Day 42: Four Decades

The calendar tells me that I'm forty today.

My mom doesn't remember that fact.

That's hard.

This is it. This is all I get. 4 decades with my mom. I know others have less. But it just doesn't seem like enough.

This morning I was at the birth of a beautiful baby girl, born on my birthday, about 2 and 1/2 hours before sunrise. When I left that birth, the birds were chirping the dawn of a beautiful day. I had some wonderful moments today. So many friends and family members remembered my birthday. Some went out of their way to make the day extra special for me. That meant a lot to me. I had some special moments with my boys. Especially Christopher. He went out of his way to make me feel special today. He even danced with me this morning to Abba's "Dancing Queen". It was the cutest birthday present ever. He made me smile and laugh.

And then, sleep deprived, but on a birthday high, we headed up to spend a few hours with mom and dad. I knew this was my last birthday with my mom. I guess I thought she'd understand that too. But I'm not really even sure she knew it was my birthday most the time I was there. I brought cupcakes and she ate two of them which was great. But I don't think she understood why I made them. She looks so much better. She is up and about more. But my mom is not inside that body anymore. So much of who she was is gone. Her mind just isn't there anymore.

So, I spent my time up there like I normally do...making phone calls, talking to the hospice nurse, getting medications straightened out, cleaning the bathroom, arranging for care for mom so dad could go to his Kiwanis meeting tomorrow. I do all of this willingly and I am glad I can do it. But I can't say there wasn't a part of me that really wanted to "celebrate" my birthday with my mom. I bought her a card and wrote quite a bit inside of it, thanking her for giving me life and for sacrificing for me. I never gave it to her. I don't think it would have made sense to her. And so, the card remains sealed in my purse, most likely forever.

And right now, I am sleep deprived and extra emotional I suppose. But I am so angry and so sad. I will hold on to the little moments today. But overall, this is probably the toughest birthday I have ever had. 6 months ago, I was planning a big celebration for my 40th. I was excited to turn 40. I was looking forward to it. And today, I'm 40. And there was no celebrating. There was, and still is, a lot of pain.

I hurt so much.

My mom is already gone. I will never have another conversation with her about nothing in general...just to talk. I will never hear her laugh again. I will never be able to seek her advice again. I will never have her hug me again in the way only a mom hugs her child.

She is gone. Now it is simply a waiting game for her body to join in. Now, it is simply about keeping her comfortable as the cancer continues to take over.

Today I had to face that the mom I knew is gone.

Today I looked into her eyes and they weren't the eyes that have looked back at me my entire life.

Today I looked at my dad and saw his pain. It is becoming very visible. He is so worried about mom. He's losing weight. I want to protect him. But I can't protect him anymore than he can protect me from the pain that keeps coming and coming.

I'm forty today. But I feel like I'm 10. And I'm scared and I want my mom to wrap me in her arms and tell me it's going to be okay. But my mom is gone. And it's not going to be okay. And the 10 year old girl and the 40 year old woman in me misses my mom so much.

Day 41: The world keeps rotating

It's strange living in this alternate universe that I live in...the one where everything in my world has stopped as I deal with the inevitable death of my mom. My alternate universe truly exists for me. Everything is different. Everything has changed.

But the rest of the world keeps turning and I have to somehow incorporate my alternate universe into that world as well. Bills need to be paid. The house needs to be cleaned. Work needs to get done.

Today was one of the days to try to get some of that stuff done. And I got some things done that needed to be taken care of before month end.

And that's all good because tomorrow, if I'm not at a birth, I intend to spend the day with my mom and dad. I turn 40 tomorrow. 42 days after I found out my mom had cancer. If you had asked me at the beginning of the year about my birthday I would have told you I was so excited for 40. I was looking forward to my birthday and turning 40. Nothing about 40 bothered me. It still doesn't. But I have no desire to really celebrate my birthday anymore. I have no desire to do anything for me, although maybe I should. But I just want to spend the day with my parents. I know this is the last birthday I will have with my mom and so I want to make sure I spend it with her. That's all I want for my birthday. If I happen to be at a birth then I'll go up Friday. I just want to thank my mom for giving me life and celebrate her more than me tomorrow.

I did talk to dad this morning and he told me that mom was enjoying some tomato soup. And really ENJOYING it. He put her on the phone and she sounded better than I've heard in a long time. Most likely because she actually was enjoying something for the first time in a long time. That made me happy. I'll take the small joys along this dark path. I keep hoping that she'll start enjoying more and more things so she has many of these small joys before she dies.

Tonight I head back out to teach...because the world keeps turning. I know it's good for me to do it. And once I'm there I enjoy it. It's just such work getting my brain to switch out of my alternate universe back into the real one every now and then. But I manage to keep doing it. I guess that's a good thing too.

Today is the last day of my 30s. I wonder what my mom was doing the last day of her 30s. She had two small children. Gosh, we would have been like 7 & 3. Any of you out there know what mom did for her 40th birthday? Anything? I'm honestly loving hearing stories that I've never heard about mom and dad before. She didn't know at the time that she only had a couple of years left with her own mom. I wonder what she would have done differently if she had been given the time I have been given with her.

I may have to ask her some of those questions tomorrow. But mostly I want her to know how much I appreciate the life she gave to me. And how much I love her. I've always thought we should celebrate our mothers on our birthdays. Without them, we wouldn't have a birthday. So, tomorrow I celebrate my mom and the gift of life she gave to me 40 years ago. And all the sacrifices she made for me along the way.

Day 40: Circle of Life

Very quick blog post tonight.

I left at 5am to a birth this morning. At 4:32pm this afternoon a beautiful baby boy was born into the world. It was a miracle. No matter how many times I see it, it's a miracle.

A new life came into the world today.

And my mom is dying.

Michael and Kiersten visited mom and dad today. They said mom is depressed and dad is incredibly tired.

And as I sat in a birth room as a new baby was being welcomed into the world by his parents, I felt so sad and lost inside and yet so happy for this family.

And the tears fell. Tears of sadness. Tears of joy. Intermixed.

It was a day of contrast. I felt so in touch with the world and so alone at the same time.

I laughed a lot today. And I cried a lot today.

A baby is born.

My mom is dying.

I'm living it all.

And the world keeps turning.

I'm not sure how I keep moving forward.

But I do.

Day 39: Welcome back exhaustion...

Well, I guess one day is better than none. The exhaustion is back today and bigger and better than before. :-O

I think a good portion of my exhaustion comes from my commute. I have never been a fan of driving in heavy traffic and have done it a LOT in the past couple of weeks. I tend to drive very white knuckled and shoulders all tensed up. I suppose adding that on top of a body that is already pretty emotionally wiped out is a good recipe for exhaustion.

I got up this morning more wiped out than I had anticipated after a good day yesterday. But I was determined to work out and I did. It felt good. Then things just got crazy from there.

I got ready for my day and called dad to find out how things were going with mom. They were trying to figure out when they could get mom's stomach drained. There was some confusion with Hospice and so I just decided to call them and see what I could figure out. They have always been incredibly helpful and told me that they would get back to dad before 1:30pm (it was about 11:15am at this point). I kind of thought that mom's stomach wouldn't be able to be drained today, but was hoping something would change.

Well, about 25 minutes later, dad called to tell me that mom had an appointment at 1pm for some blood work and at 2:15 to have her stomach drained. I told him that I'd head up there and hopefully make it by 1pm.

I got the boys in the car and threw in some snacks since I hadn't fed them lunch yet and we headed up north. I arrived at the hospital at 1pm, but after parking and making our way from the parking garage it was about 1:10pm before we made it to Radiology. Mom and dad were still in the waiting area. Turns out mom didn't need the blood work (I was a little confused on that anyway) so we all got there early for no reason. But the admitting people did say that they thought mom might be able to get in before 2:15pm.

I don't remember what time they called her back, but it was before 2:15. Dad stayed in the waiting area with my boys and I headed back with mom. She was using her walker to get around but doing just fine with it.

The procedure started quickly, although, against mom's wishes, I did ask them to take her blood pressure. Mom was not pleased with me because she didn't want to be limited on how much fluid could be drained. But I didn't want her to have to be admitted to the hospital again either. I didn't think her blood pressure was going to be a problem, but I knew I had to ask because if something had happened, I would have never forgiven myself.

As it turns out, mom's blood pressure is back up. Her first reading was something like 192/106. A far cry from 49/27! So, we all agreed that draining her fluid might just help with bringing down her blood pressure too!

The procedure started as usual and the deal was to just let her stomach drain as much as it wanted to. Turns out today it REALLY wanted to drain and mom had 6 liters removed from her abdomen. Can you even imagine someone taking out 6 liters from your abdomen?! That's the most I've seen them remove thus far. And actually the physicians assistant decided to stop at 6 just because that was a lot of fluid to remove. They probably could have gotten more. Mom looked tiny when she was done. Her last blood pressure reading was lower but not by much. This whole situation has been so interesting with the way her blood pressure and blood sugars have gone up and down.

After the procedure was done, we had mom walk out with her walker but she wasn't very stable and so we ended up having her sit in a wheel chair just to let her body adjust for a bit. We met dad and the boys in the waiting area and dad went out to get the car while the boys and I waited with mom. About 10 minutes later, I wheeled mom out to the car and mom and dad were on their way home.

I took the boys to the cafeteria and got them lunch and then we headed back home during rush hour traffic, but thankfully didn't hit too much heavy traffic that held us back.

