It's A Start (long blog for a long week)
This week has been pretty tough. There’s some relief in knowing she’s on the road to recovery but even with that, it’s a tough, scary and sometimes unbearable road.
She's had radiation treatments every morning this week. It will continue over the next 6 weeks every Monday through Friday. The doctor says she should not experience any side effects from the radiation for a couple of weeks, however her joints in her hips (where they are targeting the radiation) ache. Rubbing helps somewhat. She goes to the hospital for the radiation treatment. We don’t have to fight for parking because the hospital has a free valet service and with all the construction going on at the hospital, that is huge. The same guy meets us every morning with a smile and asks us how we are doing as he takes my keys. He seems so sincere, like he really does care.
In the waiting room, we sit with the same people every morning. The appointments are the same for each person every day. There is one woman probably in her 40’s who like mom, started radiation and chemo this week. Her husband, daughter, and her parents have taken turns bringing her to treatment each day. She has a brain tumor. Her husband says that she has undergone several surgeries and now she’s taking radiation and chemo (pill form). He says that the cancer is an extremely aggressive cancer. While she and mom were back in the treatment room, her husband and I both nearly broke down talking about all we’ve been through in the last few weeks. We both agreed that for us the not knowing was a hundred times worse than the actual diagnosis and treatment. At least that part is over for now.
His wife reminds me of a cute little soccer mom with the best personality and everything to live for. She’s so positive and always grabs my hand each day to connect and reassure me that mom is going to be just fine. She came to radiation today smiling as always but a little off balance. I think the radiation or maybe the chemo is messing with her equilibrium. Another woman began radiation this week. She has breast cancer and has spent the last 9 months going through chemo. The past 4 days of chemo is too much, I can’t imagine 9 months of it. After living through that, I wouldn’t think she’d be scared of anything, but she was nervous right before her first radiation treatment. One guy is gonna finish up this week. I’m not sure what kind of cancer he has but he walks kinda funny. Mom asked today if I thought she’d walk like him at the end of her treatments. I thought to myself, funny walking or not, there's something to be said for making it to the end.
Mom’s radiologist is really cool. She’s probably around my age and is definitely a straight shooter. At an appointment before mom’s radiation began, she sat down explained in detail the cancer and the treatment she has planned. She ordered another test to take a better look at the cancer so she could aim the radiation directly at the tumor. She shows compassion but isn’t overboard. She leaves you feeling confident in that she knows what she’s doing. We saw her again mid week. She gave mom a hug and said “Let’s kill some cancer together.”
Mom got 3 tattoos, one on each hip and the other right on her butt. They’re just little black marks that help the technicians line up the radiation machine. Maybe when it’s all over I can convince her to turn them into flowers, stars, or something. She said getting the little tattoo dots really hurt so she’s probably not up for any more. They also drew lines all over her hips and butt with red and blue permanent markers. (kinda patriotic)
Monday, mom had her first round of chemo at the cancer clinic. When we arrived, the receptionist (someone mom and dad met at church on Sunday) greeted mom with encouraging words. Her doctor and nurses are really laid back and have a way of putting you at ease. They say to call any time mom experiences any side effects. They say chemo isn’t nearly as bad as in year’s past because there are so many meds available to fight off side effects. Mom’s called once and I’ve called a couple of times already. They always call right back, showing concern and ready to help.
Mom’s receiving 2 different kinds of chemo. One was given Monday through an IV at the clinic. It took a little over an hour much better than the 2 to 3 hours they said it would take in chemo class the week before. Some people on different types of chemo take 6 to 7 hours to empty the IV bag, can you imagine? The treatment room has probably 50 recliners or more, most of them were taken Monday afternoon.
There’s a ton of people battling cancer, I never paid much attention until now. You see someone that you think might have cancer or hear of someone that has cancer and you think how sad, but it never really hits you, at least it didn’t for me, until now.
I imagined the treatment room to have a heavy feeling and be totally depressing, but it wasn’t. Every few seconds someone’s IV would start beeping, nurses were busy checking patients, as the patients lounged in the chairs. Some were working, others sleeping, many talking, even laughing, just kinda hanging out. For a split second, I thought of comparing it to the atmosphere at Panera, but naw I wouldn’t go that far. But, it really wasn’t so bad. The nurse taking care of mom was awesome. She of course monitored the IV and all that stuff but also sat down and really talked to mom. Mom opened up to her describing how she was feeling. The nurse was so understanding and genuinely concerned. I’m not sure how they do it day in and day out, but they really do make a difference.
