Yesterday my mom made it more than half way through her chemotherapy. It's a fantastic milestone since we didn't think she would continue this far. There are only two more to go and she has started some new medication in order to avoid additional nausea. Of course, she feels fine the day of her treatment and still maintains her energy the next day--- it's that damn third day where it kicks in for her ...or so we thought. Her treatments are getting more arduous and she is losing energy. On the days she feels great, she looks great but on the days where she doesn't feel well, it's heartbreaking to see her. Today is one of those days. It's very early in the morning and my mom is extremely nauseated and sick. I feel helpless. I just don't understand... and I sit here in fear of waiting for her to say, "I'm not doing these treatments anymore."
In the beginning, I planned on attending her chemo treatments with her because as Dr. S, the oncologist said, this will be a breeze. I'd have my Nook, she'd have her Kindle and we would spend quality time together. Again, this is in an attempt to fill the regret I had for not spending enough time with my dad. This didn't quite happen. Actually, I was discouraged from going to the chemo treatments, not by just my mom either but mostly everyone I know. I suppose it makes sense that seeing some of the Cancer patients would have pushed me over the edge -- seeing those people who have lost their hair, anorexic from lack of appetite and pallid may just be more than I can stand. On the flip side, it's worse being at work, trying to concentrate, while knowing my mom is having this poison injected into her (FYI, there is an upside-- the chemo is killing the arthritis in her bad knee and she's having thoughts about becoming a Rockette).
I wish I were more emotionally stable. I don't say that to be cute, it's the truth. Ironically, growing up, crying wasn't my thing. No one ever mistook me for an emotional kid. I was sensitive, but didn't cry unless I was pushed to my limits. After my dad died, everything changed. I know that I won't be able to concentrate at work today knowing how sick she is right now. She'll be the first to admit that she doesn't have a particularly high tolerance for pain which has made this more difficult. It's not even just pain, she can't tolerate being sick at all. My dad's chemo was so much more aggressive (I remember it was 8 hours a day and possibly 5 days a week?? again, I blocked out alot) but he didn't complain so I never knew how bad it was. I actually sit there, watching her like this and wish it were me going through it. It's beginning to take a toll on all of us. Cancer doesn't just affect the patient, it affects the whole family.
There is a line I use quite frequently-- "I want to go to a foreign country and hide under a bed." It's from the greatest TV show of our time (Moonlighting). When I heard it the first time, I was 12. I knew it was a great line but didn't get the true meaning until I got older but it was strong enough to resonate with me all these years. It's selfish. The highest degree of selfishness and an expected response from an only child. I would leave my job, my family and friends to live under a bed in France. Preferably Paris. But, that's our thing-- only children are selfish so I doubt this is shocking. I run away from my problems as best as I can because I can't cope. I know I'm 35 and I need to grow up.... set a better example for my daughter.... but this is sucking the life out of me. The one time support system since we received the news has dwindled. I'm disappointed in that. People are reaching out that I never thought would and those who I though would be there for me, aren't. I don't blame them though. I blame myself for not asking for help... I just didn't think I'd have to do that.
I'll sit here today..... my stomach in knots. Trying to focus and be productive so I don't lose my job. Honestly, fuck my life right now.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
17 down, 16 to go
We knew this day was going to happen. The radiation has started to cause some side affects. Mom is having trouble swallowing and constantly feels as if her stomach is on fire. I can't even begin to imagine what any of these feels like but I can see how tired she in her eyes. I try to do what I can but really, there's not much I can do but give her lots of hugs and love.
Her best day turned out to be my birthday. The pattern has been she gets sick two days after her chemo, but this week she was like a whole new person. She felt great and had no nausea. Even though I assumed I was going to have the worst birthday ever, it turned out to be the best. Seeing my mom up and around, full of live, energy and a strong will to fight this disease was perhaps the best gift I could have had.
It wasn't until last night where she began to feel sick, achy, and tired. I watched my mom take care of my grandparents for years and I don't know how she did it. It's so emotionally draining to watch this and I can understand why mom was so tired. Obviously my grandparents were much more ill than she is but it's still worrisome. Honestly, it's not that taking care of her is alot of work.... It's the stress from worrying that makes you tired.
Today I gave her a card--- it was a superhero "Cancer Vixen." She said she will look at it to remind herself to keep fighting. So far there has not been any talk of her skipping out on chemo Monday which is a 180 from where we were a week ago. She is half way home. I know we are just beginning to climb the mountain. Surgery is going to be brutal but I'm positive she's going to be great (I figure if I say it enough, I'll start to actually believe it).
I'm 35 years old but I still feel like I am her 5 year old little girl. I hug her every chance I get and tell her I love her a thousand times a day. I never get tired of saying it and what mom would get tired of hearing it??? Knowing my dad was terminal, gave me the chance to say everything I wanted to say to him. We knew he had 3 months to live and embraced every second of it. I remember coming home for the weekends to visit, and sitting there holding his hand while we watched TV. I was grateful to have that time with him.
Life can all change in a second and even though I know my mom will be around forever (see, I said it again), I still want her to know how much I love her. ...but someday, when she's recovered and I decide to tell her about this blog, she is going to KICK MY ASS. No joke.
Her best day turned out to be my birthday. The pattern has been she gets sick two days after her chemo, but this week she was like a whole new person. She felt great and had no nausea. Even though I assumed I was going to have the worst birthday ever, it turned out to be the best. Seeing my mom up and around, full of live, energy and a strong will to fight this disease was perhaps the best gift I could have had.
It wasn't until last night where she began to feel sick, achy, and tired. I watched my mom take care of my grandparents for years and I don't know how she did it. It's so emotionally draining to watch this and I can understand why mom was so tired. Obviously my grandparents were much more ill than she is but it's still worrisome. Honestly, it's not that taking care of her is alot of work.... It's the stress from worrying that makes you tired.
Today I gave her a card--- it was a superhero "Cancer Vixen." She said she will look at it to remind herself to keep fighting. So far there has not been any talk of her skipping out on chemo Monday which is a 180 from where we were a week ago. She is half way home. I know we are just beginning to climb the mountain. Surgery is going to be brutal but I'm positive she's going to be great (I figure if I say it enough, I'll start to actually believe it).
I'm 35 years old but I still feel like I am her 5 year old little girl. I hug her every chance I get and tell her I love her a thousand times a day. I never get tired of saying it and what mom would get tired of hearing it??? Knowing my dad was terminal, gave me the chance to say everything I wanted to say to him. We knew he had 3 months to live and embraced every second of it. I remember coming home for the weekends to visit, and sitting there holding his hand while we watched TV. I was grateful to have that time with him.
Life can all change in a second and even though I know my mom will be around forever (see, I said it again), I still want her to know how much I love her. ...but someday, when she's recovered and I decide to tell her about this blog, she is going to KICK MY ASS. No joke.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Diarrhea of the Mouth is Not an Actual Disease
I've been completely honest from day one that I am on a handful of drugs to get me through this and I've gotten shit for it. But I want to start from the beginning to make it clear. I've been on and off antidepressants since my father died. They helped me a great deal to pick myself up out of bed and get on with the day. Not long after his death, I started law school and was introduced to something called a "panic attack." I remember the very first one like it was yesterday. My heart was pounding so fast, I couldn't catch my breathe and for some odd reason, the only place I felt safe was sitting in a closet. Fucked up, I know. Clearly this wasn't depression and I was diagnosed with general anxiety disorder. I went off the meds for a brief period of time because I thought I was OK (it was actually the drugs working). BIG mistake. BIG. My fear of death had quadrupled and a new fear of flying had set in.... So here I am back on pills and I'm not ashamed of it.
Today I had a conversation with a friend who seems to suffer from similar issues and I discussed the pros and cons (mostly pros) of taking a daily medication to assuage the anxiety. If I was diabetic, I would take insulin. It's the same thing to me. I know it's a crutch but it's helping me get through this one day at a time.