I called dad when I got home around 5pm and he said that he and mom had stopped at the grocery store because mom thought hot dogs sounded good. So, they picked up some hot dogs and Pepsi. When they got home mom brought in the hot dogs and dad brought in the Pepsi. Then they were getting ready to cook up the hot dogs and couldn't find them. It was so funny to hear dad explain all the places they looked like the bathroom cabinets and dresser drawers. I just pictured them looking everywhere for these hot dogs. They finally gave up and mom decided to have some soup. A few minutes later dad went into the fridge to get something and found the hot dogs behind a jar of juice. Apparently mom had put them behind the juice and neither of them could see them when they looked in the fridge. Not having any short term memory can be a big issue in situations like this. ;-) Anyway, we all got a good laugh out of it and hopefully will mom will still get a chance to enjoy a hot dog. I was just so glad that it sounded good to her. All she had eaten today had been raisins and half a Dove bar.

But the best news is that mom told dad that she felt better today than she has felt in the past 5 weeks. That was really wonderful to hear. And I just wish there was a way she could always feel like that. Hospice is still looking into the possibility of getting a permanent catheter put in mom's stomach so it can just be drained as needed at home. That would be a good thing so mom and dad wouldn't have to be going to the hospital all the time, but I suppose we don't want it to be too cumbersome right now either when mom is still able to get up and down and do some things on her own. So, we'll just see how that goes. If nothing else, I think we will make weekly appointments so she always knows it will be drained.

I could tell how much better she felt when we were leaving and it just felt good to see her smile. I hate watching her suffer. And although the trips up there are exhausting, I wouldn't have missed it today. I hope that God will continue to let my work schedule fall in between times that mom has these procedures so I can always be there.

I've also been receiving some very special e-mails from people about my mom. I'm hearing stories about my mom both as a kid and as an adult. I'm hearing stories about both my mom and dad. Stories that I've never heard before. These e-mails have been incredible gifts to me and, although I wish none of this was happening, I do truly treasure these stories and I hope they keep coming.

I am finding small gifts like these to be pieces that help me through my days and I treasure them. And I thank all of you who have been sending them.

And another thank you to all my incredible friends who have been continuing to check in on me and sending me their love and support.

This is truly the hardest time of my life. And yet, it is the time when I feel most surrounded by a lot of loving arms too. For that I am incredibly grateful. For as exhausted as I feel, all of you are holding me up and helping me through each day. I know of no other way to thank you than to simply say "Thank You" from the bottom of my heart. I will never be able to express what all of you have meant to me.

So, although it was busy, today was a good day, and I'll always take a good day like this...even with the exhaustion. :-)

Day 38: Down Time

Wow...it's amazing what a difference a little down time can make to help a body rejuvenate!

I had a consult appt this morning at 11am. I woke up tired and groggy just like every day. Even though it was later than usual this morning. Olly gave me a nice back rub to ease up some of the tension in my shoulders and back muscles. That helped a lot!

The consult was great and I was hired by the couple I met with. That books me up through July.

Then Olly and I spent the rest of the afternoon running some errands that were long overdue. We went to Home Depot and picked up a storage closet for the boys' room to help get Bionicles and Legos off their floor. We stopped at the grocery store to stock up on food for the week. We swung by Target looking for heated booties for my mom's cold feet - no luck there...but I did pick up a new t-shirt that I needed for births. And then we went out to lunch at my favorite pizza place that we haven't been to in a very long time. We played a game of pool, had pizza and I even splurged on a root beer instead of my normal water. Happy early birthday to me. ;-) Then we stopped in next door to a coffee shop that I've always wanted to try. It was well worth it! Then a quick stop at the mall to return some clothes and back home. We caught up on Grey's Anatomy and then the boys came home and my life felt semi-normal again for the first time in a long time.

I don't feel the exhaustion I have felt for the past several weeks. I almost feel normal. Of course, talking to dad tonight and getting the reminder that mom is still declining was hard as usual. But my eyes aren't burning. I don't feel like I'm going to drop at any minute. This time last week I was in my mom's hospital room trying to get her oriented to being on a new floor. I didn't drive home until after Midnight. Tonight I'll get to bed at a normal hour. I hope to get up and work out tomorrow for the first time in a week as well.

Of course, I'm waiting to see when mom is going to get her stomach drained again this week. It sounds like it needs to be soon. If it's tomorrow, I'll go up tomorrow, but if it's Tuesday I'll go up then. I intend to spend my birthday up there on Thursday as well. Of course, I know that everything can change in a blink of an eye and I'm keeping my mind open to that as well. I still have two clients due and that will change things quickly too.

But for this particular moment, I almost feel like myself. That doesn't mean I haven't had a couple of moments of tears today. But that's almost part of normal for me these days. I feel more like myself and more connected to the world than I have in well over a week. And that feels good. It's good to know that these times will happen in between the stress and pain that is still continuing. Knowing I can sometimes find this place again will be good for me.

I feel all the good thoughts and prayers that are coming my way. And they are helping. Especially today. So, thank you to all of you who are out there thinking and praying for me and my family. I appreciate it so very much and love you all!

On to another week...on to day 38...on to another hour...another minute...another moment...that's all I can really ask for right now. For this moment, I feel like I can do anything again. That feels good. Maybe when I'm falling apart I can read this and remember that at some point I will feel good again. Or some of you can remind me...:-)

Day 37: Tears, Exhaustion, Sadness

I'm tired. It's 10pm and I just got home from another day up at mom and dads. Got there around Noon. Olly came with me today. I'm so glad he did. I really needed him today.
We had an accident happen right in front of us on 405 on our way up. Scared the crap out of me.

I was able to pick up mom's hospice prescriptions for dad today and we also went to the store and loaded mom up on various soups because she said it sounded okay. She ate a half a cup of split pea soup while we were there. That was good. She said she knows she's getting weak and needs to eat more. I guess it's good she knows that too.

Kristi came to visit today. The visits are hard for everyone. We all know we're saying good-bye. But we had some laughter too. Kristi brought a bottle of wine and mom drank a little tiny bit.

But today was hard in general. Each trip seems to be getting harder. Each time I feel like we're saying more and more good-byes. Sometimes without words. It just all seems too close.

Mom is so tired. She mentioned today that she's tired of feeling this way. I just want something to change for her. I want her to have a good day. A day that she feels like she's living.

She looked at me later in the afternoon today when there was a discussion about my upcoming birthday. I could see the confusion on her face. She said, "Your birthday is coming up isn't it?" I said yes and then asked her if she knew when my birthday was. She thought and thought and then asked dad what day it was today. He told her it was the 25th and she said that it had to be soon. I said yes it was. I asked her if she knew how many days there were in April and she thought some more and said tentatively, "30?". I said yes and then asked her if she knew when my birthday was. After much more thought she said, "Well, then, is it the 30th?" And I said yes it was. She came up with it. But she doesn't really remember it. That was another little stab in the gut.

Finally she decided to try to go sleep. She had been sitting in the wheelchair as it seemed like the most comfortable place for her. Olly wheeled her into the bedroom and then I helped her into bed and covered her up. I told her I loved her. She told me she loved me too. I put some things away and then walked around the bed and asked her if she was okay with me leaving. She said, "You've already done so much, you need to go." And I just stood there and stared at her trying to hold back the tears. She said, "Don't cry" and then the waterworks started. I came around the bed and we grabbed each other's hands and she said, "I'm not even going to be able to do anything for your birthday." She was crying, I was crying. I told her that she GAVE me my birthday and that's all she needed to do. She said, "You've been so good to me and I was never good to you." I told her that if she was the kind of mother she seems to think she was that I wouldn't be here. I told her that I didn't want to hear that from her. I told her I loved her so very much and she told me she loved me too. And then we just held hands and cried a little together.

I can't let my mom die thinking she was a bad mom. I just can't. I've never thought she was a bad mom. Ever. She was a mom without her own mother. And even when her mother was around, she never had a very loving relationship with her. When I look at all my mom went through, I know she did the absolute best she could. There are bad mothers out there. My mom isn't, and never has been, one of them. She gave me everything she possibly could. I don't want her dying thinking she didn't. I need to make sure she knows that I know the amazing person that she is and that I'm glad she is my mom.

I can't go up tomorrow. I have to be here tomorrow. I don't know how much I can go up this week with my clients' due and my work schedule. But I have to get up there as much as possible. I just don't want to have to work. I just wish I could take the next few weeks or months off and just be with my mom. And I'm so angry that I can't do that. I don't know how to keep working and losing my mom at the same time. But I'm a single mom. I've managed to work out a life where I'm supporting my kids. But it's a life with no sick pay and no vacation pay. If I miss a birth or miss a class I'm in financial trouble. And I want and need to be there for my clients. But I want and need to be there for my mom and dad too. It's a constant tug of war for me. I have to believe that God has a plan here. Even though, so far, I hate every ounce of it.

My body is wiped out. I am physically exhausted now. I need a way to rejuvenate. But I also feel like if I miss a day with my mom, it could be the last day I have. It's a constant struggle.

And I'm still so worried about my dad. He's so tired too.

This is all so hard. My exhaustion is so large and so real. And yet, I'm terrified to stop moving for fear that the adrenalin with stop and I won't be able to move.

My heart feels like it's breaking into little tiny pieces. I have never felt pain like this in my life. I didn't even know you could feel pain like this. Of course, I know I'm not the first one to ever feel it. Of course I knew I would feel it some day. But I just never could have imagined how it would feel. How much it would hurt. How at times, I feel like it's taking my breath away. Like little bits of me are dying right along with mom.

The days just keep getting harder. The exhaustion just keeps getting bigger. The tears come down in bigger waterfalls.

And I'm still so scared and so far from being ready for what is coming.

Day 36: Reality

Today was a hard day. The boys and I headed up to see mom and dad. We arrived around 12:30pm. Mom was sleeping. Dad had made it out to his Kiwanis meeting this morning which was good. He told me that he told mom not to get out of bed, but she managed to make her way into the kitchen at one point to get something. I guess it's good that she could do it, but I don't want her to be so stubborn that she ends up falling one of these days.

