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?
Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts
Thursday, August 19, 2010
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.
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.
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