Only children have a great deal of time by themselves and tend to fixate on "stuff." Right now I fixate on my mom's disease. When you're alone all the time as an only child, you dwell. It's just what you do because you have no one to talk to so you internalize. Normally, if I have a problem, I talk to my mom but clearly I can't do that now so I internalize which leads to the panic attacks which requires the meds.
Anyway, I digress... My newest drug is Klonipin. I've had it before but my dosage has been raised. It's a drug that I can take and still drive so it's not as hardcore as Xanax. I never take any meds (except my daily one) while my daughter is in my care and I tend not to drive on the Klonipin, just to be safe. No matter what, I am responsible with them because I have my daughter to take care of and she is my number one priority. But recently, I have experience a side affect from this drug that I was NOT anticipating and this was too good not to share.
I tend to talk and talk and talk on a normal basis but Klonipin causes me to have NO filter at all. Once the thought pops in my head, it comes out my mouth instantly. It's something you need to be careful with for sure and after a fun text message tete a tete with a friend, I realized that I need to filter myself more and NOT share my inner thoughts. Fortunately, it was a friend that doesn't take me too seriously but also thinks I'm funny as shit so it was fun and harmless. I simply shared information that should have been kept on the inside and not the outside.... I was briefly mortified of my diarrhea of the mouth but then I had another Aha! moment.
Life is too fucking short. I am going to say what I want to say (short of hurting someone's feelings). If I have something to say, I am going to say it. Surprisingly, I do have a filter at times. But you know what? Fuck that shit. I'm not going to hold back anymore. Honestly, it's not about hurting feelings or being inappropriate, it's about being honest about what I'm thinking. This makes life more fun and a hell of a lot more interesting.
My mom always said that it wasn't necessary to express every thought I have the second I have it but, again, fuck that shit. I get one life and I'm not holding back anymore. Next, Donnie Wahlberg better watch out Friday because I have LOTS to say.
Today I had a conversation with a friend who seems to suffer from similar issues and I discussed the pros and cons (mostly pros) of taking a daily medication to assuage the anxiety. If I was diabetic, I would take insulin. It's the same thing to me. I know it's a crutch but it's helping me get through this one day at a time.
Only children have a great deal of time by themselves and tend to fixate on "stuff." Right now I fixate on my mom's disease. When you're alone all the time as an only child, you dwell. It's just what you do because you have no one to talk to so you internalize. Normally, if I have a problem, I talk to my mom but clearly I can't do that now so I internalize which leads to the panic attacks which requires the meds.
Anyway, I digress... My newest drug is Klonipin. I've had it before but my dosage has been raised. It's a drug that I can take and still drive so it's not as hardcore as Xanax. I never take any meds (except my daily one) while my daughter is in my care and I tend not to drive on the Klonipin, just to be safe. No matter what, I am responsible with them because I have my daughter to take care of and she is my number one priority. But recently, I have experience a side affect from this drug that I was NOT anticipating and this was too good not to share.
I tend to talk and talk and talk on a normal basis but Klonipin causes me to have NO filter at all. Once the thought pops in my head, it comes out my mouth instantly. It's something you need to be careful with for sure and after a fun text message tete a tete with a friend, I realized that I need to filter myself more and NOT share my inner thoughts. Fortunately, it was a friend that doesn't take me too seriously but also thinks I'm funny as shit so it was fun and harmless. I simply shared information that should have been kept on the inside and not the outside.... I was briefly mortified of my diarrhea of the mouth but then I had another Aha! moment.
Life is too fucking short. I am going to say what I want to say (short of hurting someone's feelings). If I have something to say, I am going to say it. Surprisingly, I do have a filter at times. But you know what? Fuck that shit. I'm not going to hold back anymore. Honestly, it's not about hurting feelings or being inappropriate, it's about being honest about what I'm thinking. This makes life more fun and a hell of a lot more interesting.
My mom always said that it wasn't necessary to express every thought I have the second I have it but, again, fuck that shit. I get one life and I'm not holding back anymore. Next, Donnie Wahlberg better watch out Friday because I have LOTS to say.
Remember to Breathe
My day is best described by these sage words from a poet of our generation, "Today was a good day"- Ice Cube. I am able to breathe because I witnessed first hand how bad this battle can be and how much worse it's going to get but I'm ready to take it head on. But, for now, mom looks great and feels great. She always does well on chemo day. It's always the days that follow which are the most difficult. Tonight, she was herself and for that, it was a good day. Even at 34 (it's not here yet), I'm not ashamed to admit that I had my head in her lap while she stroked my hair. I fell asleep for a short time but it was the happiest I've been in weeks and I was able to exhale. For now I am going to be thankful for today, because it was a good day.
Surprisingly, there has been a great deal of feedback from friends about the blog and I promised to inject some "non-Cancer " stuff in here. This is such an only child thing--- but we THRIVE on piling on as much stress as we possibly can. Amongst my every day normal work/being a mom stress, I'm also moving and helping my mom fight a Cancer battle. So clearly I thought now would be a PERFECT time to try a crazy restrictive diet which cuts out some of my favorite things-- cake, diet coke and wine.
I am on the tail end of the detox phase. In 36 hours, I am going to have the biggest glass of diet coke I can. I may go to 7-11 to purchase the largest Big Gulp they have. I'm going to bathe in it. I can say that I've lost 6 lbs in the last 8 days which is pretty amazing but I am living on salad, rice, beans and yogurt. Oh, and water, you can't forget water. YUM! Am I fucking crazy? In the last 6 weeks, I gained about 10 lbs. I was eating my sadness and stress away. It took me nine months or so to lose the SIXTY POUNDS I gained from being pregnant and I was going to be damned if I was going to gain any of that shit back.
Did I mention I can't eat meat? Yeah- no meat. If I was vegetarian, I'd be miserable. I want a burger all the time. When I watch Rachel Zoe I get hungry.... because you know that bitch is starving. Come on. So I timed this 9 day detox to end the day before my birthday on the off chance that someone planned a big bash for me. A friend of mine tonight told me that he's going to get drunk and throw up on his birthday. I laughed but it sounds like a good idea.
Getting back to the diet.....Sure, it's working but it's the worst diet out there. I'm hungry all the time. I really thought around day 4 I was going to die. Actually, I was convinced I was going to die. Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you-- there's no coffee either. Do you know that withdrawal from Dunkin Donuts turbo iced coffees make you feel like your brain is bleeding? Yup. I think my brain swelled and nearly exploded because the pain was almost unbearable.
As I write this, I'm watching my darling husband eat a brownie. Nice right? I'm sure tomorrow night he'll have Chinese food to go out with a bang. When I'm on a diet, he fends for himself so I've been able to sit and watch him eat burgers and fries, ice cream, pasta... all the foods I would kill for right now. But I had to prove I give it all up and I did.... and it was a STUPID-ASS idea.
Surprisingly, there has been a great deal of feedback from friends about the blog and I promised to inject some "non-Cancer " stuff in here. This is such an only child thing--- but we THRIVE on piling on as much stress as we possibly can. Amongst my every day normal work/being a mom stress, I'm also moving and helping my mom fight a Cancer battle. So clearly I thought now would be a PERFECT time to try a crazy restrictive diet which cuts out some of my favorite things-- cake, diet coke and wine.
I am on the tail end of the detox phase. In 36 hours, I am going to have the biggest glass of diet coke I can. I may go to 7-11 to purchase the largest Big Gulp they have. I'm going to bathe in it. I can say that I've lost 6 lbs in the last 8 days which is pretty amazing but I am living on salad, rice, beans and yogurt. Oh, and water, you can't forget water. YUM! Am I fucking crazy? In the last 6 weeks, I gained about 10 lbs. I was eating my sadness and stress away. It took me nine months or so to lose the SIXTY POUNDS I gained from being pregnant and I was going to be damned if I was going to gain any of that shit back.
Did I mention I can't eat meat? Yeah- no meat. If I was vegetarian, I'd be miserable. I want a burger all the time. When I watch Rachel Zoe I get hungry.... because you know that bitch is starving. Come on. So I timed this 9 day detox to end the day before my birthday on the off chance that someone planned a big bash for me. A friend of mine tonight told me that he's going to get drunk and throw up on his birthday. I laughed but it sounds like a good idea.
