel that way.

I'm cleaning and organizing trying to stay busy. But there's so much bubbling up inside.

I was crying so much on my drive tonight that I had to pull over and calm down. As I got back on the road, the tears started coming again and I just got so mad and this scream came out of me. It came from somewhere I've never been before. It was a release. But I feel there is so much more.

My mom is exhausted. My dad is exhausted. And I feel useless. I just want it all to stop. I want to go back to the world before cancer. But there's no going back. I know we have to keep going forward. But tonight, I just am lonely and sad and scared and angry.

I'm not giving up hope. But maybe a little, I'm giving in to the reality that I am a human being and I can only hold it together for so long. And maybe this is just the right time to let it go. When I'm alone. Although what I wouldn't give for some supportive arms around me right now.

So, I go back to cleaning until my body says it's time to rest. I really should get that rest. I have a busy week ahead. I should let myself take in the downtime...but I've never been very good at that.

I clean when I'm upset. I get that from my mom. My house should be in great shape by the time this weekend is over.

Day 7: The First Week

So, a week ago today I was just finishing up a childbirth class and still reeling with the news that my mom was very ill.

This has been an incredibly long week. I've gone from complete despair to sadness to reflection to this place where I'm at now where I'm just determined that my mom is going to beat this.

Today mom got her chemo schedule. Looks like she'll have chemo once a week for 3 weeks in a row starting next Friday and then will have a week off and then back on for 3 weeks. I don't know how long this goes on, but for now, I feel like there's a plan.

The doctors are telling her she may not lose her hair and hopefully won't get too sick from the chemo. That's good news.

Mom said the building where she'll be getting her chemo has a beautiful view. I guess that's something...

Her stomach is starting to give her some problems again. The doctor said it would be good to hold out on having it drained for as long as she can, so she's trying to do just that. But it looks like she'll be needing to have it drained in the not too distant future.

So, I'm in the mode of arranging for childcare for Fridays (anyone want to jump in? ;-)) and planning my weeks. I want to be there for as many of her chemo appointments as possible. I'm also trying to find a good voice recorder so that mom can start telling me her "story".

This time last week I was in such shock. Today, the shock has worn off somewhat and has been replaced by this determination. I like this feeling better and hope I can hang on to it throughout the coming weeks!

So, here we go on to week 2. Moving forward. Staying positive. Determined for my mom to beat this! Believing it can be done!

Thanks to all of you who continue to offer me your thoughts and prayers and kind words. I can't explain how much they mean to me. You are all what has gotten me through this week! Thank you just doesn't seem like enough, but it's all I've got right now. So, Thank You, Thank You, Thank You! :-)

Day 6: Contemplation

So, I've been thinking I shouldn't have named my blog what I did. When I first created it, I had the time frame of 3 months in my head. But now mom is doing treatment. But I guess all of life is small goodbyes isn't it? So, I'll leave it as it is, but as of day 6, I'm feeling a bit more hopeful. Sort of. The problem is that when I feel hopeful, the other side of my brain says, "Don't get your hopes up". The other side of my brain says that some people don't even live as long as their prognosis. I want to kick the shit out of that side of my brain.

I want this hope. I want to have it. I want to believe that this treatment is going to work and my mom is going to be one of those people who tells her story years and years from now. I want the other stupid side of my brain to shut the hell up.

So many people are praying and thinking good thoughts for my mom. So many people are keeping hope and faith. I want to have that too. And I do. Until the other side of my brain wants to take it from me. What is that about our brains (or at least mine) that can't just look at the positive side w/o having the negative thrown in just to create havoc?

I'm obviously still a work in progress. But I am definitely going to keep working on it.

Of course, having one of the books I ordered show up today didn't help anything. I couldn't get through the introduction page. I'm not ready to be a motherless daughter so my mom is just going to have to deal with that and hang around for a lot longer. We always used to joke that she'd live past 100 just to drive me crazy. I want that. I want her to drive me crazy. I want to drive her crazy. I want 27 more years of our up and down relationship. I just want her HERE!

I was supposed to have the rest of the week off from teaching, but was asked to sub tonight. I REALLY didn't want to go. But I don't know how to say no, and I was fully capable of teaching so I wouldn't have said no anyway. I figured that God was telling me that I needed to get out of the house and do what I'm good at. And so I did. And I did it well. And I'm amazed that I can still function when my brain would just like me to curl up in a corner. We humans are something else. And perhaps I truly am stronger than I think I am.