She is still sleeping in her own bed. She refuses to sleep in the hospital bed. That's fine, except that she's doing more tossing and turning now so dad isn't getting a good night's sleep. That concerns me.

I spent some time going through all the paperwork that the long term care insurance company had sent dad. I completed it all, we got copies of mom's Power of Attorney to attach to it and we sent it all back. I made several phone calls to hospice and pharmacies as well trying to get mom's medication all filled. Apparently there is a shortage of Morphine in the country right now. Interesting.

Around 2:30pm, the gal from hospice showed up. She's kind of the caretaker person. The nurse and social worker came earlier this week. This gal is just there to take care of whatever mom needs to make her feel better. Mom was pretty wiped out when she got there so they didn't spend a lot of time talking, but she will be coming back on Monday and will help mom get in a good shower and maybe give her a foot massage or whatever mom feels she needs.

I read through the hospice notebook that had been left for mom and dad earlier in the week. Between meeting the gal from hospice and reading that notebook, a lot of stuff really started hitting me. There is a whole section on how to tell death is near. When to call family so they can be there. What to do after death. I found myself reading it through tears.

I'm really good at paperwork and making phone calls and talking to people. I can do all of that. I can talk to people about necessary things. But to read all of that today, it just all started hitting me. I know my mom is dying. But we have paperwork at her house now that tells us what signs to look for as death comes near. We have people coming to give her some comfort and peace for whatever time she has left. Mom looked so tired today and she's saying she doesn't want visitors again. I'm not staying away anymore. But I hate that she's pushing others away. People want to say their good-byes.

And then there's dad. He looks so tired. When I talk to him on the phone, he sounds so tired. I told that to Olly last night and he looked at me and said, "So do you". I do? I feel like I sound exactly the same. I know I look more tired and ragged. But I thought I was masking my exhaustion fairly well.

I'm trying to convince dad he needs to take up offers of help from their church and hospice volunteers. He needs to take care of himself too.

Mom received a couple of cards from friends today. One was from a childhood friend who was writing to her with some fun memories of sneaking out and pooling money to buy gas at .30/gallon and then buying and splitting a pack of cigarettes with any money they had left over. Mom doesn't remember any of it. And it just all made me sad.

Today was just so hard. Sitting in the car for about 4 1/2 hours didn't help with the exhaustion (Friday traffic is no fun...even in the carpool lanes)! But I left mom and dad's feeling so sad today. Mom is sleeping away most of her day. That was the first thing on the list of signs that death is coming close.

I'm not ready. But I'm feeling that it's so near.

I'm just not ready. And I'm so scared. My mom isn't in that body that is sleeping in that bed. She's leaving already. And I miss her so much.

I just want to go back to the world I lived in 5 weeks ago. I hate this place I'm in now. I just hate it. Nothing feels normal or right anymore. I'm mad and sad and scared all at once. I'm functioning. I can work. I'm ready to do a birth this weekend if someone goes into labor. But inside...deep inside...I'm not the same person and I know I never will be again.

And that makes me so mad. None of this is fair. My mom is such a good, loving, kind, caring person. Why her? Why? We don't even have any answers about any of this. One day she was fine, the next day she had some elusive cancer and now she is dying. That's it. I just hate it.

Today I felt like someone punched me in the gut again. Just like I felt 5 weeks ago when I got the phone call from my mom and dad. Maybe it's because I'm running out of things to do. The paperwork is dwindling. Mom is home and now it feels like we're just waiting for death to knock on the door. And I just want to hold the door shut. I want more time.

I'm not ready. I know I never will be. And I have no choice to face what is happening. But I hate it. I simply hate it. And I don't know how to stop hating it. I don't know how to stop feeling this way. The pain is so enormous. It's bubbling up. I'm holding it down for as long as I can. But it's coming and I can't stop it.

And I'm just not ready.

Day 35: More life lessons

How are you today? That's a question we all get on a daily basis when we're out and about. The cashier at the grocery store, the barista at the coffee shop, the mailman, the customer service person on the phone, etc...

What I have found over the past 5 weeks is that I no longer hear that question the same way. The reality is that most the people who ask you that question really don't want an answer. They expect you to say "I'm fine, how are you?" and then they give the standard, "I'm fine too" response or something like that. I understand it's a polite question. But so few of us really want a true answer when asking that question. I'd say that I've certainly been guilty of that myself in the past.

However, when people ask me that question now, I don't want to answer that I'm fine...because I'm not. I'm so far from fine or good that answering the question with a word like that just seems impossible. I've started answering that I'm "Okay". Because I guess I am. I'm getting up every morning. I'm going about my life. I'm okay.

Most of the time the response to that answer is the same response as if I'd said I was doing great. People don't really hear the answer. But I have had a couple of people say "Just okay?" and then I find myself saying, "Yeah...you don't really want to know the rest."

Our society is so strange. We're all so busy. We don't have time for personal interaction anymore. But we also have no ability to handle talking to people about tough subjects. We don't know how to respond if someone says, "I'm not too good today...I've been at the hospital all day with my mom." We say "I'm sorry", but then we turn away because we don't know what else to say.

As I've been dealing with these things for the past 5 weeks, I've started wondering what everyone is going through. At various times in our lives, we all go through tough times. I am, by no means, the only person who is losing her mother right now.

What is the cashier at the grocery store going through? The barista at the coffee shop? The mailman? The customer service person? They are all doing exactly what I am doing...going through the steps of their lives, but who knows what is really going on in their lives.

I will never again ask someone how they are doing and ignore, or not really hear, the answer. The few people who have asked questions and really wanted to know more about what I was going through have touched my heart. Complete strangers who made an effort to connect with another human being. Those moments will stay with me forever.

Life is not always easy. It is quite often a struggle. We all experience it. This entire life experience I'm going through now has taught me that there is always enough time to connect with another human being. That just a minute of our time can make a deep impact on someone.

So, off I go to teach class tonight. And tonight I will try not to do it as absently as I have felt lately. I will work harder to connect with each person in my class. I used to do that all the time, but have noticed in the last several weeks that I've been on autopilot more than I'd like to be.

And when I stop to get a coffee tonight, I'll ask the barista how he or she is doing...and I'll wait to hear the answer and provide a genuine response.

Life is too short to ignore anything or anyone.

And just a quick note on mom...I talked to dad last night and they had a good first night alone. I'll call again later tonight to see how the day went. I'm a little concerned about dad wearing himself out, but we'll take it one day at a time. I'm planning a trip up there tomorrow for a little bit and will probably go up again this weekend depending on how my clients are doing. I'm just still so grateful that she is home. I'd say I worry less, but I don't think I do. I wake up so exhausted every morning. I don't think I'm getting a restful night of sleep, but I'm so much more comfortable with her at home than at the hospital and that's a good thing! I'll take good things however I can get them. :-)

Day 34: Settling In

I got up much earlier than my body wanted me to this morning, but I wanted to make it up to mom and dad's to meet with the hospice people if at all possible. Unfortunately, they called mom and dad at 9:00am to say they'd be there by 10:00am and I wouldn't make that, so the boys and I stayed home today.

But that doesn't mean it was a boring day.

First of all...dad let me know that mom slept all night last night which was great news. In her own bed! Not the hospital bed. Even better! The aide they had overnight must not have had to do much. They had a new aide arrive at 8am this morning and she really seemed to help out today. She was doing laundry and made mom a milkshake mixed with a little Ensure for added protein and mom got the entire thing down. Mom also got in a shower, although apparently lost most of the rest of her hair while in there.

But overall, things have been pretty positive since she's been home. So positive that dad feels like they're good on their own for a while. So, tonight mom and dad will be alone together in their own home for the first time since last Friday.

I spent most of the morning trying to figure out what I used to do with my day. I have been driving back and forth to Everett and Arlington for the past 5 days. Everything here has kind of fallen to the wayside. I have bills to pay and laundry to do and dishes to do and a house to clean and yet, today I had no energy to do much of any of it. I found myself just feeling kind of lost.

The boys and I did make it to the library to return all their books that were due today and stocked up on some new books. And this afternoon, I called one of mom and dad's friends to update them on mom's status. I also called mom and dad's church. I got through half my introduction and the woman on the phone, Gail, said, "Oh I'm so glad to hear from you!" Apparently they have been wondering how mom was doing and wanting to know how they could help. Gail listened to mom's status and basically just said, "Tell us what we can do." So, the church will make sure both mom and dad have communion each week. They are also going to be sending over meals...mostly for dad as mom won't each much...but it will be great for dad to have a home cooked meal. Gail said that they had asked mom and dad a couple of weeks ago if they could do this for them and mom and dad told them no. I said to Gail, "Well, I'm telling you yes." And she said that's all she needed! She told me to call them and update them whenever I could and that I was welcome to call if any of us needed anything, including just needing someone to cry with. She took both my and Michael's names. I am assuming to add to their prayer list. For someone who gave up on organized religion many years ago, it really touched my heart and gave me pause.

I also heard from a nurse tied into dad's Long Term Care Insurance. She was so very nice and incredibly sympathetic to our situation. She said she would get everything expedited for us so when dad does need extra help, he will have it covered through the insurance.

My goal for the rest of the week is to write a thank you note to the hospital, mentioning each nurse that worked with mom by name. I want to make sure they are all recognized for the care they gave to mom. I may have a birth to attend before week's end as well. So I'm trying to leave my goals sort of open ended just in case. I've got two clients due right now and it would be good to get one of the births done so I feel a little more comfortable with being further away with mom and dad now and then.

Although I'm exhausted and the idea of a birth seems tough on my body right now. I think it would be good for my soul, so I'm hoping it does happen soon.