Getting back to the diet.....Sure, it's working but it's the worst diet out there. I'm hungry all the time. I really thought around day 4 I was going to die. Actually, I was convinced I was going to die. Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you-- there's no coffee either. Do you know that withdrawal from Dunkin Donuts turbo iced coffees make you feel like your brain is bleeding? Yup. I think my brain swelled and nearly exploded because the pain was almost unbearable.
As I write this, I'm watching my darling husband eat a brownie. Nice right? I'm sure tomorrow night he'll have Chinese food to go out with a bang. When I'm on a diet, he fends for himself so I've been able to sit and watch him eat burgers and fries, ice cream, pasta... all the foods I would kill for right now. But I had to prove I give it all up and I did.... and it was a STUPID-ASS idea.
Monday, August 23, 2010
What the Fuck?
Treatment number two didn't go well at all..... not AT ALL. Mom was really sick and still they are not sure what caused it. Her nausea and vomiting were not typical of those patients undergoing chemotherapy. Although her oncologist, Dr.S, can't say 100% for sure it was not chemo related he has changed her chemo drugs and other medication around. We're hoping for a better result this week. But let's back up, shall we?
Friday mom was admitted into the hospital with severe stomach pain, nausea and vomiting. The scene was reminiscent of when I had to take her to the emergency room 6 weeks ago before we learned of her Cancer diagnosis. She was in excruciating pain along with the nausea and nothing helped. Once in a room, we were lucky enough to have Doogie Howser, M.D. come in to see her and ask her a million questions ("Um, how do you spell Dr.X's name? " Are you fucking kidding me right now?). She was given enough Morphine and Ativan to render a T-Rex unconscious and slept well for the night.
Saturday afternoon she was released but her stomach was still upset. She continued to sleep and rest. I thought all was well. We were all, doctors included, under the the belief this stomach issue was completely independent from the Cancer treatment. All of us except for mom, that is. In the midst of her drugged out rants she claimed she was not going to continue to treatment. Yeah, yeah. OK, whatever you say mom. Just get some rest.
I was woken up very early Sunday morning by mom to say we had company. It's 8 am. It's Sunday. Who the hell is coming to the house? When I come upstairs, I find my aunt on the couch with my mom. My aunt is sobbing. Clearly I thought someone died-- I'm Italian so that's the first thing I always thing of. Well, no one died. Not yet anyway....
My mother proceeded to tell me that she was not going to fight the Cancer. That she was going to give up. She has a Cancer diagnosis that most Cancer patients dream of-- Stage I, lymph nodes unaffected, not metastasized..... and she was going to just say, I'm all set. Well, fuck you, I don't think so. I tried everything. We all tried everything. I remained calm, in her presence of course. I spoke to her rationally, but as you know, you can't rationalize with irrational people so that didn't work very well. I started to well up a bit and told her I refuse to deal with bullshit and with that, I went back down to my little cave.
I slammed the bedroom door shut and cried. I cried so much and so hard that I think the neighbors heard me. I can tell you my mom heard..... The release was therapeutic. Most definitely it was the nervous breakdown that I was anticipating. Oh man, it was a good cry. It was one of those cries where you are hyperventilating and can't speak. My face was all red and my contacts came out on their own.... It was a GOOD cry. But, my husband gave me a xanax and calmed me down. At one point, I looked over at him and in 6 1/2 years, I've never seen him cry (other than the movie "Rudy" of course....) and he was crying. Sure, it wasn't the same. It was that "guy" cry-- you know, when their eyes well up and they start sniffling saying "I have something in my eye." But still.... we went through the death of his own mother and nothing. I thought he had ice running through his veins but I was wrong. I can tell you at that moment, our relationship changed forever and I began to understand marriage in a whole new way.
I am happy to report that we convinced her to go to one more chemo treatment. She is there now and after today she will be half way home. I don't know who out there prays, but if you do, I ask that you put in a good word. She CANNOT get sick like that again this week or she will give up. I don't know if we will be able to convince her to do another week. Right now she's there, not against her will, but to fight hard for her daughter, her husband, her granddaughter and the rest of the family.
As for me, I am pissed at her but I love her. I will continue to take care of her and support her. She's my mom. I can't imagine life without her, at least not now. We all knew this would be hard but we're trying the best we can to keep it together.
Friday mom was admitted into the hospital with severe stomach pain, nausea and vomiting. The scene was reminiscent of when I had to take her to the emergency room 6 weeks ago before we learned of her Cancer diagnosis. She was in excruciating pain along with the nausea and nothing helped. Once in a room, we were lucky enough to have Doogie Howser, M.D. come in to see her and ask her a million questions ("Um, how do you spell Dr.X's name? " Are you fucking kidding me right now?). She was given enough Morphine and Ativan to render a T-Rex unconscious and slept well for the night.
Saturday afternoon she was released but her stomach was still upset. She continued to sleep and rest. I thought all was well. We were all, doctors included, under the the belief this stomach issue was completely independent from the Cancer treatment. All of us except for mom, that is. In the midst of her drugged out rants she claimed she was not going to continue to treatment. Yeah, yeah. OK, whatever you say mom. Just get some rest.
I was woken up very early Sunday morning by mom to say we had company. It's 8 am. It's Sunday. Who the hell is coming to the house? When I come upstairs, I find my aunt on the couch with my mom. My aunt is sobbing. Clearly I thought someone died-- I'm Italian so that's the first thing I always thing of. Well, no one died. Not yet anyway....
My mother proceeded to tell me that she was not going to fight the Cancer. That she was going to give up. She has a Cancer diagnosis that most Cancer patients dream of-- Stage I, lymph nodes unaffected, not metastasized..... and she was going to just say, I'm all set. Well, fuck you, I don't think so. I tried everything. We all tried everything. I remained calm, in her presence of course. I spoke to her rationally, but as you know, you can't rationalize with irrational people so that didn't work very well. I started to well up a bit and told her I refuse to deal with bullshit and with that, I went back down to my little cave.
I slammed the bedroom door shut and cried. I cried so much and so hard that I think the neighbors heard me. I can tell you my mom heard..... The release was therapeutic. Most definitely it was the nervous breakdown that I was anticipating. Oh man, it was a good cry. It was one of those cries where you are hyperventilating and can't speak. My face was all red and my contacts came out on their own.... It was a GOOD cry. But, my husband gave me a xanax and calmed me down. At one point, I looked over at him and in 6 1/2 years, I've never seen him cry (other than the movie "Rudy" of course....) and he was crying. Sure, it wasn't the same. It was that "guy" cry-- you know, when their eyes well up and they start sniffling saying "I have something in my eye." But still.... we went through the death of his own mother and nothing. I thought he had ice running through his veins but I was wrong. I can tell you at that moment, our relationship changed forever and I began to understand marriage in a whole new way.
I am happy to report that we convinced her to go to one more chemo treatment. She is there now and after today she will be half way home. I don't know who out there prays, but if you do, I ask that you put in a good word. She CANNOT get sick like that again this week or she will give up. I don't know if we will be able to convince her to do another week. Right now she's there, not against her will, but to fight hard for her daughter, her husband, her granddaughter and the rest of the family.
As for me, I am pissed at her but I love her. I will continue to take care of her and support her. She's my mom. I can't imagine life without her, at least not now. We all knew this would be hard but we're trying the best we can to keep it together.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Got Wahlberg?
It's starts off at an early age.... self soothing. In the case of my daughter, she has her pacifier and her favorite stuffed animal. When she's crying and miserable from teething or even if she's being a cranky pants, these two things make her feel better (along with kisses from mommy). For me, it also started with a pacifier then I moved on to a stuffed Minnie Mouse and eased into my early career as a stylist by spending hours dressing Barbie. My choices of comfort changed as I matured-- for the most part.