I've been in touch with some of my aunts and uncles. That feels good. I need to reconnect with family right now. My life has been in such turmoil the past couple of years that I've kind of retreated to my own little world. But now it's time to open up the doors again and re-enter the rest of the world. Stronger and wiser than before.

Out of bad things...good can be found. I've learned a lot about myself in the past 6 days. I've reconnected with family. And I've felt an enormous amount of support and love. That is what is carrying me through the bad...and hoping on the other side of that is some more incredible GOOD!!

I am hopeful tonight and I believe this treatment is going to work and that my mom is going to be around a lot longer than the doctors say she will! So, take THAT negative side of my brain! Tonight the positive side wins out! And we'll continue to just take it one day at a time.

Day 5: Moving Ahead

So, things are moving. Thursday mom and dad go to the cancer center for treatment and financial counseling. It's so great to sit down and see how much you're going to have to pay to stay alive. :-(

Then next Tuesday, mom has an MRI and gets her shunt/port put in for her chemo. Still don't know when the chemo will actually start, but I guess we're on our way.

I'm frustrated by the fact that they still can't determine exactly where the cancer is originating from. They are going to treat her for the most obvious type, which seems to be ovarian cancer. They'll keep looking for a specific starting point though. They did say that if it is ovarian cancer, they can probably get my mom into remission which is a positive thought. Although ovarian cancer almost always returns so this wouldn't be the end of chemo.

I'm also annoyed at how long the whole process is taking. Although I suppose this is just day 5. But when someone says you have 3 months to live without any treatment and then it takes almost 2 weeks to start treatment...I don't know...it just seems like a long time.

I'm still walking around in this weird fog. Going through the motions. Getting things done. But very slowly and not with a lot of joy. Thank goodness for my sweet boys who do continue to give me my daily smiles.

I'm still not sleeping well and getting up in the morning is tough. But it's still all one step at a time. Some of these steps feel like my feet are weighted down though. The effort it takes to take a step sometimes seems like it's taking all I've got. But I will keep moving forward because my mom is fighting and intend to fight for her right by her side!

Day 4: Emotional Exhaustion

Day 4? How can 4 days seem so long and so short at the same time? I no longer remember what life was like before my mom's diagnosis. And yet, I can't believe 4 days have already gone by.

I'm beat. Emotionally beat. I taught for the first time since the cancer was confirmed. It was harder than I imagined. It was a Newborn class and I bring up my own experiences occasionally and tonight, I mentioned my mom. And it was a story I've told countless times, but tonight when I said "my mom" I almost felt like I lost a little breath. As I was speaking, things were running through my head...things like, "Oh my gosh, my mom is dying." "How will I say these things when mom is gone?" It was just so odd how I could still talk, tell the story, and teach while my brain was somewhere completely different. I guess that's the benefit of having done this as long as I have.

I don't have to teach again until next Tuesday. That's very rare but could not have happened at a better time. I don't know how my brother is getting up and going to work every day. Learning a new job and holding it together. I stand in front of a class and I feel like everyone can see through me. I feel like it's so obvious I'm going through something big. I look at myself in the mirror and I look exhausted. And I don't care. I don't care that people must wonder why I look the way I do. I just don't care.

Right now, I don't care about much. I care about my kids. I'm still a damn good mom. They come first. I care about my family. All of us who are dealing with this stupid cancer. I care about my friends who have been so incredible. But I don't care about what's on the news. I don't care about what is happening to other people. And that's unusual for me. I am fascinated by people and their stories. And I'm one of those people that has always truly wanted an answer to the "how are you" question when I ask it. But right now, I just don't care.

And I notice I'm starting to get angry. Really angry. I don't handle little stuff well right now. My classroom was locked tonight and I couldn't get someone to open it. And I was REALLY worked up. I was sitting in the hall getting incredibly angry. I was angry over a locked door. But I suppose it wasn't really the door. That's not where the anger is coming from. But I don't know who to be mad at. I want to be mad at someone. I want to physically hit someone. I want to scream and yell at someone. I want someone to hear my anger.

This just isn't fair. She's not supposed to die yet. She deserved a good long old age to enjoy herself. She's too young. She's younger than any of my grandparents were when they died. I know 73 isn't "young", but just a couple of months ago, she was healthy (so we thought). This is just not fair and I'm really, really angry about it.