The other chemo drug is being pumped through a port they call a pic line. They started the drug on Monday. She carries the pump and bag full of chemo in a fannie pack around her waist. This drug is continuously pumped into the port in her upper arm. They say that with this drug slowly going into her system throughout this week, it will minimize the side effects. Tomorrow, the bag will empty and she will come off chemo for almost 3 weeks. One chemo down, one left to go.
Dad picked out a really cool purse a couple of weeks ago that all the nurses and receptionists keep talking about. It’s not only fashionable but functional. It’s huge, kinda like a beach bag which is good with all the medicine, bandages, and spill kit she has to carry. (The chemo is a hazardous material so she has to carry a spill kit just in case the chemo bag or IV lines leak)
So, how’s she feeling?
Monday, she was exhausted after radiation and chemo but glad to have started treatment. As we were finishing up, her nurse said the best medicine was to go home and sleep it off and that’s exactly what she did.
Tuesday was bad. She felt lightheaded, had a horrible headache, and just basically hurt everywhere. It was kinda like the flu a million times over. She called her nurse. Come to find out when on chemo, you have to drink 2 to 3 quarts of water a day and absolutely no caffeine.
Wednesday was much better. She drank plenty of water, resisted coffee, and had a pretty decent day. Her only complaint was she felt like she was having a permanent out of body experience. Around 6:00, she started feeling bad and nauseated.
Thursday morning, she was terribly nauseated and felt horrible again. The pills to help fight nausea were not working so I called her nurse. She called in stronger meds which seemed to help, but all in all Thursday was a pretty rough day.
I spent Monday and Tuesday night with mom. Dad made it home Wednesday around midnight.
I obviously don’t want to talk too much about how I feel, but I guarantee this is the most difficult thing I’ve ever been through. It’s indescribable how you feel watching someone you love so much, suffer so much. I went to the store and bought anything and everything I thought might help. I massaged until she said stop. I brought her water and medicine. I helped her into her pajamas and into the bed. I dabbed her head with a cold washcloth. But as much as I try, nothing takes away the pain.
This is our start. It’s not been all good, not been all bad. We’ve met some pretty amazing people along the road to recovery. Fighting this horrible disease would be impossible on your own, thank God for all the people helping.
She's had radiation treatments every morning this week. It will continue over the next 6 weeks every Monday through Friday. The doctor says she should not experience any side effects from the radiation for a couple of weeks, however her joints in her hips (where they are targeting the radiation) ache. Rubbing helps somewhat. She goes to the hospital for the radiation treatment. We don’t have to fight for parking because the hospital has a free valet service and with all the construction going on at the hospital, that is huge. The same guy meets us every morning with a smile and asks us how we are doing as he takes my keys. He seems so sincere, like he really does care.
In the waiting room, we sit with the same people every morning. The appointments are the same for each person every day. There is one woman probably in her 40’s who like mom, started radiation and chemo this week. Her husband, daughter, and her parents have taken turns bringing her to treatment each day. She has a brain tumor. Her husband says that she has undergone several surgeries and now she’s taking radiation and chemo (pill form). He says that the cancer is an extremely aggressive cancer. While she and mom were back in the treatment room, her husband and I both nearly broke down talking about all we’ve been through in the last few weeks. We both agreed that for us the not knowing was a hundred times worse than the actual diagnosis and treatment. At least that part is over for now.
His wife reminds me of a cute little soccer mom with the best personality and everything to live for. She’s so positive and always grabs my hand each day to connect and reassure me that mom is going to be just fine. She came to radiation today smiling as always but a little off balance. I think the radiation or maybe the chemo is messing with her equilibrium. Another woman began radiation this week. She has breast cancer and has spent the last 9 months going through chemo. The past 4 days of chemo is too much, I can’t imagine 9 months of it. After living through that, I wouldn’t think she’d be scared of anything, but she was nervous right before her first radiation treatment. One guy is gonna finish up this week. I’m not sure what kind of cancer he has but he walks kinda funny. Mom asked today if I thought she’d walk like him at the end of her treatments. I thought to myself, funny walking or not, there's something to be said for making it to the end.
Mom’s radiologist is really cool. She’s probably around my age and is definitely a straight shooter. At an appointment before mom’s radiation began, she sat down explained in detail the cancer and the treatment she has planned. She ordered another test to take a better look at the cancer so she could aim the radiation directly at the tumor. She shows compassion but isn’t overboard. She leaves you feeling confident in that she knows what she’s doing. We saw her again mid week. She gave mom a hug and said “Let’s kill some cancer together.”