I remember when I saw him for the first time. I was 14, he was 19. It's a cliche, but I really did spot him across a crowded room, except he was on a stage. To me, Donnie Wahlberg was the perfect model of a man and listening to the music of New Kids on the Block was just pure, innocent fun. Going to their concerts and hanging up Donnie posters in my room was just FUN. It's what being a teenage girl is all about. It's a time in your life where you can either be a kid or try to be an adult. Sure there's stress, but it's teenager stress. I truly wish I had the problems I had when I was 14. 5 guys from Boston became my teen idols and stole my heart.
They say all good things must come to an end, and they do. I got older, the group split up and that was that... Or so I thought! Suddenly, without warning, there they were. I have a clear memory of watching their come back on the Today show, singing along to "Step By Step," getting goosebumps and jumping off the sofa with excitement..... but something was different this time. I wasn't 14 anymore! I could go wherever or pay whatever to see them because I was an adult! I soaked up this reunion like a sponge, and I haven't stopped. I don't shy away from my fan love (although some call it obsession), I embrace it.
This is my self soothing. Donnie makes me happy because he makes me feel like I'm 14 all over again. I don't know what it is about him, or even the group-- let's face it, I don't go to the concerts to hear them sing. I'm a realist, they aren't musical geniuses. When I'm in the midst of a concert, I'm no one's wife or mom. I'm a kid. I have no problems..... my mom isn't battling Cancer. I'm happy, dancing, singing.....
It's not a secret how sad I've been. So when the announcement of another New Kids cruise came out, I jumped at the chance. I secured my cabin with the girls and now I am counting down the days. Literally. Before I knew it, there was a rumor, then a rumble, then a tweet--- "Donnie Wahlberg's Birthday party -- VIP tickets on sale." Am I going? Hell yeah. Last year I celebrated his birthday with him, VIP style (which happened to fall on MY birthday-- see, I told you I celebrate big!), and I got a kiss. So why would I not go this year? It's going to be amazing and I'll be able to just breathe for a night. I have every intention of going and having a great time. Release some of this stress that I've been bottling up inside of me.
Danny, Donnie, Jordan, Joe and Jon are my guilty pleasure. My solace.
I remember when I saw him for the first time. I was 14, he was 19. It's a cliche, but I really did spot him across a crowded room, except he was on a stage. To me, Donnie Wahlberg was the perfect model of a man and listening to the music of New Kids on the Block was just pure, innocent fun. Going to their concerts and hanging up Donnie posters in my room was just FUN. It's what being a teenage girl is all about. It's a time in your life where you can either be a kid or try to be an adult. Sure there's stress, but it's teenager stress. I truly wish I had the problems I had when I was 14. 5 guys from Boston became my teen idols and stole my heart.
They say all good things must come to an end, and they do. I got older, the group split up and that was that... Or so I thought! Suddenly, without warning, there they were. I have a clear memory of watching their come back on the Today show, singing along to "Step By Step," getting goosebumps and jumping off the sofa with excitement..... but something was different this time. I wasn't 14 anymore! I could go wherever or pay whatever to see them because I was an adult! I soaked up this reunion like a sponge, and I haven't stopped. I don't shy away from my fan love (although some call it obsession), I embrace it.
This is my self soothing. Donnie makes me happy because he makes me feel like I'm 14 all over again. I don't know what it is about him, or even the group-- let's face it, I don't go to the concerts to hear them sing. I'm a realist, they aren't musical geniuses. When I'm in the midst of a concert, I'm no one's wife or mom. I'm a kid. I have no problems..... my mom isn't battling Cancer. I'm happy, dancing, singing.....
It's not a secret how sad I've been. So when the announcement of another New Kids cruise came out, I jumped at the chance. I secured my cabin with the girls and now I am counting down the days. Literally. Before I knew it, there was a rumor, then a rumble, then a tweet--- "Donnie Wahlberg's Birthday party -- VIP tickets on sale." Am I going? Hell yeah. Last year I celebrated his birthday with him, VIP style (which happened to fall on MY birthday-- see, I told you I celebrate big!), and I got a kiss. So why would I not go this year? It's going to be amazing and I'll be able to just breathe for a night. I have every intention of going and having a great time. Release some of this stress that I've been bottling up inside of me.
Danny, Donnie, Jordan, Joe and Jon are my guilty pleasure. My solace.
Sending Positive Vibes
Chemo treatment number two has been successfully completed at this point, but unfortunately the patient is not doing as well this time around. The "wonder" nausea drugs don't seem to be working as amazingly as they were before. Hopefully her fatigue and nausea will only last 24-48 hours this time. I've NEVER been able to handle my mom being sick-- even with a cold. Clearly, this only got worse after my dad got sick and died but you can add that statement after just about everything in my life.
Again, I believe the reason I hate seeing mom sick is another only child characteristic. Being an only child, your mom is your world. She's your rock for everything. My mom is my best friend and knows 100% of anything that goes in my life (of course I edit those things that I don't think she wants to know...sometimes). I don't think it's a mother daughter thing either.... I know this holds true for male only children-- based on experience. When there's only you, you are the only thing your mother lives and breathes for. There is nothing else. Her life revolves around you. Clearly, all mothers are like that with their children but it's not the same when you have only one to focus on.... it just isn't. I'm a mom to an only child and I can see myself developing these same feelings.
It's difficult to see her like this and makes me wonder what is going to happen in the up coming weeks. Is she going to get weaker? Probably. I don't mean to paint a picture of a gaunt, pale woman who can barely move. To look at her, you wouldn't know she was sick. She looks awesome-- much better than I do right now. So, I continue to pretend to remain positive around her.
Since I mentioned it, let's talk about this "positive attitude" bullshit. Yes, I agree that my mom and the rest of us need to stay positive because a positive attitude is what helps beat this horrific, miserable disease. I'm not a positive person. It's not a big secret but I can't change who I am after 35 years. I have seriously repressed emotion and memories from my dad's illness but as I've mentioned before, I was POSITIVE he wasn't going to die and we were going to add his name to the list of Cancer survivors. That didn't really work out too well for me the first time around so it's hard to rally. Part of the problem with my dad was he thought he was going to die. I don't recall him ever being positive about beating this disease. Overall, dad wasn't a glass is half full kind of guy-- clearly, I'm my father's daughter.
He was a fighter-- and tried hard to beat it but the Cancer was too far advanced that now I begin to think his fight was never going to be strong enough to beat the speed of how quickly the tumors grew and spread. Mom is a fighter too and her attitude is better than dad's was (and mine).
I think last night it just hit me hard for some reason--- and I realized that I am pretty much hanging off a ledge. I've worn myself down already from stress and worrying... literally to the point where I don't want to get out of bed in the morning. My saving grace? My daughter. I know that someone is depending on me now to take care of them so I force myself out of my bed and I face the day with a smile.... until I get to work or go run errands or pretty much any time I'm alone. Then I zone out.
I can't say that I've been curled up in the fetal position crying, but I sit with a blank stare. I literally think my brain is too full with noise to think. In typical only child fashion, I've taken my mom's illness and brought it back to me. It's selfish of me to be sitting here complaining about how sad and tired I am when I'm not the one fighting. It is my worst trait but I have perfected hiding it. I think?
Again, I believe the reason I hate seeing mom sick is another only child characteristic. Being an only child, your mom is your world. She's your rock for everything. My mom is my best friend and knows 100% of anything that goes in my life (of course I edit those things that I don't think she wants to know...sometimes). I don't think it's a mother daughter thing either.... I know this holds true for male only children-- based on experience. When there's only you, you are the only thing your mother lives and breathes for. There is nothing else. Her life revolves around you. Clearly, all mothers are like that with their children but it's not the same when you have only one to focus on.... it just isn't. I'm a mom to an only child and I can see myself developing these same feelings.
It's difficult to see her like this and makes me wonder what is going to happen in the up coming weeks. Is she going to get weaker? Probably. I don't mean to paint a picture of a gaunt, pale woman who can barely move. To look at her, you wouldn't know she was sick. She looks awesome-- much better than I do right now. So, I continue to pretend to remain positive around her.