I see the whole world differently. It's truly like it's a different place. A place where I'm losing my mom. And I don't like it. I know I'm not the first person who has ever lost their mom, but man when you're going through it, somehow it feels that way.

I feel so damn lost and alone. I don't know how I feel alone when I have so much support. But it still feels so lonely in this place I'm in. My brother and I are going to get together and talk soon. We've never talked a lot. I love him. He's an awesome person to have as a brother. He's my baby brother, but we've never been those siblings who talk a lot to one another. But we are the only 2 people in the world who can understand what the other is going through right now. And we're going to sit down and talk. Maybe I'll feel just a little less alone after that. I wish this wasn't the reason we decided to sit down and talk though...

It is interesting how the human brain deals with things like this. I find it fascinating to see how I can hold it together some times and how other times turn me into a babbling mess.

Tomorrow mom meets with the Oncologist to discuss her treatment plans. Tomorrow things begin. I'm glad we're moving forward. But it does make it all very real. And there's a part of my brain that still wants to believe I'm going to wake up from this very bad dream sometime soon.

But it's not a nightmare...it's my life. Every day I wake up and it's the first thing I think. Heck, I wake up several times each night and it's the first thing I think.

I'm just so exhausted...and it's just the beginning. The beginning of what I hope will be a very long journey. I can handle the exhaustion. My mom is still here. I will push through it. I will keep putting one foot in front of the other. And I'll keep taking those steps right next to my mom for however long it takes. And I hope & pray that it's a really, really, really long time.

Day 3: Baby Steps

I wonder if those of you who have been here before can let me know if some days you were just so cried out that you literally had no tears left.

That's how I feel today.

I saw my Mom today. She seems to have aged overnight. But strangely I didn't fall apart like I had expected. I never even felt close to crying. And we talked about a lot. And my dad talked a lot! It's so odd...3 years ago, I thought I was losing my dad. Then we got his Parkinson's diagnosis and he started medication and he became Dad again. But this is the first time I've really felt like he was the dad I grew up with. He's protective of mom and he seems very in control. My mom has been taking care of him for so long, I'd gotten used to that. But he's making sure to take care of himself and he seems to be really on top of looking out for my mom. That certainly made me feel better about having to leave them today. Although leaving was really, really hard.

My mom looks fragile to me. I'm not used to that. My mom has always been tough. In fact I grew up pretty afraid of her. I just never wanted her wrath. :-O

I talked to her about telling me her life story. She kind of laughed about it and said she doesn't know how much she remembers. Then my dad piped in and said that he had been wanting to do that with his parents before they died and regrets that he didn't. I think my mom was just embarrassed by the idea of someone wanting to hear her story, but I think she's willing to do it and I'm very happy about that.

The good news is that she has decided to try treatment and if it becomes too much for her then she'll stop. But I'm SO happy she's going to at least attempt it!

The bad news is that I really think the cancer has spread further than any of us want to admit. I have a serious concern that it is in her brain. She told me that she stopped being able to type a little while back. She can't remember the keyboard. And she can't write anymore either. She forgets how to write the letters. And my mom has always been a letter writer. Something is off in her brain and I'm concerned it's the cancer. She had a Cat Scan last week in the hospital but her doctor told her he wanted to do another. I told her she needed to ask why and she needed to let them know about the stuff that is happening to her. Although, my guess, and it's a pure guess on my part, is that her doctor already knows that this has spread and just wants another Cat Scan to confirm. My mom's oldest sister died of brain cancer so maybe it's just something I'm speculating on and it won't come to pass.

What I do know is that her abdominal cavity is filled with cancer cells. And that's not good. All her internal organs are floating in cancer filled fluid. She's going to need to have her stomach drained probably twice a week. She doesn't want to go back to the hospital because they treated her so poorly. I promised her we wouldn't leave her alone and dad agreed. The chemo will be at the cancer center and she feels comfortable there.

There were sad random moments today. My dad is wanting to start giving me stuff. I'm not ready to start cleaning out their house. My mom made mention of being a bad mom and repeated what I've heard throughout my life...that she should never have had children. That still kind of stings. But I really believe she feels she was a bad mom and I don't feel that way. I think she did the best she could with the resources she had. There are bad moms out there. My mom isn't one of them. It makes me sad that she's still being so hard on herself.

But there was also quite of bit of laughter today. And I was glad that my boys were able to spend some time with both my parents.