I noticed that yesterday I didn't cry at all. I had the boys with me and that seemed to keep me focused. Today was okay too until I ran a quick errand this afternoon by myself. As soon as I pulled the car out of the driveway, it all hit. That sobbing cry that comes from deep down. I still find it so interesting when it hits like that out of nowhere. I'm very intrigued with our brains as of late. How pain can just bubble up like that out of nowhere and our brain can manage to push it back down and keep it together when necessary. We are complicated creatures.

I continue to be so touched by the love and care so many people have shown to me and my family. From family and friends to complete strangers. It's been an incredible experience. As someone who doesn't ask for help, it has been humbling to have people just help without being asked. It means so much. I'm learning a lot of life lessons throughout all of this. And I certainly have had a restoration of my faith in humanity.

This experience is transforming me. It's almost as though I can feel the transformation. I can feel it physically, emotionally, spiritually. I know I'll never be the same woman I was 5 weeks ago. And I'm good with that. I would never in a million years want to be going through what I'm going through. I would never have asked for this. I don't want it. I hate it actually. But the lessons I'm learning are powerful and mostly positive and I can't really argue with that part of it.

The circle of life. I feel it daily. My mom is dying. I work in birth every day. 40 years ago my mom was preparing to give birth to me. Somehow the celebration of my birth takes on a new meaning for me this year. It's more of a celebration of the woman who gave me life than it is about my own life for me this year. 15 years ago, my last remaining grandparent (my paternal grandmother) was buried on my birthday. I remember thinking about the whole circle of life in a big way back then too. What a journey it has been in those 15 years and I could never have imagined what I'd be going through on my 40th. But this year I celebrate mom. She will most likely not see my 41st birthday so I want to spend this one with her. Mobile or not. Lucid or not. Happy or sad. I just want to be with her. To say thank you for giving me my life. To thank her for all the sacrifices she made for me in her life. Without her, I wouldn't be here to experience this rollercoaster of a life I have had. Without her, I wouldn't have these amazing children I have.

This year we celebrate the circle of life as it plays out in our family in very large ways. Right now it is powerful. It is scary. It is sad. And at the same time, there is so much beauty in this circle to be celebrated.

Day 33: Home

My mom is home.

She walked into her own house, with just a little help from dad, for the first time since Friday. It was SO good to see her there.

The day started by me calling in to Michelle this morning at 6:30am to see how mom had been overnight. I was so pleased to hear that mom had actually slept most the night. That was really fantastic news!

The boys and I made our trek up to the hospital, arriving around 10:30am. Dad informed me that mom's home supplies (hospital bed, etc) were to arrive at their house between 1:00 - 3:00pm. So, shortly after Noon, the boys and I headed up to mom and dad's with a stop at Safeway to pick up some sherbet for mom. We arrived at their house right at 1:00pm. I moved furniture to make room for the hospital bed. I vacuumed. I cleaned out the fridge. I ran the and cleaned out the dishwasher. I called dad at 2pm to let him know that I hadn't seen anyone yet. He asked me if I could pull out his Long Term Care Insurance policy and see if I could start making some phone calls.

I spent the next hour on the phone with the insurance company. It sounds terrible, but it was actually a really great thing. The insurance company was incredibly helpful and I found out that dad's insurance covers $216/day in home health care with NO waiting period. This was incredible news because dad paid for 48 hours of home health care starting at 8pm tonight. He will get a good portion of that money reimbursed AND, we now know that if mom needs additional help (we're thinking mostly at night if she isn't lucid), then dad can have a night nurse (or even a friend or neighbor) every night if needed. This was a huge relief for dad and Michael and I. The insurance company got everything set up and started. And I'm convinced I will need to look into Long Term Care Insurance for myself (but get a GOOD policy like dads!).

Finally, shortly after 3pm, the supplies showed up. The delivery guy set everything up, showed me how to work it all and I called dad and the hospital to let them know everything was there and about 15 minutes later mom was finally discharged from the hospital!

About a half hour later, as I said, mom walked in with just a little support from dad. It was the greatest feeling to see her come in, sit down in her own chair and have a little ice cream and talk to us all a bit. She ultimately went into her own bed and took a nap. Honestly, if she never wants to use the hospital bed, I'm good with that! But I suspect she will get quite a bit of use out of it over time.

I made sure dad was comfortable with being alone with mom for a couple of hours and then the boys and I headed home around 6pm. We got home around 7:30pm. It's the first night I've come home and felt okay with it. Leaving her at the hospital was terrible. I hated it so much. But tonight she is in her own home. And dad has help if he needs it. And I feel like it's the first night I might actually get some decent sleep in many days.

My hope is that mom never has to go back to the hospital again...although she might need to have her stomach drained again, but if that happens it should just be a quick procedure and then back home.

Hospice makes their first visit tomorrow. If it's late enough, I'm going to drive up for it. Otherwise, I'll just plan to make the next one. I called in someone to work for me tonight because I just wasn't going to make it back in time. Missing work doesn't help my financial picture (since there's no sick pay in Childbirth Education...;-)), but I just have to believe that all is going to work out. I anticipate that I may miss a few more classes along this path but that just is what it is. Mom comes first. Everything else just has to fall into place. If nothing else, I'm really learning to just let things be as they will be. I'm learning to let go a little more. And there's nothing wrong with those life lessons.

So for today, I'm trying not to think about why there is a hospital bed in my mom and dad's living room. Or why I looked through their wills tonight. Or why I spent an hour with the Long Term Care Insurance company. Or why hospice is visiting my mom tomorrow.

Today, I am just simply intending to be happy that my mom is home. 5 nights ago, right now, I was sitting in an ER with her. Tonight she is home. That is good. And I will revel in the small good things along this path of big bad things.

Once again, thank you to all of you have contacted myself, Michael and mom and dad. Your cards, e-mails, texts, calls, prayers and good thoughts have meant, and continue to mean, so very much to all of us. I'm hoping mom will be up for visitors in the next couple of days so that those of you who have expressed a desire to come by can do so! Please keep those thoughts and prayers coming. They helped get mom home. They will help us as we continue down the rest of this path too!

Day 32: Quick update

Just talked to mom's night nurse, Michelle (same as last night). Mom is starting to get confused. If you are reading this tonight, please pray for her to stay as lucid as possible. I hate that her mind goes somewhere else every night. And it seems like such a scary place. And I can't be there.

I'll just say it again...this is the hardest thing I have ever done in my life...

But for now, I'm off to bed to try and send calming vibes to mom somehow and hope that we can all get some rest before a busy day tomorrow.

Day 32: Memories

The brain is an interesting thing.

Without it, we don't function. But sometimes, even with it, functioning is difficult.

What makes it misfire?

What makes it possible for a woman to forget the names of her children?

What makes it take a person to another world that seems absolutely real, but does not actually exist?

I questioned all of this and more today.

Let's take a step back though...to Sunday. Yesterday was a long day. I had intended to go up early and get home early for a full night's sleep. But that's not how the day played out. When I arrived early Sunday morning, Mom's new nurse, David, told me that my mom was very confused. She got very angry overnight and when I got into her room, she was completely wiped out. After a little while, she opened her eyes and looked at me. I said Hi and she looked at me and shrugged her shoulders like she wasn't sure what was going on.

She became progressively more lucid over the course of the day and she and dad and I had a nice visit with Aunt Judy, Uncle Charlie and Aunt Marlene. There were tears but lots of laughter too.

Then dad and I spent the rest of the afternoon waiting to hear when mom would be moved. She was no longer needing the CCU floor. She was maintaining her blood pressure and was off all her medication. This was all a good sign. But mom's confusion was troubling. She told me that "That was quite a storm last night", when in reality it has been sunny and dry here for several days. I even confirmed with the staff that there hadn't been some sort of fluke storm. But mom really believed she saw the lightning and heard the thunder.

Finally at 7pm, mom was moved up to the 7th floor. The move made her very nervous and she got scared and confused again. After we got settled into her shared room, she was still asking a lot of questions as to why she was here. I finally convinced dad to go home around 8:30pm and then I spent time talking to her nurses and trying to figure out how long I could stay before driving home. I was without childcare in the morning so I knew I was going to need to drive home at some point. I was either going to do it soon or at 4am. I thought that if I could get some sleep in the nice big recliner chair the staff brought for me, I could leave at 4am. But it became quickly apparent that sleep was not going to be had.

I talked to mom's overnight nurse, Michelle, and she was fantastic and listened to all my concerns and even got an alarm for mom's bed so if mom did try to get up overnight, the staff would know it. She was in a room almost directly across from a nurses station so they could see right into her room. Mom's roommate, Beverly, also offered to push her nurse call button whenever mom needed anything.

So, finally, reluctantly, I left at 12:30am.

Me on the road, in the dark, pretty much one of very few cars...it was a long drive full of tears.

At 6:30am this morning I called Michelle and she told me that mom did okay last night but did get pretty confused. Shortly afterwards, I received a call from mom's day nurse, Nancy (ironically) who was concerned because mom was trying to rip out her IV and foley catheter and saying she wanted to go home. I called dad because I couldn't leave yet and he headed over to the hospital and got there about 8:30am. He called me shortly thereafter and was very concerned about mom. He couldn't get her to eat or understand where she was.

I headed north at 9:30am. Thanks to Mary and Julie for watching the boys to allow me to go up today. It was our scheduled day to go up to talk to mom's oncologist to stop the chemo. Obviously much had changed and the appt wasn't needed anymore. But today had instead turned into the day we would meet with hospice.

When I arrived at the hospital shortly after 11am, I found mom to be out cold. She looked worse than yesterday morning. Dad said the staff was really happy to see him when he arrived.