Since I mentioned it, let's talk about this "positive attitude" bullshit. Yes, I agree that my mom and the rest of us need to stay positive because a positive attitude is what helps beat this horrific, miserable disease. I'm not a positive person. It's not a big secret but I can't change who I am after 35 years. I have seriously repressed emotion and memories from my dad's illness but as I've mentioned before, I was POSITIVE he wasn't going to die and we were going to add his name to the list of Cancer survivors. That didn't really work out too well for me the first time around so it's hard to rally. Part of the problem with my dad was he thought he was going to die. I don't recall him ever being positive about beating this disease. Overall, dad wasn't a glass is half full kind of guy-- clearly, I'm my father's daughter.
He was a fighter-- and tried hard to beat it but the Cancer was too far advanced that now I begin to think his fight was never going to be strong enough to beat the speed of how quickly the tumors grew and spread. Mom is a fighter too and her attitude is better than dad's was (and mine).
I think last night it just hit me hard for some reason--- and I realized that I am pretty much hanging off a ledge. I've worn myself down already from stress and worrying... literally to the point where I don't want to get out of bed in the morning. My saving grace? My daughter. I know that someone is depending on me now to take care of them so I force myself out of my bed and I face the day with a smile.... until I get to work or go run errands or pretty much any time I'm alone. Then I zone out.
I can't say that I've been curled up in the fetal position crying, but I sit with a blank stare. I literally think my brain is too full with noise to think. In typical only child fashion, I've taken my mom's illness and brought it back to me. It's selfish of me to be sitting here complaining about how sad and tired I am when I'm not the one fighting. It is my worst trait but I have perfected hiding it. I think?
Monday, August 16, 2010
My Aha! Moment
Since my mom's diagnosis, I've read books and blogs and pamphlets and web pages and everything else you can imagine in order to become the greatest authority on Esophageal Cancer. It wasn't easy to stay away from the statistics (which are bleak) but I focused only on Stage I related information. Since my husband imposed a moratorium on my use of WebMD or even that fun Mayo Clinic site, I was able to gather a great deal of information. My type A personality has completely taken over now--- because there is a BINDER. I have collected articles as well as the literature my mom's team of doctor's have given her. Clearly, she has strict instructions from me to ask for any additional reading material when she sees her doctors. It's good for me to be in the know.
Now, this isn't my first time at the rodeo. I know how this Cancer thing works first hand but I just kept digging to find more information. Then as I was organizing my binder I realized something very important--- I am overcompensating. I don't even think overcompensating fully describes what I'm doing-- I'm going to extremes.
When my dad was diagnosed with Cancer, I was 20 years old. He wasn't going to die because I was too young to have my dad die, obviously. He had to walk me down the aisle right? Dad's don't die before you get married-- because they have to walk you down the aisle. I focused on this a lot... I remember when the doctor gave us the news, I cried because well, that's what you do. But I heard phrases like "Stage IV" and "inoperable" and "spread fast" but then I was told he had an 89% chance of survival. So I focused on this statistic and listened to the doctor's positive attitude. From what I know NOW, Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma in Stage IV is pretty aggressive. But I was so focused on being positive and know that it was impossible for my dad to die.
I paid no attention to how big the tumor was or how sick chemo was making him. I also didn't think anything about the hair loss... or that he couldn't keep warm.... or that he had to retire... or that he couldn't drive anymore.... or that he wasn't eating. Nope, instead, I went to class or shopping with my friends. On the weekends, instead of going home to visit I partied with my friends because I was 20 and my father wasn't going to die.
Things looked OK for a while.... Then we got the news he was terminal. Hmmph. How can that be possible? He had a 89% chance of survival now they were giving him three months to live. Here I was, getting ready to graduate from college and my dad told me he was going to die. That there was nothing they could do at this point. I truly didn't understand. I kept hope alive that he was going to at least be here for graduation. He was alive but couldn't make it. He died 4 days later.
I blamed everyone around me who knew more than I did. I never understood how sick he really was. The Internet was up and running, so I'm sure I could have found some information but the easiest way would have been to open my eyes and ask questions. I didn't know what to do until it was too late.
Well, I'm much older and wiser now. I ask too many questions and read too much material but I can't be blindsided again. Too much information can be a bad thing --- no doubt about it. I didn't know anything when my dad was sick, which was my own fault so this time around I need to know EVERYTHING. I want to be prepared. My mom has pretty much told me I'm driving her crazy so I know I need to lay off.
My research has paid off in some ways. I now know that Stage I recovery is much better than Stage IV. I hold on to that hope but it's hard to be positive after what I've already lived through. I try to be positive and now that I've had this Aha! moment, then maybe I'll lay off the Internet.... at least for a little while.
Now, this isn't my first time at the rodeo. I know how this Cancer thing works first hand but I just kept digging to find more information. Then as I was organizing my binder I realized something very important--- I am overcompensating. I don't even think overcompensating fully describes what I'm doing-- I'm going to extremes.
When my dad was diagnosed with Cancer, I was 20 years old. He wasn't going to die because I was too young to have my dad die, obviously. He had to walk me down the aisle right? Dad's don't die before you get married-- because they have to walk you down the aisle. I focused on this a lot... I remember when the doctor gave us the news, I cried because well, that's what you do. But I heard phrases like "Stage IV" and "inoperable" and "spread fast" but then I was told he had an 89% chance of survival. So I focused on this statistic and listened to the doctor's positive attitude. From what I know NOW, Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma in Stage IV is pretty aggressive. But I was so focused on being positive and know that it was impossible for my dad to die.
I paid no attention to how big the tumor was or how sick chemo was making him. I also didn't think anything about the hair loss... or that he couldn't keep warm.... or that he had to retire... or that he couldn't drive anymore.... or that he wasn't eating. Nope, instead, I went to class or shopping with my friends. On the weekends, instead of going home to visit I partied with my friends because I was 20 and my father wasn't going to die.
Things looked OK for a while.... Then we got the news he was terminal. Hmmph. How can that be possible? He had a 89% chance of survival now they were giving him three months to live. Here I was, getting ready to graduate from college and my dad told me he was going to die. That there was nothing they could do at this point. I truly didn't understand. I kept hope alive that he was going to at least be here for graduation. He was alive but couldn't make it. He died 4 days later.
I blamed everyone around me who knew more than I did. I never understood how sick he really was. The Internet was up and running, so I'm sure I could have found some information but the easiest way would have been to open my eyes and ask questions. I didn't know what to do until it was too late.
Well, I'm much older and wiser now. I ask too many questions and read too much material but I can't be blindsided again. Too much information can be a bad thing --- no doubt about it. I didn't know anything when my dad was sick, which was my own fault so this time around I need to know EVERYTHING. I want to be prepared. My mom has pretty much told me I'm driving her crazy so I know I need to lay off.
My research has paid off in some ways. I now know that Stage I recovery is much better than Stage IV. I hold on to that hope but it's hard to be positive after what I've already lived through. I try to be positive and now that I've had this Aha! moment, then maybe I'll lay off the Internet.... at least for a little while.
Is this Italian guilt or just plain, old guilt?
In the last week, I've had some pretty exciting things happen to me. The house we've been building for the past 10 months is ready to become a home. Living in my mom's basement has been.... an experience. Although I appreciate all that she's done, it's not easy to go back home at 34 with your husband and a daughter. The closet of my dreams is complete. It looks amazing and I feel like a much cuter version of Carrie Bradshaw when I stand in it. Only difference will be instead of Manolos, my shoe rack will display Louboutins.
When I thought it couldn't get any more exciting, it did. I was able to book a cabin on the NKOTB cruise for May of next year. I'm not ashamed, I embrace my love for Donnie Wahlberg. Even though I thought it was going to be a once in a life time experience, it turns out this will be my second time going.
And what's the most exciting thing?? My birthday is coming up. Every only child (at least everyone I know) makes a HUGE deal about their birthday. Just because you get older doesn't mean the parties stop. I've been celebrating big on my birthday for years. It's not just a day of celebration.... It's a week... or even a whole month depending on the activities. My mom has always made my birthday the most special day EVER and she has never missed a year. I'm sure this year will be no different.