Mom got 3 tattoos, one on each hip and the other right on her butt. They’re just little black marks that help the technicians line up the radiation machine. Maybe when it’s all over I can convince her to turn them into flowers, stars, or something. She said getting the little tattoo dots really hurt so she’s probably not up for any more. They also drew lines all over her hips and butt with red and blue permanent markers. (kinda patriotic)
Monday, mom had her first round of chemo at the cancer clinic. When we arrived, the receptionist (someone mom and dad met at church on Sunday) greeted mom with encouraging words. Her doctor and nurses are really laid back and have a way of putting you at ease. They say to call any time mom experiences any side effects. They say chemo isn’t nearly as bad as in year’s past because there are so many meds available to fight off side effects. Mom’s called once and I’ve called a couple of times already. They always call right back, showing concern and ready to help.
Mom’s receiving 2 different kinds of chemo. One was given Monday through an IV at the clinic. It took a little over an hour much better than the 2 to 3 hours they said it would take in chemo class the week before. Some people on different types of chemo take 6 to 7 hours to empty the IV bag, can you imagine? The treatment room has probably 50 recliners or more, most of them were taken Monday afternoon.
There’s a ton of people battling cancer, I never paid much attention until now. You see someone that you think might have cancer or hear of someone that has cancer and you think how sad, but it never really hits you, at least it didn’t for me, until now.
I imagined the treatment room to have a heavy feeling and be totally depressing, but it wasn’t. Every few seconds someone’s IV would start beeping, nurses were busy checking patients, as the patients lounged in the chairs. Some were working, others sleeping, many talking, even laughing, just kinda hanging out. For a split second, I thought of comparing it to the atmosphere at Panera, but naw I wouldn’t go that far. But, it really wasn’t so bad. The nurse taking care of mom was awesome. She of course monitored the IV and all that stuff but also sat down and really talked to mom. Mom opened up to her describing how she was feeling. The nurse was so understanding and genuinely concerned. I’m not sure how they do it day in and day out, but they really do make a difference.
The other chemo drug is being pumped through a port they call a pic line. They started the drug on Monday. She carries the pump and bag full of chemo in a fannie pack around her waist. This drug is continuously pumped into the port in her upper arm. They say that with this drug slowly going into her system throughout this week, it will minimize the side effects. Tomorrow, the bag will empty and she will come off chemo for almost 3 weeks. One chemo down, one left to go.
Dad picked out a really cool purse a couple of weeks ago that all the nurses and receptionists keep talking about. It’s not only fashionable but functional. It’s huge, kinda like a beach bag which is good with all the medicine, bandages, and spill kit she has to carry. (The chemo is a hazardous material so she has to carry a spill kit just in case the chemo bag or IV lines leak)
So, how’s she feeling?
Monday, she was exhausted after radiation and chemo but glad to have started treatment. As we were finishing up, her nurse said the best medicine was to go home and sleep it off and that’s exactly what she did.
Tuesday was bad. She felt lightheaded, had a horrible headache, and just basically hurt everywhere. It was kinda like the flu a million times over. She called her nurse. Come to find out when on chemo, you have to drink 2 to 3 quarts of water a day and absolutely no caffeine.
Wednesday was much better. She drank plenty of water, resisted coffee, and had a pretty decent day. Her only complaint was she felt like she was having a permanent out of body experience. Around 6:00, she started feeling bad and nauseated.
Thursday morning, she was terribly nauseated and felt horrible again. The pills to help fight nausea were not working so I called her nurse. She called in stronger meds which seemed to help, but all in all Thursday was a pretty rough day.
I spent Monday and Tuesday night with mom. Dad made it home Wednesday around midnight.
I obviously don’t want to talk too much about how I feel, but I guarantee this is the most difficult thing I’ve ever been through. It’s indescribable how you feel watching someone you love so much, suffer so much. I went to the store and bought anything and everything I thought might help. I massaged until she said stop. I brought her water and medicine. I helped her into her pajamas and into the bed. I dabbed her head with a cold washcloth. But as much as I try, nothing takes away the pain.
This is our start. It’s not been all good, not been all bad. We’ve met some pretty amazing people along the road to recovery. Fighting this horrible disease would be impossible on your own, thank God for all the people helping.
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