As the day went on, mom perked up a little. By about 12:30pm, Michael had arrived and he and dad and I went into the waiting area to sit with Eileen from Hospice. She was wonderful and made us all feel pretty at ease. But it was not an easy conversation to have. The good news was that mom was going to be able to be discharged on Tuesday. The bad news was that dad was on his own for a couple of days. So, it was decided to work with a group that had CNAs and RNCs to provide continuous assistance for mom for the first 48 hours home. That made us all feel a little more comfortable as mom was certainly not ambulatory and Michael and I were both worried about dad taking care of mom and getting her up and down, etc.

So, it was decided that mom would have a hospital bed with an air mattress to help with areas of pressure changing to help reduce the change of bed sores (of which she is developing one), a mobile toilet, a walker, and a wheelchair delivered Tuesday morning and mom would be discharged Tuesday afternoon.

Once that decision was made, we started receiving lots of visitors from Hospice. The balls were really rolling.

Aunt Linda and Uncle Bill also came about this same time and mom was fairly lucid and able to talk to them. Uncle Bill massaged mom's feet and she really liked that! Thanks Uncle Bill! :-)

We heard from the Hospice doctor and social worker who asked lots of question and made sure we had all the info we needed. The hospital Priest came and gave mom the Sacrament of the Sick. We were also honored with a beautiful harp player who came in and played the harp for mom. It was incredible. And then we received a complimentary copy of her cd. It is so beautiful!

Mom and I had some time together when Michael and dad went down to eat in the cafeteria. During this time, she looked at me and said, "I wanted to talk to you about why you tricked me last night". I looked at her and asked her what she meant. She said something about me getting her in a car and then taking her to a different place, to a motel, where we watched a magic show. I couldn't convince her that this didn't happen. She was, and still is, absolutely certain that it took place. Her roommate said that she was having lots of hallucinations overnight.

Over the course of the past few days, I've noticed that she can't always come up with my or Michael's name either. That's a tough one to swallow. I wonder where she is sometimes. I know she is physically in the room with me, but her mind is somewhere else completely. Her short term memory is almost non-existent.

But yet, when the Priest came to bless her, she and he got to talking about the hospital in Yakima where mom didn't her student nursing. He described the building and she nodded knowingly and added a few things. She remembered that perfectly from back in the mid 50s. But had moments when she couldn't remember my name.

I don't take it personally. I knows she knows who I am. She and dad have both said out loud to many people how much they have appreciated me during this entire process. I know she loves me. But I also can't say that it isn't hard to watch my mom struggle to come up with my name.

However, on the upside, after mom was told she was going home tomorrow her spirit really changed. She actually said she wanted to sit in a chair. That was a first since we checked into the hospital. So, she sat in the nice big chair in her room (with assistance from her nurse to get there) for the first time. And then, not long after, she walked with support of her IV pole, one lap around the 7th floor. It was absolutely incredible to watch her. She was like a different woman. She was motivated and determined. The idea of getting out of that hospital was such a good thought to her, it really changed her. And then, her last IV and her foley catheter were removed and she was in heaven.

It was amazing to think that just a few short days before, I was sitting in the ER with her wondering if she was going to die right there. And now she was free of all the IV medication and we were planning for her to return home.

And yet...she is returning home to die.

That is where she wants to die and we all want to support her in that decision. No matter how much it's hurting us all.

And we're losing bits and pieces of mom along the way. The memory is going. She can tell me about the day I was born, but can't introduce me to someone new. It's an interesting and difficult thing to watch happen.

And so I have to have my own memories. I have to hold on to those. The happy times. My mom when she was strong and healthy.

So, I sit here at 11pm on Monday night. I am staying up blogging so I can stay awake to call the hospital to talk to mom's new night nurse. I want to make sure she's prepared in case mom does try to take off again tonight.

I am SO tired though. We went out to dinner with friends tonight for Olly's birthday. I'm glad we did it, but I have to admit that my head was in Everett a lot. I can't help it.

Since Friday, I have driven up and back to Everett 3 times. I drove up at 5:30pm Friday night, came home Saturday evening. I drove back up early Sunday morning and drove back at 1am this morning. Then turned around and drove back and 9:30am this morning and came home tonight around 5:30pm. Tomorrow I will drive back up again. I'm taking the boys this time. We will help dad take mom home. I don't know what time I'll head back. And then I will probably go back up again Wednesday just to meet the person that is there helping dad. Perhaps I'll take Thursday off since I have to teach that night.

I am amazed that my body is still functioning. I know I am pretty raw. The tears flow easily and heartily. Sobbing tears. Sobs that make it hard to breathe.

Today reality really started to set in. I think tomorrow it will hit even harder when I see a hospital bed in my mom and dad's living room.

Each good-bye continues to get bigger. None of them seem small anymore. They each seem to hold so much more meaning. I suppose every time we say good-bye to anyone, we should assume it could be the last time. But that's not often how we live, until you're in a situation like the one I am in now. Every good-bye does feel like it could be the last one. And it terrifies me.

As I drive home, 65 miles away from my mom, I feel a strong physical separation that hurts a place in my soul that I've never felt before.

I don't know how much time we have left with mom...but I don't think it's much. My brain understands this. My brain can continue to move forward and make necessary decisions. My heart occasionally understands and it breaks a little more each time it has to accept it. But it definitely is still trying to protect itself from breaking into pieces. My soul, on the other hand, still has no way to understand the loss of my mother. It is still not ready. Perhaps it never will be. I'm trying to strengthen myself for what is coming, but I know that no matter when it happens, it will floor me. The reality will be so enormous. My soul isn't ready to go there.

I am raw. I hurt. I believe it is visible on my face that I am suffering. I feel like everyone that looks at me can see it.

Mom goes home tomorrow. There is a strong possibility she will never leave her home again. I am watching Spring come to life as the weather improves. Sunrises and sunsets. Flowers blooming. Birds chirping. Puget Sound glistening. Yesterday I saw a hot air balloon from the hospital window. Today I saw a float plane come in for a landing in Lake Union. And with all of this, and so much more, all I think is, "My mom will never see this again" and that hurts so much. And, at the same time, makes me appreciate it all so much more. I don't ignore these things anymore. I experience them.

I experience life more than I did 32 days ago. I experience it more for both me and my mom. A part of me hopes she can somehow see it through my eyes. And that it goes someplace where her soul remembers it forever. She may not be able to remember my name all the time, but I know our souls are forever joined. Nothing can change this. And so one of the small gifts I have received throughout this journey is the gift to see the world differently. Okay, maybe I am angry at it a lot right now, but I do stop to literally smell the roses now. That is a gift my mom has given me. My hope is that I can share it with her through my heart and my soul as we continue to say our good-byes.

Day 31: Summary

It's 2:36am. I'm beat. I'm home from 16 hours at the hospital. Need to sleep so this is short. Will update more when I can. Mom was transferred out of CCU at 7pm tonight. She's now on the Oncology floor. Hospice will be visiting tomorrow and the current hope is that mom will go home with Hospice on Tuesday.

Please keep us all in your thoughts and prayers. This is truly the hardest thing I've ever done.

Day 30: Update already

So, I could have edited my last post, but decided to just post a separate one. I just spoke to mom's CCU nurse. They are in the process of giving her 2 units of blood. Her stomach is filling again leading the staff to lean towards the idea of mom needing her stomach to be constantly drained with a tube. That can't be done at home. That means mom stays in CCU until the end. I am tired and overwhelmed and am going to try to get a couple of hours of sleep to think more clearly.

Unfortunately, the celebration party may not happen. I wish the circumstances were different...

Day 29 & 30 - Quality vs. Quantity

Where do I even start?

Thursday I was furious. And then I spent quite of bit of time on the phone with dad yesterday and became increasingly concerned about him and about mom's condition. Mom was vomiting a lot. She wasn't eating. Dad was exhausted and I could hear the worry in his voice. He had spoken to their nurse, Kim, at the Cancer Center. She told him that if it got to the point where mom couldn't/wouldn't get out of bed, it was time to call 911.

I had talked to dad around 2pm. We talked for some time and then he had to go quickly because mom was vomiting again. I told him I'd call him back later in the day to see how things were going. In the meantime, I called and talked to Kiersten and my Aunt Judy and my Aunt Linda. I also called and spoke to Kim at the Cancer Center myself to find out when we decided mom needed more help.

Dad called me at 4:55pm. He said he had just talked to Kim again because mom was saying she couldn't breathe and her stomach was bothering her. Kim told him that because it was Friday night at 5pm, they wouldn't be able to get an appointment at the hospital, so she thought it would make the most sense to call 911. I'm not sure why he called me, except looking back, I think he just needed confirmation that he should call 911. He put mom on the phone and her breathing was obviously labored but she said she was trying to just calm down. I told her the medics needed to at least come and assess her and told her to put dad back on the phone. I told dad to call 911 and that if I hadn't heard from him within 20 to 25 minutes I'd call him back to see what was going on.

25 minutes later, I called dad. The medics had just put mom in the ambulance and were heading to the ER at Providence Everett. He was getting ready to drive up behind them. He said mom's vitals were okay, but her blood pressure was very low. I told him I'd be heading right up and left about 5:30pm. I was blessed with wonderful traffic for a Friday night and made it up to Everett in under an hour. I was in the ER with mom and dad before 6:45pm.

The goal in the ER was to drain mom's stomach, but she needed to be stabilized first. For some time there was talk of draining her stomach and sending her home, but as test results started coming back, it became obvious that wasn't going to happen. Mom had an incredible nurse by the name of Chuck. We felt that was appropriate. :-)

Dad went home about 10:00pm and between then and 2:00am, mom had a lot of blood taken, had lots of fluid put in her (she had already had a bladder catheter inserted to measure urine output), and finally had 4 liters of fluid drained from her stomach which instantly helped her breathing, but did nothing for her blood pressure which at one point was 47/29.

Mom was given medication to help bring up her bp in the ER and it was inching it's way up. Her temperature also inched up to a point where they finally had to administer antibiotics for concern of an infection.