Here's the problem.... I can't get in the mood to celebrate. I've lost track of how many days until my birthday. I don't even have PLANS for my birthday. Layer that with how I feel terrible I'm moving out of this basement.... Or even taking this cruise. I shouldn't be happy, I should be sad. When my mind starts to wander from worrying about my mom, and I think about what I should be thinking about (ie. plan on how to decorate or what I'll say to Donnie when I see him AGAIN) I feel guilty. Not just a little guilty, but enough guilt that it drives me to the point of tears. I don't have the right to be happy right now-- it's not a happy time. Right?
How can I move out when my mom needs me to take care of her (even though I have been literally kicked out upstairs for being too depressing to look at)? I'm her only child, she needs me and now I'm leaving her. I'm moving only minutes away but it's not the same. When she got sick and needed to go to the emergency room, I was the only one there who could take her.... What happens now if she happens to be alone? It's rare that she is alone but again, what if??
The guilt is terrible.... it eats away at me like a tiny gnat. I really want to be excited about all these things but I feel so selfish. It feels unfair to be happy when I know I should be sad. Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty sad 85% of the time. I try to hide it best I can when I'm in a social environment but I'm sad. Oh and scared, let's not forget scared.
It's hard enough to be an only child and balance this guilt, but with my ethnic background contributing, it's almost unmanageable. I'm probably on the verge of a nervous breakdown of epic proportion. Clearly, I'm my own worst enemy but aren't we all?
When I thought it couldn't get any more exciting, it did. I was able to book a cabin on the NKOTB cruise for May of next year. I'm not ashamed, I embrace my love for Donnie Wahlberg. Even though I thought it was going to be a once in a life time experience, it turns out this will be my second time going.
And what's the most exciting thing?? My birthday is coming up. Every only child (at least everyone I know) makes a HUGE deal about their birthday. Just because you get older doesn't mean the parties stop. I've been celebrating big on my birthday for years. It's not just a day of celebration.... It's a week... or even a whole month depending on the activities. My mom has always made my birthday the most special day EVER and she has never missed a year. I'm sure this year will be no different.
Here's the problem.... I can't get in the mood to celebrate. I've lost track of how many days until my birthday. I don't even have PLANS for my birthday. Layer that with how I feel terrible I'm moving out of this basement.... Or even taking this cruise. I shouldn't be happy, I should be sad. When my mind starts to wander from worrying about my mom, and I think about what I should be thinking about (ie. plan on how to decorate or what I'll say to Donnie when I see him AGAIN) I feel guilty. Not just a little guilty, but enough guilt that it drives me to the point of tears. I don't have the right to be happy right now-- it's not a happy time. Right?
How can I move out when my mom needs me to take care of her (even though I have been literally kicked out upstairs for being too depressing to look at)? I'm her only child, she needs me and now I'm leaving her. I'm moving only minutes away but it's not the same. When she got sick and needed to go to the emergency room, I was the only one there who could take her.... What happens now if she happens to be alone? It's rare that she is alone but again, what if??
The guilt is terrible.... it eats away at me like a tiny gnat. I really want to be excited about all these things but I feel so selfish. It feels unfair to be happy when I know I should be sad. Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty sad 85% of the time. I try to hide it best I can when I'm in a social environment but I'm sad. Oh and scared, let's not forget scared.
It's hard enough to be an only child and balance this guilt, but with my ethnic background contributing, it's almost unmanageable. I'm probably on the verge of a nervous breakdown of epic proportion. Clearly, I'm my own worst enemy but aren't we all?
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Helpless, Party of One
Sadly the miraculous chemo recovery lasts about 6 minutes. Since yesterday, mom's been getting increasingly weak, tired and battling severe stomach upset. She promised to ask for help if she needs it but the problem is, she WON'T ask for help. She won't even be honest about how she feels. When you ask, the response is always, "Oh, I'm just fine." Does just fine mean you sleep for hours at a time? Or that you have no appetite? I think not.
We are berated by her when we ask her what she needs or how she feels. Instead, we just sit there. My daughter is the only thing which appears to bring her some type of happiness but after about 10 minutes, she's too weak to play with her.
I feel helpless..... I want to do what I can to make her feel better but there's nothing I can do, and if there was she wouldn't tell me. I know that part of me is trying to overcompensate for my total absence during my father's illness. Sure, I was away at college but I was less than an hour away. My mom nursed him day and night while I was in Boston having a great time with my friends. I have many, many. many regrets about how I handled my father's illness. I should have done more.
My time here at this house is limited. We're scheduled to move into our new house before the end of the month and now is my time to try and help her. She isn't alone by any means but I feel useless. Even if I could help, let's not forget, she LIES. She is the WORST patient-- but I am sure nurses make the worst patients. They can take care of themselves and they don't need any help. But they're wrong.
It gives me knots in my stomach.... I wonder what's going to happen after her next chemo treatment on Tuesday. My husband tells me I need to stop worrying about things I can't control--- but that's not me. I need to control everything. I'm an only child -- that's what we fucking do. We try to control everything and make it work how we want it to be.
So what are my options? I don't know. I try to be a mom in the midst of all this but I can guarantee if I were to be graded right now I'd get a C... or maybe a C+. I have a great deal of things going on in my life that I should be excited about it but I'm not. I just feel helpless and sad....
We are berated by her when we ask her what she needs or how she feels. Instead, we just sit there. My daughter is the only thing which appears to bring her some type of happiness but after about 10 minutes, she's too weak to play with her.
I feel helpless..... I want to do what I can to make her feel better but there's nothing I can do, and if there was she wouldn't tell me. I know that part of me is trying to overcompensate for my total absence during my father's illness. Sure, I was away at college but I was less than an hour away. My mom nursed him day and night while I was in Boston having a great time with my friends. I have many, many. many regrets about how I handled my father's illness. I should have done more.
My time here at this house is limited. We're scheduled to move into our new house before the end of the month and now is my time to try and help her. She isn't alone by any means but I feel useless. Even if I could help, let's not forget, she LIES. She is the WORST patient-- but I am sure nurses make the worst patients. They can take care of themselves and they don't need any help. But they're wrong.
It gives me knots in my stomach.... I wonder what's going to happen after her next chemo treatment on Tuesday. My husband tells me I need to stop worrying about things I can't control--- but that's not me. I need to control everything. I'm an only child -- that's what we fucking do. We try to control everything and make it work how we want it to be.
So what are my options? I don't know. I try to be a mom in the midst of all this but I can guarantee if I were to be graded right now I'd get a C... or maybe a C+. I have a great deal of things going on in my life that I should be excited about it but I'm not. I just feel helpless and sad....
Friday, August 13, 2010
So THAT'S what friends are for!
I fully expected the next entry on this blog would be about nursing my mom through her first chemo treatment but, she did amazingly well. So well that she spent the day washing windows with newspaper (of course, as any Italian mom would) and making dough boys. She slept well. Feels well. Continues to be in great spirits. What more can I ask for right? Then why am I still so negative? It's tiring to be this anxious all the time.
From the time of my mom's diagnosis, I learned something very important. I truly thought I was alone, but I'm not. I'm surrounded by amazing family and friends. My main support is my husband. He's grounded, positive and a realist-- everything I'm not. His outlook on life is different, which I attribute to his service in Iraq, but I am learning to embrace his views. Most importantly, at the end of the day, getting good night squeezes and kisses from my daughter releases me. But, at a time like this, I need more.... I want more.
I always thought I would love a sibling now, but you know what? I feel like my friends and my cousins are siblings to me. A strong characteristic of only children is their loyalty and their desire for strong friendship bonds. We hold on tightly to the friendships we have because they are an extension of family. They replace the non-existence of a sibling.
In times of tragedy, you realize the real meaning of Godparents (mine are amazing, FYI) and your cousins take on the role of brother and sister. Thankfully, I have two that were beside me when my father died and continue to be while I deal with my mom's illness. They're different from me--- they don't understand me and never will, but love me to death.
My friends on the other hand, are a different story. I have very few people in my life that I consider to be best/close/dear friends--- I don't believe in having just one. Doesn't make sense because I have a lot of love and drama to share so why pin it all on one person. They can broken down into several categories:
1. "I'll Cry With You"-- These are the friends that I can call day or night. They will just sit and cry with me-- no words need to be said. Just lots of hugs and tears.