Tomorrow my mom calls her doctor to let her know she'd like to attempt treatment. A plan of action will be set from there. I expect I'll be making another trip or two up north this week. Next Saturday I'm taking her up to my brother and SILs to be able to see my SILs 3D ultrasound. She's never been able to see anything like that before so it should be special for her.

I still feel weird that no tears have fallen today. I feel nowhere near acceptance. But maybe I just used up all my tears the last couple of days and they need to regenerate. ;-)

What I know is that I'm exhausted, physically and emotionally. If I'm not up North on Tuesday, I have an appt with my own ND to get myself all supplemented up so my nervous and immune systems are working well and can support me through whatever is to come.

My mom told me today that she'd like to see Christmas again. That gave me hope. I'd like that too! And hope and a positive attitude is a good thing right now.

One foot in front of the other...continuing to move forward.

Day 2: Numbness

Today has been weird. I feel incredibly numb and emotionless. That's not like me. I assume this is some sort protective mechanism inside my body right now.

Not that I haven't had moments of complete despair...like in the shower. But for the most part, my brain is just spinning and spinning and spinning and I can't keep up with it all and I just end up sort of numb.

What I'm trying to deal with right now is the idea that I can't be happy. That I can't enjoy normal daily stuff because my mom is dying. When I feel myself smile, I feel immediate guilt. I know, rationally, that it's okay to be happy. I know that my mom certainly wouldn't want me miserable every minute of the day. But the other side of my head has a physical reaction to happiness or even the feeling of being content right now.

It's the weekend. It's time to relax and enjoy some quiet time. But I don't want to enjoy anything. Hello! My mom is dying! That's the message that keeps repeating itself in my head. Again, rationally I get that this isn't the way it has to be. It's just that the rational side of me isn't working all that well right now. Even sleeping last night felt like it was wrong. As though I shouldn't even sleep right now. Again, irrational...but that's what I am right now, apparently.

Tomorrow I get to see my mom though. That will be good. I need that. Although I don't pretend to think that it won't be hard too. Some hard decisions need to start happening and I'm not sure I'm ready for them. But I also know that I don't really have much choice in the matter.

Today, I also found myself buying books off of ebay that have to do with daughters losing their mothers. I guess that's part of my grief process. I need to read about others' stories.

And again, today, I am SO thankful for my friends. Steph, thank you SO much for sitting and listening to me spew today for 2 1/2 hours. When I woke up this morning, I didn't want to do anything or see anyone. But knowing we had a coffee date got me going and out of my pajamas. And just talking helped so much. Julie & Shannon, thank you for letting me talk your ear off on the phone. To my Facebook friends, thank you for your comments and messages and prayers and virtual hugs. Kiersten, my wonderful SIL...I love you so much and I know you're doing your own grieving. I am so thankful to have you in my life and in my family and know that we will lean on each other a lot over the coming months. And I'm so glad that you're there for my brother. I'm so incredibly grateful for that! And Olly, thank you for loving me. That's truly all I need you to do. I know you can't fix this. And I know I'm hard to be around right now. I can't promise that I'll figure this out anytime soon. And I can't promise that I won't push you away now and then, but I love you and am so glad you're in my life and will walk down this very scary and dark path with me.

And I'm probably forgetting people. For that I'm sorry because I do appreciate each and every one of you. I have never been someone who is good at asking for help. I help other people. That's what I do for a living. But right now in my life, I really NEED people. So, thank you to all of you who are saying prayers and keeping me and my family in your thoughts. It means more than I could ever say.

It's really only been 26 hours since the cancer diagnosis, but it seems like SO much longer. I feel like I've lived a lifetime in those 26 hours. And this is just the beginning. I feel like the world is a completely different place. I feel as though I'm walking around in a fog. I wonder when that will change? I wonder when the fog will clear...even a little.

Thankfully I have a career I love and I believe will be good for me throughout this journey. It will give me time to get out of the fog now and then as I help guide other families through birth. All the while walking my own path through death in my family. It is the circle of life after all. My new nephew will be here in a little over 2 months. My own family is dealing with our own circle of life. I so want my mom to be here for that birth. I want her to meet her new grandson. And I want my own boys to have as much time with their Nana as possible.

So, part of me is tired of the numbness already. But the other part of me knows that the opposite of this numbness is pain. And I know my body is trying to push that down with it's own little numbing technique. But it can't hold away the pain forever. It will come. I'm sure some of it will be tomorrow. But I hope tomorrow will include some laughter as well. I want my mom to laugh a lot. And I want to laugh with her. Those are the memories I'll carry forever.