The ER doctor came in to give mom a run down of her situation and it was as follows... the fluid that was drained from her stomach was infected... it looked as though she may have pneumonia... and her blood count was very low quite possibly requiring a blood transfusion for which she signed a consent before heading up to her room. The doctor then said she would be moving to ICU. That was a reality check.

Finally around 2am, mom was up on the 4th floor and met her new nurse, Ernie. When Ernie brought me back to mom he told me that he had asked her some questions. She didn't know what month or season we were in, but what he thought was funny that her answer to the question, "Who is the US President?" was "La Bamba". We did have some humor throughout all of this.

Mom also met the ER Doctor, Dr. Tie. He was incredible and really laid things out in black in white. One of his concerns was mom becoming septic. He explained the normal protocol of placing a catheter in the neck. But then he looked at mom and asked her if that felt like too much suffering for her. He knew she was intending not to continue chemo and he wanted to find out exactly what mom was wanting in terms of care. She said that she didn't want the catheter if it became necessary and Dr. Tie completely understood. Dr. Tie also went over life saving efforts with mom. This was hard. To hear her say she didn't want any was incredibly difficult. To think that no CPR would be done was really hard to hear. But I had to respect mom's choices.

Ernie was an awesome nurse and within about 3 hours had mom's bp coming up and her kidneys finally working again. After having a bladder catheter in at 9pm, we were finally seeing urine at 5am. Mom's color was better and she was feeling so much better. Mom dozed in and out. I tried sleeping on two uncomfortable chairs. What I had done a very poor job of was taking care of myself. I was dehydrated and hungry and was become dizzy and nauseous every time I closed my eyes. Thank goodness for my dear friend Shannon who texted me at 6am to find out if I was still at the hospital. By 7:45am, Shannon arrived with a hot latte, one of my favorite Starbucks sandwiches and a bag full of snacks and fruit and another bag full of bottled water. All of which truly saved me. She was my angel this morning. I love you Shan!

By 7am, and shift change, mom seemed to be continuing to improve. Her new nurse, Julia came on shift and we would spend the rest of the day with her.

Dad arrived back around 11am and Michael and Kiersten weren't too far behind. The new ICU Dr. came in and said he did feel mom was improving, but she still needed to be able to keep her blood pressure stable without all the meds. There was definite concern still in his face, but he did feel there had been some improvement.

Not long after, the on call Oncologist, Dr. Condon, came in. He was a very nice man and he called mom, "Mrs. Barr" a few times and mom told him that she didn't want any more chemo. He already knew this, but at this time, he started calling her "Nancy" and he told her that in his professional opinion, she was making the right choice. I think dad needed to hear that. Although none of us wanted to. He said that after some consultation over mom's case, he felt that perhaps this actually was liver cancer which is incredibly hard to treat. He told all of us in the room that if it was his wife or his mother, he would want her to stop the chemo too. He said at this point, it was really about QUALITY of life vs. QUANTITY of life. Mom was so very grateful to Dr. Condon, and I spent most of the time trying not to completely fall apart.

Reality was setting in for all of us. We were no longer looking at prolonging mom's life. We were looking at making what she had left as good as possible. Dr. Condon was so incredible and Julia stayed in the room and held mom's hand. Hospice was discussed and the intent was that when mom was discharged from the hospital, she would return home with daily hospice care. I think that really felt good to dad and took some pressure off him.

I think this conversation took a lot of pressure off of mom too. The decision was made. She knew how things were moving forward. She told me last night in the ER that she wasn't afraid to die. I told her I was afraid of her dying.

Dr. Condon told mom that she was looking at probably a couple of days in ICU and maybe a couple more on the Oncology floor. This, for me, was tough to hear because I knew then I couldn't do nights anymore because of childcare issues. I was going to have to go home tonight and get some sleep because I got none last night. And as I write this, mom is alone at the hospital in the ICU and may very well be getting a blood transfusion. But I left this one up to God and told him I needed him to direct me in the right direction and that direction pointed me home so I could get some rest and see my boys. As I write this, Olly's birthday cake just came out of the oven as well. I don't see myself being around much the next couple of days and this is the least I can do for him as his birthday is Monday. But I also know that without rest I can't take care of mom very well. So, I have to believe that she is in good hands at the hospital. Her night nurse will be Ernie again and I know he'll take good care of her. Julia took down my number and Michael's number and told me that Ernie would call if he felt that anything was changing with mom's status. So, right now my goal is to spend a little time with all my boys at home, finish the birthday cake and then get a good night's sleep to prepare for tomorrow when I will head back up to the hospital for the day. I think I'm taking the boys up because Olly has to take Blake home and I don't want him to have to haul all 3 kids around. My wonderful Shannon has already said I could drop the boys off at her place since I can't really have them in the ICU.

So, that's the abbreviated version believe it or not. ;-) The in between points are all the conversations that were had. I had a lot of time with mom. Much of it was spent in silence, but during some of it stories were shared. When Michael and Kiersten and dad were all there, there was definitely some laughter. And then the conversation turned to next steps. We talked about cremation and where they have burial plots and catholic funerals. And then mom felt she wanted to have people over to which I was SO pleased. She wanted to have a party. And so that's our next step. We're planning sort of an open house for people to come laugh, share stories, and say good-bye to mom. We're trying to plan it quickly because we honestly have no idea how much time there is left. Right now were are looking at Saturday, May 2nd. I think this is one of the gifts to losing someone like this. The opportunity to say good-bye. Mom knows she will most likely be in the living room in her hospital bed, and she's okay with that. She wants a celebration. And we're going to give her one.

And as I sit here, the tears are coming again. I am exhausted. I know after an all night birth my emotions are very wacky. But the tears don't really stop now. I cried much of the way home on my drive tonight.

The small goodbyes are getting bigger. I sit here tonight knowing mom is in the hospital without us. She wanted this. She sent us all home. She will probably sleep much better. But I am so worried that something will happen. She'll stop breathing and no CPR will be performed per her request and my last good-bye was my last one. But I also have put my faith in God that if I was supposed to be there tonight, I would have been there.

And I will head back up first thing in the morning. I will spend another day at the hospital. More conversations will be had. More good-byes. Each one hurts more. I feel I'm counting my time with mom in days now, not weeks, not months...but simply days...and that's terrifying. She is dying. She will be gone soon. And my world as I know it will be over. How can this woman just simply be gone off this earth? How? It's not fair! It's just not fair. I know I will carry her with me forever and I will share stories of her with my children. But she will be gone, except in my heart. My heart that is currently shattered and broken. I assume some day it will be back in one piece. One piece with many scars. I'm just so scared to walk through this. I am just simply so scared.

But for now, mom wants a celebration of her life. She wants to say her good-byes. That I can give her.

For those of you who are family and close friends, please make some time to come laugh with, reminisce with, and say good-bye to Nancy. To my mom. The the woman that made me who I am today. The woman to whom I owe my life and these 2 beautiful children of mine. Please come share your stories...bring pictures if you've got them. Come celebrate the life of My Mom. It deserves celebration. This earth will be missing a very special piece when she is gone.

Thank you to all of you who have contacted me to offer your love, support and prayers. They just keep coming in and they mean so much to me and all my family. We are surrounded by love. And that makes our loss just a little tiny bit easier to bear. We love you all!

Day 28: Disappointment and Anger

Judge me if you will for today's post. But this is my blog. I started it as a way to express my own feelings. And today, they're ugly. Period.

I was supposed to go up and see mom today. I called just before the boys and I were getting ready to hop in the car only to be told there was really no reason to come up today if I was coming up on Monday anyway. Mom wasn't feeling well again and just didn't think it was a good day to have visitors.

And I got off the phone incredibly disappointed and sad. As the day has gone on, it's actually turned into anger. I am SO angry. I'm angry at God. I'm angry at the universe. I'm angry at myself. And in all honesty, I think a part of me is angry at my mom. I know that's unfair and irrational, but it's how I feel.

I know she didn't choose to get cancer. I understand that. That's the part I'm angry at God about. But mom is choosing to stop chemo which means her time left on this earth is very limited and I feel that I, and pretty much everyone else, is being forced to stay away. And I don't feel like it's fair. I just want as much of the little time I have left with my mom. I don't care what she looks like. I don't care if she has to take a nap. I don't care. I just want to be there. I feel so helpless here. At least up at mom and dads I feel like we can talk. I can understand more of what mom is going through. I know I can't do anything to take this away. But I just simply want to be there. And it hurts that I'm not allowed to. And a part of me just wants to go anyway, and the other part of me knows I need to respect her wishes. But I am SO mad today.

And maybe a lot of it is directed at myself. Why didn't I visit more before? Why am I trying to jam a lifetime of visits into a short period of time before mom dies? That's my fault. I only have myself to blame for that. But mom and I have always had our "stuff" and sometimes I just didn't want to deal with it. The last 3 1/2 years have been incredibly tough in my life and I've pulled away from everyone. Crap...as I type that I realize it's the same thing mom is doing. She's pulling away because how do you process all of this? What I was processing and experiencing wasn't life or death and I needed to do it on my own. Mom is looking death in the eyes and somehow I expect her to do that surrounded by people.

But...what I learned throughout the last 3 1/2 years is that asking for help is not a sign of weakness. And people do truly want to help. I've always been the one to help. I have never been one to accept help. Gee...I wonder where I got that from? But I could not have survived the last 3 1/2 years without the help of my friends. That's all any of us want to do for mom. We want to help. And we want to see her and maybe laugh and reminisce a little. And we want to say our good-byes.

But mom is pushing us away and that makes me mad. Maybe I'm just frustrated with the fact that I do understand where she is coming from, but I also know what I feel and I want her to understand that too. But, of course, I've never actually said it that way. Maybe I need to so she can understand that although she is suffering, all of those that love her are suffering too. Today I got to thinking that maybe she doesn't understand how important she is to so many people. Maybe she needs to hear that.

