Chemo

...sucks.

It sucks the energy out, it sucks away your blood counts so your red blood cells and white cells drop, and you become anemic, and you have no energy to do anything but sleep and maybe eat a little of what your husband and daughter are offering you in the hopes that it transforms into something that will replace what's missing in your cells, boost your energy, sustain you while poison is coursing through your veins on its way to confusing the cells that are dividing unchecked, so that they do themselves in.

Thank you to the nurses who keep an eye on things, and to the doctor who himself seems uplifted, encouraged at her progress.

MRI brings good news

Just a quick update, and I apologize because I know it's been a while. The results of Mom's MRI yesterday came in, and the tumor has shrunk! Isn't that wonderful? Also, there were no new tumors, so maybe this toxic mix of Avastin and Temodar (chemotherapy) is doing good work up there! Thank you, everyone, for your continued prayers. It really does help.

Mom has been sleeping most of the day, though she did get out and about for a little while. The physical therapist at the hospital helped her stand for about 20 minutes with the support of a walker, and she and Daddy took a stroll/roll (he walked, she wheeled) around the hospital corridors. But chemo is well known for sapping your energy and making you feel bad in general, and it's not going easy on Mom. She's getting lots of rest and good nursing care here, though. And the food is better than it was at the rehab hospital. Speaking of which, can anyone recommend a good inpatient rehab facility? We need to find one, stat.

Rare Sweet Evenings

Mother's Day - it's got to the the best holiday ever, I know all the mothers reading this agree!  We had a nice picnic dinner at the rehab center with Mom. The patio outside was sunny and the air was the perfect temperature, with a slight breeze that ruffled the napkins but didn't blow the pink flowered paper plates away after all the barbeque and fried okra were supped up.  Rare in Texas, a sweet evening like that with Mom enjoying time outside with her family.

Rarer especially since the treatments Mom has been receiving have fairly wiped out her energy. We were thinking this last round of Avastin (given a week ago Monday) was harder to take than the initial one, because Mom's lethargy has been profound and she's had a tough time completing her therapy without being exhausted. We may have found a new culprit though, contributing to the problem, which was confirmed last night.

Mom's sugar levels are sky high!  Ugh.  Finger pokes are now a mandatory appetizer before every meal...but this form of diabetes is something, thankfully, that's controllable and treatable.  I don't know the details, but we know the sugar levels are attributed to the steroids she's been taking for months now.  The steroids help reduce and maintain reduced swelling in her brain, but the goodness comes with some side effects and whacked out sugars is one of them.  

This afternoon after all therapies were completed, Mom had a nice hour of energy and wanted to go outside.  While she was wheeling herself down the hall, Sara showed up with Caroline, Catherine, and Mary Claire, backpack and lunch box laden, having just been picked up from school.  All of us walked/wheeled together to the front patio of the rehab facility, and sat in the shade chatting about little things, "Do I hear an airplane?" "Well that's a truck on the highway but it sounds as loud as an airplane!"  "Did you get rid of the ducks?" (in Mom and Dad's pool) "Yes, the big ugly blow up swan floating in the water seems to have done the trick."  Light casual conversation, nice and easy.  The girls played games in the yard around the tree, how many skips does it take from here to there, how many pirouettes, how fast can you sprint it?  A friend from church walked up to see her Grandma, it was nice to see her and introduce her to our extended family.  Mom seemed to enjoy the levity, the fresh air, as well as the change of pace and scenery.

And for scenery, let's just say there are some colorful characters at rehab. Accidents and disease surely don't discriminate.  I have no idea why this particularly colorful person was there, but he was at the right place at the right time.  As he walked up with his ratty hair, semi-toothless grin, tattooed arms, and well-worn guitar, my mother smiled up at him, and asked him if he was there to play a song.  

He said yes, sure he was.  And he stopped right there on the patio, strummed some chords, and started to sing in a raspy voice.  A voice well-seasoned with who knows what, experiences I doubt any of us share with him.  He wasn't there to see us, but he took the time out to make my mother happy by sharing a song.  The chorus of the song went something like this:

Like a drunk reaches for his bottle

like a crying baby reaches for his mama

like a tree reaches for the sky

I reach for you

I reach for you

Who was he reaching for?  I don't know.  I know who I was reaching for in that moment.  As tears came down my face, and my mother's eyes were welling up, the singer concluded his song, and he said, "I wrote that song a long time ago. But I wasn't sure until now just who I wrote it for. But I think I must have wrote it for you."  

And we thanked him, I think, at least I hope we did.  It's hard to remember this part, and he walked inside to visit who he had really come to visit and sing to, or with. 

How lucky we were to be sitting on that patio.  It was another rare sweet evening.  Mom's doctors have told us to look for and appreciate each moment together, and tonight was one worth remembering.

Lifetime Achievement and Little Steps

Happy family and friends celebrating with Mom at the Golden Gala.

 You'd think after many days of no blog updates, there should be much to say. Maybe there should, but the words aren't coming. So I have bullet points instead. I know many of you are wanting to know what's the latest with Mom, so here goes:

1.  On Thursday, May 3rd, Mom was honored by North Richland Middle School as their Teacher of the Year. (See the program guide here.) It was a wonderful evening for her, surrounded by friends and family, her first foray out of a non-sterile, hospital-like atmosphere since Feb 10th.  YEAH!  We are ever grateful to the Birdville Independent School District, as their spontaneous standing ovation for Mom was overwhelming.  It was as if Mom was receiving a "Lifetime Achievement Award" as one of her friends commented, because truly, Mom had taught many teachers in that room over her years working at NRMS.

2.  Mom's been slowly and steadily progressing with her physical therapy at Heartland Rehabilitation.  New favorite activity is standing up with a walker and taking a few little steps.  Michael, her physical therapist, has her working on balance with the walker. She stands and holds the walker with one hand, and tosses bean bags with the other. It's quite a workout, Mom says, and she is more confident each time she tries.

3.  Back in HEB hospital today for her 2nd Avastin treatment, Mom has a corner room for tonight. We expect she'll do well with this infusion and will be back in Heartland maybe tomorrow.  The corner room is nice and big.  I think as many nights as she's spent in HEB, she should have a suite in her name.  The nurses once again welcomed us by name as we stopped by to visit today.  Oncology nurses are wonderful people. If you have to have cancer, at least at HEB you've got a caring crowd around to help you.

4.  Mom's handwriting is improving, as are her reading skills.  If you want to send a personal note, it would be great if it were printed with large print, it's much easier for her to read, and she can practice copying the letters.

5.  Her verbal skills are up and down depending how tired she is, but she's getting quite good at stopping and taking a deep breath before going on when the words become salad-like.  On Saturday morning, she and Caroline had a lengthy discussion on To Kill a Mockingbird, and I'm pretty sure they have made a reading date for later. I love that this book transcends generations so that my mother and daughter can both dive deep into it.

Thanks for keeping up with the texts and emails and notes of support.  It's a long road, but Mom really enjoys hearing from all of you, and one day, hopefully soon, hopes to see you again!