Day 10

Ten days down and eighteen more to go.  Today I saw the first real effects the chemo pills are having on Mom.  She has never been one to complain.  She has taken care of others her whole life.  Trying to convince her to take it easy is a difficult task.  When I picked her up this morning to take her to radiation, I could tell she was really dragging.  I somehow convinced her to take a nap when I dropped her off and to let me do her shopping.  I think she ended up taking two naps today, which has to be a record.

So, to top off the incredible timing of this cancer diagnosis, she also found out last week someone got her information and has used it to open credit cards in her name.  I just love that some family out there probably had an amazing Christmas with tons of gifts (based on the amount of money they charged).  So, while she is trying to remain as stress-free as possible in order to take the best care of herself, she also has this happening at the same time.

Back to the appointment today...every Friday after her radiation treatment, she has what they call a Weekly See.  She meets with the radiation oncologist to discuss any side effects, questions, etc.  This is the first time I've been to one of these appointments.  Of course, the regular doc was on vacation (understandable), but the guy who was filling in was clearly not psyched about it.  Luckily, she has no reactions to the radiation since his reaction to a concern she had about something that could or could not be related was, "Well, we will just have to keep an eye on that."  He then proceeded to ask if we had any questions as he walked out the door.  I'm not sure why I was so bothered by him.  I have been extremely pleased with everyone else since all of this began.  Maybe I'm just tired.

She has the weekend off to rest and will resume treatment on Monday.  My sister is coming into town since they couldn't be here for Christmas.  Hopefully this visit will help lift Mom's spirits a bit.

The dreaded "C" word...

It was supposed to just be a routine procedure.  Well, as routine as a colonoscopy that should have been done 20 years sooner could be.  I took off that morning of work to take Mom to have the procedure done.  I even remember sending a text to my co-workers telling them I should be back to work within an hour or two.  As we sat at the round table, talking about what she wanted to eat since she had been on a liquid diet for the past 24 hours, I kept glancing at the doctor as he examined the images on the computer screen.  He would look over every now and then and apologize for taking so long.  We were told they were having printing issues when we arrived, so I thought nothing of it.  I had no idea what I was looking at over his shoulder from across the room anyway.  As I sent a text to my sister letting her know Mom was doing fine, we were just waiting on the doc to come over and chat, I overheard him tell the nurse three words that I was not expecting to hear.  "There's a mass."  What was happening?  Had I heard him correctly?  Should I tell her what I just heard?  I quickly texted my sister.  Then he came over and sat down.  I almost felt bad for him for having to deliver the news.  I sat beside my mother as he told us about the mass, its size, location, and that it was likely cancer.  I couldn't look at her.  A single tear fell down my face.  (I didn't even know that was possible before now.)  I immediately went into business-mode.  What was the next step?  They needed a CT scan to confirm.  I began texting both my brother and sister who are both in the medical field.  My brother organized a CT for that afternoon.  As I walked out to the front desk to check her out and get some information, I broke down in front of the doctor, but only for a bit.  I knew I had to get in the car with her and put on a brave face.  We don't do feelings very well in this family.  Plus, she hates to cry and rarely does it in front of anyone.  Things moved pretty quickly after that.  CT scan, phone calls to MD Anderson, appointments scheduled with all different types of doctors I didn't even know existed.  And here we are today.  It's the day after Christmas.  She has Stage 3 Colon Cancer.  She has completed 9 days of chemo and radiation with 19 more to go.  Things are going well.  She feels great.  No nausea or hair loss yet.  And I have to remind myself daily of these things because it is so easy to just get angry, frustrated, and incredibly sad and scared about all of it.  I have come to realize that worrying too much about what the future holds will only make me crazy.  I instead intend to live each day with her to its fullest because you never know if you will get a tomorrow.