I've survived the first full day. Right now, that is a small accomplishment that I'll take. One day at a time. One hour at a time. One moment at a time. That's all I can really expect from myself right now.

Day 1: Cancer

Today I learned that my mom has cancer. And as we do in the 21st century, I've decided that I'm going to blog my journey through this. Because this is what I do. I share. Somehow it helps it all stop rotating around and around in my head over and over. Well...maybe a little anyway. And right now it gives me something to do...a way to process...slowly...instead of huddled in a corner in tears.

But this obviously isn't all about me.

It's about my mom first of all, and my dad. They've been married 50 years and have known each other since they were infants. They grew up across the street from each other in a small logging town in Central Washington. They've known each other for 73 years!

This is about my two boys (ages 10 & 7) and the first great loss they are going to experience in their lives.

This is about my brother and his wife and their 2 year old son and their baby that is due in 2 months.

This is about my aunts and uncles.

This is about my mom's friends.

I guess this blog is for all of us that love this woman who is dying. It is for us. And it is a tribute to my mom. To Nancy.

And perhaps someone else will read it who is going through something similar or who has been here and stories will be shared.

For as in many mother/daughter relationships, our has had it's ups and downs. But I'm not ready to lose my mom. And I have no choice in any of this. But I do have the power in how I choose to handle it. And my goal is to find my mom as we say our good-byes over whatever time we have left. I intend to get my mom's story. In her own words. Although I hate this cancer that is taking my mom, I do believe I have been given the gift of even a little time left with her to find out all I can about who she truly is. In doing this, I will also find out more of who I am. I want to learn about the woman who is Nancy. Not just the mom. Because in being a mom myself, I know there is much more to me than being a mom. I should have learned all this years ago, but it's too late for regrets now. Now is the time I have and I intend to make the most of it. And as I make this journey to finding my mom, I will share bits and pieces here.

To begin the story...

I learned my mom was sick last night just before I was to begin a Childbirth Class that I was teaching. My parents called and were both on the phone. I immediately knew this wasn't good news. My dad said, "Well, we have some good news and some bad news." The good news was something simple enough and we actually chatted about it for several minutes. Then I asked, "What's the bad news?" That's when my dad said, "Well, it's really bad." My mom started to cry and told my dad he needed to tell me.

He explained that my mom had been in the hospital for 2 days (sigh...my parents were raised in a generation that doesn't tell their kids when they are sick or in the hospital). She awoke with abdominal bloating on Tuesday, was admitted to the hospital and had a tumor removed from her liver. There wasn't a diagnosis yet on Thursday night, but they were scheduled to see an Oncologist today so the assumption was cancer.

And today at 4:00pm, I called to get an update. My dad told me that things weren't great. My mom got on the phone and my dad proceeded to tell me that it was indeed cancer and if my mom chose treatment (chemo), she was given a year to live. I asked what the prognosis was without treatment and he told me 3 months.

I have never had a reaction to anything like I did those words: "three months". I dropped to the floor in honest physical and emotional pain. I sobbed. My mom cried too and said she was sorry. I asked her why she was saying she was sorry. She had done nothing wrong. But as a mother, I know that she must have been sad to hear me so sad and wished she could fix it, all the while dealing with her own sadness.

I'm 39 years old. I'll be 40 next month. I didn't expect to lose my parents yet. Granted, they are in their early 70s, but they still seem too young. I am NOT ready for this. And I am angry, so damn angry, that this is happening. And I'm scared and incredibly sad and lost and vulnerable and, at various moments, paralyzed.

So, my evening has been spent talking with friends and family. Thank God for all of them! I am so blessed with the people around me.

And now it's time to try and sleep. Last night wasn't so good. I don't expect tonight to be much better. I don't expect a lot of good night's sleep any time soon.

Tomorrow is my nephew's 2nd birthday. It is very likely the last birthday my mom will see of his, and quite possibly of any of her grandsons. Although I hope that isn't the case.

Tomorrow is Day 2 of processing this. On Sunday, I make my first of what will be many trips up to my parents' house. It's about an hour and 45 minutes away. But I am going to be spending as much time up there as I possibly can. I want every last minute with my mom. I intend to treasure every moment. I intend for us to laugh and cry. I intend for my mom to LIVE every last day she has.

And I intend to find my mom in every last little good-bye.