~ Sigh ~ So, it's taken me a long time to get this far in this blog post because I've stopped to wipe tears and blow my nose several times. Perhaps it's easier to be angry than it is to hurt as deeply as I'm hurting.

28 days. 4 weeks. One month. What a different person I was a month ago. I didn't have this constant pain in my heart. I didn't force numbness upon myself so as not to feel it. I didn't feel like there was a clock ticking in my ear. I didn't look at people and wonder if they had both their parents. I didn't look at the world as though I was an outsider looking in on all the life that was happening. I am a different person. I am understanding that I will never again be the person I was 29 days ago. Perhaps I'll be "more" like her again. But I'll never be the same. This experience has, and will continue, to change me deep inside.

It's Spring. The weather is beautiful today. My birthday is in exactly 2 weeks. Mother's Day comes 10 days later. My new nephew will be here 11 days after that. Mom's birthday is 2 weeks and 2 days after his. This should be a wonderful time of celebrating in our family. But I don't know how many of these things my mom will see. The past month has proved that things can change very quickly. Mom's birthday is 7 weeks away. 51 days. I don't know what those 51 days are going to do to mom. I don't know is she'll see 73. Hell, I'm mad that John Madden retired today at 73. He's healthy enough that he's worked this long and now is going to retire to be with his family. And my mom may never see 73! That's how I look at the world these days. Nothing seems fair or okay or good anymore.

Tonight I go teach a childbirth class to people that are bringing beautiful babies into the world. I turn on auto pilot and I do my job well. And I know it's good that I have this outlet. I've got two clients due in the next 2 weeks as well and that will be good for me too. Life and Death. It's my entire world right now. And I stand somewhere in the middle trying to make sense of it all. Trying to find the meaning of life in the midst of great heartbreak. That's when we always tend to be looking for it isn't it? I don't expect to find an answer. I just wonder when the pain will subside and I will be able to see more clearly again. And what I know is that I still have a mountain to climb to find that clarity. And it's a big mountain and a scary climb and one that I don't want to make, but one that I know I must.

So, maybe the anger was always to mask the pain. I don't feel as angry after trying to finish this post for the past hour and a half. But now I keep welling up with tears. I don't know which is worse. The anger or the pain. Yes I do...it's the pain. And no matter what I do to try and ignore it, mask it, get away from it...it's always there. It defines me. My mom has cancer and she's dying. No matter how well I function on the outside, that is who I am on the inside. I hurt. I see it when I look in the mirror. I see it in the eyes of the girl who looks back at me. My nearly 40 year old eyes look into the mirror and the little girl inside of me looks back and she's losing her mom. And her eyes tell the story.

And maybe that's the oddest thing of all. I may be nearly 40 years old. I may be a mom myself. But somehow, at my darkest moments, I simply turn back into a 10 year old girl who is scared and wants her mom to come protect her. But my mom can't protect me anymore. I'm out in the open and vulnerable and I have to face this fear on my own. My mom is facing her own fears. Her own reality. And I will hold her hand now as she faces them. The roles have reversed. And I wasn't ready. The almost 40 year old woman can do this somehow for my mom. But the little girl inside is falling to pieces.

I have yet to figure out how a woman processes losing her mom. Maybe we never do. We just go through it because we have no other choice. But what happens to that little girl inside? What does she do now? Where does she go? That I guess I still have to learn.

What I do know is that that little girl inside and the almost 40 year old woman on the outside will never be quite the same again.

We'll never be who we were 29 days ago.

And all of it...every little part of this...as selfish as I know it all is...makes me incredibly sad for me and that little girl.

Day 27: Control

I talked to mom today. She sounded better than I feel she has sounded in the past 27 days. She was still exhausted and frustrated and not feeling well. But she sounded like herself.

And for a moment I thought maybe she was in a good enough place to reconsider ending her chemo.

But one of the first things she asked me was if I had talked to Michael. I told her I had and she asked me what he thought. I asked her, "about what?" and she said, "how he feels about me not doing any more chemo". And it was quickly apparent that she was still done.

We talked longer than we've talked in a while. She shared with me some more of her symptoms. Her hair started falling out today. She was told that probably wouldn't happen...but it's happening.

I guess Aunt Linda and Uncle Bill were supposed to visit today, but mom got sick after getting out of the shower and then was concerned what else was going to happen today so she cancelled the visit with them which I was sorry to hear. She said that after that episode, she felt fine and has felt fine the rest of the day.

And she really did sound like herself, for the most part. And it hit me. Maybe for the first time in 27 days, my mom feels like she has some control over her life. Maybe by choosing to stop the chemo, she has taken back some power over her own life. She knows that by making this choice she is choosing to die. But she is choosing not to partake in this chemo process. She is choosing to let her body do whatever it must do from here on out, without the interference of more drugs.

Don't get me wrong. I hate the whole idea of this. I hate the whole stupid cancer. And I hate that I can't stop any of it. But the bottom line is that it's not my body.

Mom mentioned that dad still doesn't agree. I told her to put herself in his shoes for just a moment. There is no good middle ground here. There is nothing good for any of us in this situation. My mom is dying. My dad is going to have to live without her. Neither of those are happy options.

I'm planning to go up there tomorrow. I told mom I'd call her before I left in case she wasn't feeling well. But hopefully we'll make it up there tomorrow.

Thanks to Julie and Mary, I am covered for childcare on Monday so I can go to the Oncologist appointment with mom and dad.

And so now we start moving forward again. It's a different path. It's a terrifying path. And, sadly, it's probably a short path. We'll get more of an idea of all of what is coming on Monday from the Oncologist.

I don't want to walk this path. I'm finding it hard to simply put one foot in front of the other. But if my mom is walking it, then I will walk it with her. I owe her that much.

Day 26: No More

~ For those of you who are family and friends who are reading this, please don't share this blog post with mom and dad. I don't know how much they're wanting this word to spread right now, but I need to get it out for myself tonight ~

As of today, she's done with chemo.

I called for my daily check in today. Dad was obviously upset. He said that things weren't good. He ultimately couldn't tell me and put mom on the phone. She told me through tears that she was done with chemo.

Again...another punch in the gut.

But the first thing I told her was that I would support her in whatever decision she needed to make. I told her that I have never wanted her to do chemo for anyone but herself. She told me that meant a lot to her. She was very scared and sad. She's experiencing new symptoms and she just doesn't want to do it anymore. How can I blame her for that? How can I insist she keep fighting when I'm not living in her body?

But dammit I want to! I want to convince her to fight. I am terrified right now. I'm not ready for this.

But ultimately it's not about me.

Dad is devastated. He was obviously very upset. After mom couldn't talk anymore, dad got back on the phone and I told him I was sorry. I asked him how he was. And I could hear his voice shaking. He said, "I guess it doesn't really matter how I feel." I told him it mattered a lot how he felt. He then said, "I guess I'm just being selfish. I just don't want to be alone." I'm in tears typing this right now. My parents are both hurting so much. My dad feels so powerless throughout this. He's been fighting right alongside mom and he's frustrated that she doesn't want to fight anymore. I understand that. I totally understand his perspective. But I also understand mom's. And there's simply just no middle ground.

So, mom and dad have an appointment on Monday with mom's Oncologist. A part of me wants to hope that he will tell her something that will convince her to go forward with the chemo. Mom's emotions go up and down every day and some days are better than others. Perhaps when she has a better day, she'll change her mind. She doesn't have another chemo session scheduled until the 24th. But tonight, she really sounded done.

And so my head is spinning. I had to observe another instructor tonight and my head just wasn't there. I don't want to work. I don't want to function as a normal human being because I don't feel like a normal human being. And yet, I keep pulling it together. I feel like I'm on the edge of a cliff and just one step and I will completely fall apart. I feel like if I even let anyone else in to help take care of me, I will completely fall apart and there will be no return. I'm pushing people away. I'm pulling it together. I'm taking care of others. That's what I do. But inside of me, it's bubbling up...I can feel it. And I keep fighting it. Because I have to. But, believe me, there is a huge part of me that just wants to let it happen. And I wonder when it will all hit. And it scares me.

But so much scares me right now. I'm not ready to lose my mom. I'm just not. It's been 26 days. 26 days! I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready for hospice and morphine. I can't stand the thought of my mom suffering. I can't stand the thought of living without her. Yes, I know parents die. But not yet. It's just not supposed to be yet. How do I live in this world without my mom? I don't know how to do it and I don't want to.

As of today, my mom has stopped taking steps forward. As of today, each small goodbye means even more than before. I want to believe things will change. But if I live in today, I have to face this decision. No matter how much I don't want to.

Day 25: Up and Down, Back and Forth

That's basically what dad told me that he and mom are feeling these days. Don't know which way they're going half the time.

Today dad is dealing with the whole potassium thing. He picked up the medication from the hospital pharmacy, but the pharmacist mentioned that one of the water pills mom is taking for her blood pressure actually holds on to potassium and they're trying to reduce mom's potassium level. So, then dad spent time trying to research the cancer center and find out if mom is supposed to take that water pill while they're trying to reduce the potassium or not. He didn't have an answer yet when I spoke to him about a half hour ago.

On top of it, the one thing that mom has been able to ingest is orange juice. She's drinking bottles of orange juice all day. But orange juice is full of potassium. So the one thing she can actually tolerate could actually be causing her more problems.

It's just a constant struggle to even things out. Dad mentioned to the nurse that mom is really tired and constantly cold and the nurse said that both those things are, unfortunately, side affects of chemo. It's just all so frustrating.

Although for now, mom's stomach doesn't seem to be bothering her as much so I'm hoping that's a positive sign that maybe the chemo is actually doing something for it. Only time will tell I suppose.

