an unwanted update.
It was my week to pick Mom up from chemo. She’s been on the same chemo schedule since she moved down to NC last summer. I’ll pick her up around 6:30/7 pm after her hellishly long day at the hospital. I’ll start walking too fast back to my car, forgetting that chemo days are not speed walking days. We’ll get back to her house and my some freakish mom skill she will have something from my childhood that I need to take back to my house. I’ll try and “forget” it.
This is standard. It’s not ideal. Ideal would be no chemo, no cancer, but it works.
When Mom was first diagnosed we were told 1-2 years. We hit the two-year mark last October. Unsurprisingly, Mom has been quite stubborn and resilient in the face of cancer. Her resiliency coupled with the regularly scheduled programming of biweekly chemo for the past two+ years lulled us into a sense of normalcy. Sure, when asked about my mom I would say things like “I feel lucky, she’s outlived her prognosis, I feel like I’m getting extra ‘borrowed"‘ time.”
That was true, I did feel like I was getting borrowed time. I expected that borrowed time to last years though.
Anyways. It was my week to pick her up. Around 11:30 she texts to let me know she’s not getting chemo this week, so I don’t need to pick her up. I assume it’s because her “numbers” (something something blood count) were low. It happens from time to time. I respond to the text with a call that is ignored. I try not to assume anything and head to my afternoon class.
On my ride home (lol am I stalling by giving a play-by-play of an ordinary day? maybe? it’s my blog though so…) I get a text from Mom to the kids saying there’s a treatment update and asking if we could all head to my grandparents house that evening, with the extra incentive of providing dinner as if we needed that. Obviously, we go. We also hope it’s nothing and we will drive the hour home being both annoyed and relieved by the news. Our hopes are dashed.
It was the unwanted update:
Chemo has stopped working, cancer is spreading.
See-Mom had neglected to inform us that she had a scan a few days before her normal chemo appointments. The scan provided evidence that the chemo isn’t working.
This gave rise to lots of questions without answers, anger, sadness, and my sweet sweet grandparents offering us split pea soup to eat.
Bailey said it best, “I think we need some grease to soak up this news.,” and then proceeded to order pizza.
So here we are. A few weeks out from that night. Chemo still not working, and trying to navigate the next phase of cancer.
Mom has spent the last few weeks making calls to the people who have asked to be “in the loop.” To no one’s fault, I’ve watched it exhaust and overwhelm her. She loves her people and her people love her. They deserve to hear from her and to know what’s going on. However, selfishly, if she only has a limited time left, I’d like to find other ways to keep people posted about cancer so she can spend her not talking about cancer.
With her consent, we’ve found a solution. I will post health updates on my blog. I’m too lazy/busy to figure out CaringBridge site. I already have this password information saved. My hope is this will serve as a platform so those who would like to stay up to date on her healthcare are able to while also lifting the burden from my mom of having to update you with each new development.
I will do my best to update here as much as possible, and selfishly I hope there are no updates.