2. "Let's Go Out and Forget About It" -- These friends want to take my out, ply me with alcohol, get me on a dance floor and have me forget all my troubles. We don't talk about the Cancer or chemo or radical surgery. We live in the moment and laugh, laugh, laugh.
3. "Laughing Until You Can't Breathe"-- I have to say, these are some of my favorite friends. They are clever beyond belief and challenge my wits. Making obscure pop culture references or sending me random movie quote texts just when I need it most tends to brighten my day. They have a dry, sarcastic sense of humor and I can always count on them to make me smile.
4. "We're So Connected it's Eerie" - friends like this are considered my soul twin. I married my soul mate, so this is the next best thing. These friends can sense when I am sad and know exactly when to call, text, visit, etc. They know I need them...... they are my main artery.
Sure, there is crossover between these groups but generally these are the people right now, and they know who they are and where they fall without me naming them. I adore my friends. It's in times of extreme sadness, such as this or extreme happiness, such as planning a wedding or having a baby, that you realize who your TRUE friends are and family. I am truly blessed to have these people in my life. I look forward to their support over the upcoming weeks.
From the time of my mom's diagnosis, I learned something very important. I truly thought I was alone, but I'm not. I'm surrounded by amazing family and friends. My main support is my husband. He's grounded, positive and a realist-- everything I'm not. His outlook on life is different, which I attribute to his service in Iraq, but I am learning to embrace his views. Most importantly, at the end of the day, getting good night squeezes and kisses from my daughter releases me. But, at a time like this, I need more.... I want more.
I always thought I would love a sibling now, but you know what? I feel like my friends and my cousins are siblings to me. A strong characteristic of only children is their loyalty and their desire for strong friendship bonds. We hold on tightly to the friendships we have because they are an extension of family. They replace the non-existence of a sibling.
In times of tragedy, you realize the real meaning of Godparents (mine are amazing, FYI) and your cousins take on the role of brother and sister. Thankfully, I have two that were beside me when my father died and continue to be while I deal with my mom's illness. They're different from me--- they don't understand me and never will, but love me to death.
My friends on the other hand, are a different story. I have very few people in my life that I consider to be best/close/dear friends--- I don't believe in having just one. Doesn't make sense because I have a lot of love and drama to share so why pin it all on one person. They can broken down into several categories:
1. "I'll Cry With You"-- These are the friends that I can call day or night. They will just sit and cry with me-- no words need to be said. Just lots of hugs and tears.
2. "Let's Go Out and Forget About It" -- These friends want to take my out, ply me with alcohol, get me on a dance floor and have me forget all my troubles. We don't talk about the Cancer or chemo or radical surgery. We live in the moment and laugh, laugh, laugh.
3. "Laughing Until You Can't Breathe"-- I have to say, these are some of my favorite friends. They are clever beyond belief and challenge my wits. Making obscure pop culture references or sending me random movie quote texts just when I need it most tends to brighten my day. They have a dry, sarcastic sense of humor and I can always count on them to make me smile.
4. "We're So Connected it's Eerie" - friends like this are considered my soul twin. I married my soul mate, so this is the next best thing. These friends can sense when I am sad and know exactly when to call, text, visit, etc. They know I need them...... they are my main artery.
Sure, there is crossover between these groups but generally these are the people right now, and they know who they are and where they fall without me naming them. I adore my friends. It's in times of extreme sadness, such as this or extreme happiness, such as planning a wedding or having a baby, that you realize who your TRUE friends are and family. I am truly blessed to have these people in my life. I look forward to their support over the upcoming weeks.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
C-Day
It's here. The big day. Chemotherapy is beginning and then she is off to radiation. Both treatments will be going on simultaneously. Although Chemo is only once a week, radiation is EVERY DAY. The next 6 weeks cannot go by fast enough. Since I am 35 and live in her basement, every morning I go up stairs before I leave for work to kiss her good bye (clearly I'm Italian).
Walking up the stairs to see her I felt my heart in throat as I didn't know what to expect. Was she going to be a wreck like I AM? Was she going to be silent and scared? Or even worse, crying? (if there is one thing I can't handle, it's seeing my mom cry. It breaks my heart into a million pieces). But, Um, NO. I didn't encounter any of that. Instead, there she was packing a snack, making sure her Kindle was charged and getting ready to iron her clothes (yes, my mom is the only person who doesn't go in lounging clothes for chemo I'm sure). With a big smile, I got my normal, "Good Morning Princess. How did you sleep?" as if it were any other Wednesday. It was as if she was getting ready for a day of errands--- not a day of having poisonous chemicals being pumped through her. It was at that moment I decided, my mom is the bravest woman I know and I can only aspire to more like her.
Today, SHE is MY inspiration to remain calm and stay positive. I have mounds of guilt not being there with her but next week it's my turn. For weeks I thought she was putting up a front of being brave and positive but it's not a front--- it's real. She knows she is going to beat this and I need to join that club. Seriously, if she's not scared, then why am I? When I left for work, I wished her luck and told her I loved her--- like I do everyday. Today I will think of the big hug she gave me, because for a split second, I felt like everything was going to be all right.
I can't lie, today I wish I had a brother or a sister that I could call to share this burden. I've never regretted being an only child except for now and when my dad died. Maybe it would be nice to have an older sibling to sit and hold my hand while we cry together or even encourage one another to stay positive.
I am working today and it will be tough but I am surrounded by amazing co-workers and a truly understanding manager which may help. My intention is to keep busy here and start to focus on the exciting events coming up over the next few weeks.
Walking up the stairs to see her I felt my heart in throat as I didn't know what to expect. Was she going to be a wreck like I AM? Was she going to be silent and scared? Or even worse, crying? (if there is one thing I can't handle, it's seeing my mom cry. It breaks my heart into a million pieces). But, Um, NO. I didn't encounter any of that. Instead, there she was packing a snack, making sure her Kindle was charged and getting ready to iron her clothes (yes, my mom is the only person who doesn't go in lounging clothes for chemo I'm sure). With a big smile, I got my normal, "Good Morning Princess. How did you sleep?" as if it were any other Wednesday. It was as if she was getting ready for a day of errands--- not a day of having poisonous chemicals being pumped through her. It was at that moment I decided, my mom is the bravest woman I know and I can only aspire to more like her.
Today, SHE is MY inspiration to remain calm and stay positive. I have mounds of guilt not being there with her but next week it's my turn. For weeks I thought she was putting up a front of being brave and positive but it's not a front--- it's real. She knows she is going to beat this and I need to join that club. Seriously, if she's not scared, then why am I? When I left for work, I wished her luck and told her I loved her--- like I do everyday. Today I will think of the big hug she gave me, because for a split second, I felt like everything was going to be all right.
I can't lie, today I wish I had a brother or a sister that I could call to share this burden. I've never regretted being an only child except for now and when my dad died. Maybe it would be nice to have an older sibling to sit and hold my hand while we cry together or even encourage one another to stay positive.
I am working today and it will be tough but I am surrounded by amazing co-workers and a truly understanding manager which may help. My intention is to keep busy here and start to focus on the exciting events coming up over the next few weeks.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Dear Xanax, Thank you.
"Self-medication is use of a drug with therapeutic intent but without professional advice," per Wikipedia.
So here I am, sitting here trying to remain calm and anxiety free but it's hard knowing that in about 13 hours, my mom is about to begin her first round of chemotherapy and radiation. I guess a "normal" person would see the glass half full and find the proverbial silver lining in this dark cloud. I on the other hand prefer to self medicate. My self medication seems to piss off my husband and concern even my best friends but they clearly don't understand the ramifications of what would happen without these meds. Can you say panic attack?????
It's a well known, undisputed fact that only children do not do well with change. In addition to that, we are perfectionists with a need to control everything. This is a deadly combination. For me, when these feelings of loss of control reach a high the best way for me to deal is to take a some sort of anti-anxiety med (which was prescribed) to keep me stable. I'm not ashamed of it-- I embrace it. If I were diabetic, I would take insulin. To me its no different.