This is mom's week off of chemo...we'll see how it goes. It would be great if she could have a week without a hospital visit. Although I wish she could feel better to actually enjoy her time off. And I'd like dad to have some down time too.

But I guess we all just keep putting one foot in front of another...and keep up hope that things will improve.

Day 24: Easter

We had a lovely Easter today...outside of the drenching rain anyway. :-O It was simple and easy with lots of laughter. Well, maybe mom didn't laugh as much as the rest of us...she was very tired...but she seemed very happy to have us all there.

We only stayed for about 3 and 1/2 hours and I'm sure mom went to bed as soon as we left. But we did leave dad a bunch of food so hopefully he'll have some variety in his diet for a few days.

Mom at about 1/2 the sugar free pumpkin pie that Kiersten made for her. She had some fruit, a couple of radishes and even a few potato chips (her former vice), so it was all better than nothing.

Dad brought me into another room and showed me how he has organized all mom's medications. He showed me how to use her glucose monitor and also showed me where he keeps their will and other pertinent papers. I think he just needed to know someone had this information. He mentioned to Kiersten on Friday that he's a little worried about what would happen to mom if something happened to him. So, I don't anticipate needing to know any of the above information anytime in the near future. But if it eases dad's mind then it's worth knowing.

I also brought my ipod and voice recorder and just turned it on in the corner of the room. Mom didn't talk a lot today but dad shared some fun stories and I've downloaded the recordings just to listen to someday in the future. I'm really glad I bought that thing. I plan to get a lot of use out of it!

I hope everyone had a very nice Easter surrounded by those you love!

Day 23: Distraction

Today was all about distraction for me. I taught a one day childbirth class and was at the birth center from 7am - 6pm. Then Olly and I went out to dinner to celebrate his birthday a little early. I'm just now getting home and settling in for the night.

I did talk to mom and dad today though. I don't always get the opportunity to talk to mom because she's either too tired or sleeping, but tonight she sounded pretty good. She still can't eat much of anything. She says she's down to ice cream now. I told her there could be worse things. ;-) She's still incredibly tired too.

Dad told me that last night the nurse from the cancer center called to tell them that the doctor had prescribed a one time pill to bring mom's Potassium level back up. Dad called in the prescription to Costco and then got a call from Costco to tell him that to fill the prescription would be over $300!!! Turns out it's a very rare medication and not too many places stock it, so Costco would have had to buy an entire case and would have had to charge dad for it. So, he called the 24 hour line at the cancer center and they told him to try and fill it closer to the hospital. He asked if mom needed the medication this weekend and was told it was okay to wait a few days, so he's going to try and fill it at the hospital pharmacy on Monday. Craziness! My dad is working sooooo hard for mom!

We're headed up for Easter tomorrow. Poor little Gus has a cough and so Michael and Kiersten are trying to figure out if they can bring him or not. They want Gus to see mom, but they also don't want to make her sick. It's all such a hard situation right now! Everything is so different. Things we never had to consider before are now top considerations.

And even with all the distractions today, I find my mom permeates all my thoughts. I'll be teaching something I've taught over and over and she'll pop into my head. Driving to work early this morning, I was passing all the cherry blossoms in bloom and burst into tears because I was wondering if my mom would ever see another cherry blossom blooming season. I look at everything that way now. If I'm to find the positive in that, it is that I now see the world through different eyes and that is a good thing. But I want mom to see the world. I want her to see everything for a long time to come.

I want to believe this won't be mom's last Easter. I want to believe that next year, I'll still be blogging and be on blog #388 and joking about how we were worried that this year would be mom's last Easter. I really want to believe all that. But I worry that's being too overly optimistic.

Right now I just need to take each day, each holiday, each family celebration one at a time. I turn 40 in 19 days. I was really looking forward to a big birthday celebration this year. I've been looking forward to 40. But now I just want my mom to be around to see it. That's simply all I want. 40 years ago, she gave birth to me and her whole world turned upside down. 40 years later, I'm facing losing her and mine is turning upside down now.

But for now I'll try to focus on tomorrow and Easter with the family. Doesn't look like any of the grandkids will be there which is kind of sad. But at the same time, it will probably be a quieter day for mom as well. It will be good for all of us to be together. It's been a long time. Too long.

I wish you all a wonderful Easter holiday surrounded by those you love!

Day 22: Round 2

Mom had her 2nd dose of chemo today. Michael and Kiersten went with mom and dad. It all seemed pretty routine from what was relayed to me.

Mom's Oncologist has been gone all week so the back-up Oncologist that met with mom this week didn't really get into anything with her. There didn't seem to be any more discussion about her kidney function or anemia or her stomach swelling or her nausea or anything.

That all drives my type A personality crazy. I mean mom doesn't get chemo again for 2 weeks. A lot can happen in 2 weeks. A LOT has happened in the past 3 weeks. I guess I just would have liked some more answers. But I want lots of answers to questions that may have no answers. I guess I'm just really frustrated. What's new?

Tomorrow I teach all day. That's probably a good thing. My boys are at their dad's and I hate not having them around. I can't get my mind off my mom. Teaching all day will probably be a good distraction. But right at this moment, I rather like the idea of having a day to sleep in, but it doesn't seem that's in my near future.

Sunday, Michael, Kiersten, Olly and I are heading up to mom and dad's for a quiet Easter. I'm bringing my new voice recorder and plan to just set it up in the room and hope we have some laughter and tell some stories. I'm just hoping mom is feeling okay and can enjoy the day a little. If nothing else, dad will get a meal that he didn't have to put together for himself. :-)

I want to say Thank You again to all of you who have been in touch and been letting me know that you're thinking and praying for me and my family. Word seems to be spreading and I'm hearing from a lot of people and it truly means so very much to me. I'm sorry I haven't been very good at replying individually, but I truly appreciate every one of you. Your thoughts and prayers are what is getting me through. I feel your support and it means the world to me.

And now we move on to week four...still working on taking things one step at a time...one moment at a time...as each moment seems to hold something new.

Day 21: Three Weeks

21 Days. 3 Weeks. It seems like so short of a time, and yet it almost seems like my entire life.

I talked to dad a little bit ago and he says that mom is nauseous. I was surprised by this and asked him when it started. He said that she's been saying for a while that nothing sounds good, but that he's now figured out that "nothing sounds good" translates to "I think I'll throw up if I eat". I asked if that started before or after the stomach draining and mom said that she doesn't really know...that when her stomach was so large, that's all she could think about.

Dad has started mom back on her anti-nausea pills. But this really scares me because the reason mom chose to go forward with the chemo was because people told her it might make her feel better. If it doesn't start making her feel better soon, I think she'll be done with it. And I can't say I blame her. Granted, she's only done one dose, but she's so tired and has so many other side affects and symptoms. I don't know...it just seems that there's been more bad news lately than good news. And I get off the phone discouraged and in tears. And I wonder what it's like at mom and dad's house. What kind of conversations are they having? How is my dad holding it together? He's working SO hard. And he's doing such a great job. But I worry about him too.

I've found myself with a terrible headache today. I rarely take anything for headaches, but today I just might have to. I teach tonight and in this condition I can't even think straight.

I'm feeling things are really wearing on me. And I have started finding myself falling apart at weird random times. I'll simply be driving down the street and will burst out in tears. My patience is so much shorter than it should be and I'm working on that...but I feel like there is a clock ticking in my head. I feel like time is running out and I can't stop thinking and thinking and thinking. My mind is constantly racing.

More and more people are finding out about my mom. I have friends and clients I haven't talked to in a while who are just finding out and I'm getting texts and phone calls and e-mails and facebook messages and it feels so good to have so much support. It's kind of overwhelming how many people are out there and care about me. It really has touched my heart.

Last night I talked with one of my clients who had her baby in January. She's an Oncology nurse. She sat on the phone with me for 45 minutes last night and just let me spew out all my thoughts, hopes and concerns. She simply listened. And then she made some really good suggestions that I needed to hear. It was just good to talk to someone who really does understand this. And also who knows me just a little. I appreciate so much all the people who are taking time out of their own lives for me right now.

Oh...and an update on the stomach draining...I finally got an answer around 5:30pm last night. The longer version of getting mom's stomach drained won't work. I guess it's okay if there isn't cancer involved, but because all of mom's stomach fluid is cancer filled, the option the Radiologist mentioned on Tuesday won't work. They did say that mom can have another liter and a half drained whenever she needs it though so I told her not to wait next time. She doesn't need to suffer with it.

So, tomorrow is round 2 of chemo. I really want to be there, but I'm letting Michael take it tomorrow. It will be good for him to have some time with both mom and dad. Kiersten is going to go too and I know it will be good for her as well. She's really feeling like she needs to see my mom and so tomorrow will hopefully be good for all of them. But I really still feel so protective and feel the need to be there. Is that an oldest child thing or just me being over protective?

But I've managed to plan a busy day tomorrow to keep my mind somewhere else if possible. The boys and I are going to see the new Hannah Montana movie (anyone want to keep me company??? Ugh...) and then color Easter eggs afterwards. They're going to their dads this weekend so I won't have them most of the day on Easter so want to do a little pre-Easter celebrating. I teach all day Saturday which is going to be a long day...but again...I guess it gives my mind something else to do. Michael and Kiersten and Olly and I are planning to converge on mom and dad's for Easter Sunday. We'll just have a simple, buffet style meal. We just all want to spend the holiday together though. In all honesty, we don't know how many more holidays we'll have together and we just want as many as possible. I'm still regretting that I didn't spend Thanksgiving last year with them. And I hope it wasn't my last chance for a big family Thanksgiving. I know...regrets are useless...but I still have them.

So, please send out thoughts and prayers for all of us tomorrow as mom goes through round 2 of chemo. They all mean so very much!