Right now, I want to just sit and cry in the fetal position because of my fear. I saw how sick my dad was after chemo and it scares me that my mom is going to be the same way. I recall the nights of him vomiting for hours and my mom making all of his favorite foods in an attempt to get him to eat something. Anything. Is this what my mom is going to go through? Is she going to be sick all the time? Is she going to lose her hair? Will she have the strength to play with her only granddaughter? It's all "noise" in my head but the miracle of xanax is it stops the noise. .....I no longer hear the lambs.
My husband gets angry with my "what ifs" and my "supposes" but it's who I am. It's natural for me to compare this to my dad's Cancer. Is it like comparing apples and oranges? Well, the rational part of me (about 10% for reference) knows that it is but the rest of me (90% for those following along), is irrational sees this equation:
CANCER=DEATH
For weeks my mom has been going through test after test.... and then there was the waiting.... and now? It's here. Treatment is beginning. This is real. My mom has Cancer. I have been spending weeks trying to push this out of my mind and spend time in denial. Wait, not denial. That sounds so negative and immature. I prefer to quote the words of the great Calvin of Calvin and Hobbes, "I am not in denial. I am just very selective about the reality I choose to accept."
Xanax helps me make the right decision on the reality to accept.
So here I am, sitting here trying to remain calm and anxiety free but it's hard knowing that in about 13 hours, my mom is about to begin her first round of chemotherapy and radiation. I guess a "normal" person would see the glass half full and find the proverbial silver lining in this dark cloud. I on the other hand prefer to self medicate. My self medication seems to piss off my husband and concern even my best friends but they clearly don't understand the ramifications of what would happen without these meds. Can you say panic attack?????
It's a well known, undisputed fact that only children do not do well with change. In addition to that, we are perfectionists with a need to control everything. This is a deadly combination. For me, when these feelings of loss of control reach a high the best way for me to deal is to take a some sort of anti-anxiety med (which was prescribed) to keep me stable. I'm not ashamed of it-- I embrace it. If I were diabetic, I would take insulin. To me its no different.
Right now, I want to just sit and cry in the fetal position because of my fear. I saw how sick my dad was after chemo and it scares me that my mom is going to be the same way. I recall the nights of him vomiting for hours and my mom making all of his favorite foods in an attempt to get him to eat something. Anything. Is this what my mom is going to go through? Is she going to be sick all the time? Is she going to lose her hair? Will she have the strength to play with her only granddaughter? It's all "noise" in my head but the miracle of xanax is it stops the noise. .....I no longer hear the lambs.
My husband gets angry with my "what ifs" and my "supposes" but it's who I am. It's natural for me to compare this to my dad's Cancer. Is it like comparing apples and oranges? Well, the rational part of me (about 10% for reference) knows that it is but the rest of me (90% for those following along), is irrational sees this equation:
CANCER=DEATH
For weeks my mom has been going through test after test.... and then there was the waiting.... and now? It's here. Treatment is beginning. This is real. My mom has Cancer. I have been spending weeks trying to push this out of my mind and spend time in denial. Wait, not denial. That sounds so negative and immature. I prefer to quote the words of the great Calvin of Calvin and Hobbes, "I am not in denial. I am just very selective about the reality I choose to accept."
Xanax helps me make the right decision on the reality to accept.
Is this a bad dream or really my life?
Picture it, May 1997. I'm 21 years old and instead of off celebrating my recent college graduation by backpacking through Europe or driving around in my new car, I'm burying my father. You hear the words Cancer and at 21 you never think it's something that will take away your mom or dad. It's a disease that takes your grandparents or your elderly aunt, not your 48 year old father. Hands down, it was the worst experience of my life. I always new someday I'd bury my father but not before I graduated law school. Not before I got married. Not before my first child was born. Over 13 years, I've learned how to stop crying and remember the good times. Not a day goes by that I don't miss my dad, but the difference is, I feel like I have my own personal guardian angel.
Flash forward to July 2010. I come home, which is currently a basement at my mom's while we build a house, only to hear from her that she has Cancer. My first reaction is WHAT THE FUCK. How can this be possible? Did I piss off someone in a past life? Is that why I am being forced to deal with this Cancer nonsense again? As close as I was to my dad, my mom is my best friend. I live with her but I still talk to her at least 4 times a day while I'm at work. She's the first person I call when I have good news.... bad news... or even better, gossip. Immediately I started thinking, what am I going to do without her? I have an amazing husband and beautiful daughter.... but they're not my mom. Who is going to be my mom? Once she goes, I'm all alone. I'm surrounded by people (family and friends) but at the same time I am all alone. I don't have a brother or sister to lean on or share my thoughts with on this.
If I cry, I cry alone. After my experience with my father, I learned to suppress my feeling for fear of upsetting those around me. Everyone is telling me, you have to be strong for your mom and for Avery and David (her husband). But, I can't be. I'm sad. I'm angry. I WANT to cry. I want to be angry and be pissed off. This is unfair. I know I may sound like a selfish brat but I want someone to hold me and tell me it's going to be OK. The one person who used to do that was my mom and I can't go to her.... I have to continue with the facade of "You're going to be fine and we're going to beat this!!!" Problem is, I'm a glass empty kind of girl.
The diagnosis: Stage I esophageal cancer. It hasn't spread to the lymph nodes and the PET scan is clear of any other cancer. Best news is this tumor is completely operable. All good news right??? I wish I could stop thinking of the "what ifs." I don't want her to be sick. I don't want her to die. I'm not ready for that. Losing my father at a young age was enough. I'm full for now. Having tragedy strike the same family twice seems unnatural and against the odds.
I find solace in the fact that my dad was Stage IV Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma which is completely inoperable. My mom's Cancer is everything my dad's wasn't. As an only child, you can only depend on cousins, friends, husband, etc for so much. They don't understand--- even though they try so very hard.
Hopefully this blog will reach other only children that can relate. It would be nice to know I'm not alone. Right now, all I can do is take it one day at a time.
Flash forward to July 2010. I come home, which is currently a basement at my mom's while we build a house, only to hear from her that she has Cancer. My first reaction is WHAT THE FUCK. How can this be possible? Did I piss off someone in a past life? Is that why I am being forced to deal with this Cancer nonsense again? As close as I was to my dad, my mom is my best friend. I live with her but I still talk to her at least 4 times a day while I'm at work. She's the first person I call when I have good news.... bad news... or even better, gossip. Immediately I started thinking, what am I going to do without her? I have an amazing husband and beautiful daughter.... but they're not my mom. Who is going to be my mom? Once she goes, I'm all alone. I'm surrounded by people (family and friends) but at the same time I am all alone. I don't have a brother or sister to lean on or share my thoughts with on this.
If I cry, I cry alone. After my experience with my father, I learned to suppress my feeling for fear of upsetting those around me. Everyone is telling me, you have to be strong for your mom and for Avery and David (her husband). But, I can't be. I'm sad. I'm angry. I WANT to cry. I want to be angry and be pissed off. This is unfair. I know I may sound like a selfish brat but I want someone to hold me and tell me it's going to be OK. The one person who used to do that was my mom and I can't go to her.... I have to continue with the facade of "You're going to be fine and we're going to beat this!!!" Problem is, I'm a glass empty kind of girl.
The diagnosis: Stage I esophageal cancer. It hasn't spread to the lymph nodes and the PET scan is clear of any other cancer. Best news is this tumor is completely operable. All good news right??? I wish I could stop thinking of the "what ifs." I don't want her to be sick. I don't want her to die. I'm not ready for that. Losing my father at a young age was enough. I'm full for now. Having tragedy strike the same family twice seems unnatural and against the odds.
I find solace in the fact that my dad was Stage IV Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma which is completely inoperable. My mom's Cancer is everything my dad's wasn't. As an only child, you can only depend on cousins, friends, husband, etc for so much. They don't understand--- even though they try so very hard.
Hopefully this blog will reach other only children that can relate. It would be nice to know I'm not alone. Right now, all I can do is take it one day at a time.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)