The Last Fight

I know I've written about this before, but I've just been thinking about Mom a lot today and needed to write it again.

This morning on the way into town, for some reason or another, I had a flashback of a phone call with hospice I'd had about seven months ago. I was in the back room at my parents house where I'd been staying for the last week or so to help take care of my mom. She was sick, and had taken a decidedly turn for the worse. She'd had Stage 4 Colon Cancer for four years. It had been four years of fighting, first with chemo and surgeries (which is a whole other story), and then with natural medicine and a special diet (also another story). She'd lived far longer than the doctors had thought possible. She'd outlived the projections of every website and message board I'd visited in my obsessive need to understand what we were up against. Her CEA (tumor marker) numbers had stayed low, and nothing had showed up in her monthly exams for a long time. Then the numbers did start to go up. Then, after three years of nothing, they found a new spot on her liver. It only took four months to go from finding that small spot, to my being in that back room on the phone with a lady from hospice.

Mom had been getting intravenous fluids that whole previous week. As weak as she was, we would help her get dressed, get her to the car with one of us on each side to keep her from falling, drive her to the hospital and wait the two to three hours to get the fluids and then repeat the process to get her home. We'd done this every day for a week, but the benefits of the fluids were starting to be countered by the difficulty of the journey. She was just getting too sick to make the trip anymore. We'd been talking to her doctor, to the hospital, to anyone we could think of to figure out how to get the fluids to come to her. We felt certain there had to be a traveling nurse, or someone who could administer the fluids. If the problem was that insurance or medicare wouldn't cover the cost, we were all more than willing to pay for it. We just needed someone to be willing to do it.

When I asked the lady from hospice if that was something she could help us with, instead of answering my question she asked me some of her own: What did I think was really going on? What did I think the fluids were going to do for my mom? Would it be better to keep her going long as we could, as she got sicker and sicker? Were we doing this for her, or were we doing this for ourselves? Beyond these questions, we discussed that Mom's body wasn't really benefiting from the fluids as well as we'd hoped. Her liver and kidneys had already begun to shut down, and we knew she experiencing fluid retention and swelling. The fluids we were fighting so desperately for were doing more harm than good.

I had one of those moments right then where the blood thunders through your ears, the air gets sucked out of your lungs, and time slows down. She was so sick. Every day she was getting sicker. Of course we knew she was going to die. But until that moment, we'd been in fight mode. This was the first moment I realized the fight was really over.

The lady on the other end of the phone waited until I stopped crying, and then we made arrangements for her to come over and talk to the rest of the family. We'd been fighting this disease aggressively as a family for over four years. It was going to take some professional help to transition from that all consuming fight into helping our Mom let go and... die.

She came over and we all gathered around the couch where Mom was laying, and we talked about the fact that she really was dying. It was singularly the saddest discussion I've ever been a participant in. Everyone went out and left Renae and I alone with Mom. We talked more about how this was really it. We told her how much we loved her, and how we would be there with her through it all, and then we would be there to see her on the other side.

I wonder how she felt at that moment. I think about that moment a lot. I regret that moment sometimes. I wish we'd just stayed in denial about the fact she was really going to die so we'd never had that discussion. Once it was out there, it just seemed like any fight she had inside just went away. She was just ready for it to be over with.

Renae, Steph, Brandon, Cookie and I all took shifts staying with her and Dad. At first we were still gently trying to get her to eat and drink, but in retrospect that still may have been our lingering need to fight for her life. Eventually even that stopped.

I would stay for two days, and then leave for one or two. I would go to work on the days I was away. Work became somewhat of a sanctuary where my mind could be otherwise occupied. Then I would drive the hour and a half back to my parents. I would feel the heaviness become worse and worse until I drug myself up their steps and into their house where I would see her again.

We'd brought a hospital bed into their living room, so I would see her the minute I opened the door. Every time I opened that door, it made me want to recoil in horror. Our mom was lying there in that bed dying! It couldn't have felt more surreal. By then she was drugged and asleep, and unable to talk very much even when she was aware. It was a living, waking nightmare we couldn't escape.

A strange, numb, detached-ness decended upon me. I've never been like that my whole life. It was like my brain just shut parts of itself off. I felt made of stone.

We held her hand. We brushed the hair out of her face. We put chapstick on her lips and swabs of water in her mouth. We told her how much we loved her over and over and told her we were going to be okay. We promised her we would never stop talking about her to our kids so they would always remember her. We talked about our hope for the future when we would all be together again and she would be healthy. I hope that she felt some comfort from us being there with her. We knew she was scared; her brow and face would be scrunched up with anxiety and pain, even though she couldn't voice it. The best we could do was give her the shots of pain and anxiety meds that hospice had left for her.

The last time I saw her alive, the truth is, I knew it would be the last time... I should have stayed. I should have stayed. I should have stayed. But when my niece came over for her shift, I left. To escape the horror, the impending doom, and the despair, I went back to my house. The next morning I talked to my niece and she told me that Mom's hands were getting colder, and I knew I should go back. I knew the signs of impending death by heart; I'd read them over and over in hopes of preparing myself. But I didn't go back. I went to work instead. Renae called me at work to let me know she was at Mom's. She held the phone to Mom's ear so I could tell her that I love her. She couldn't talk, but I could hear her breathing loud in an attempt (I choose to believe this) to communicate with me. Renae then called Danny, and a similar conversation happened.

Renae was on one side of Mom holding her hand, and Cookie was on her other side holding her hand when it started to happen. They both told her it was okay to let go, and then she did. I am so sad I wasn't there when it happened. I am also so grateful I wasn't.

Run, Running, Runable, run-atious, Runanananun

So I am officially signed up for the "Run for the Health of It" 5K this Saturday. Should be interesting as I haven't been able to get myself to run even ONCE this whole month. I may be walking quite a bit of it. I'm hoping that this will be a springboard for beginning to run again though. I need to do it!!! Between my obsession with chocolate, black licorice, and anything fatty and delicious lately PLUS my couch potato-ism, my pants were a bit tight this morning. I was so going to run today before work... that didn't happen, but I did make a green drink (kale, blue berries, cranberries, banana) and took my vitamins for the first time in a month- yay for self-care... But seriously, running and all that other stuff is going to be huge in the surviving of this winter, which has always been a struggle for me anyways, even before everything that has happened with mom.

I've been reading a lot about delayed grief. Talked to Renae yesterday about how I just don't seem to feel much of anything right now (besides being so tired and lethargic), and she said that is how she feels too. Brandon too- he hasn't really cried at all... and I know Steph is there too. Even Dad seems to be there with us. A lot of stuff I've been reading says that this can happen a lot with care givers of terminally ill loved ones- it's a coping mechanism we have when we need to get through an especially hard time (like when caring for someone who is actively dying), but that it is hard to turn off after the crisis has passed. I feel like we are sitting on a ticking time bomb. Dad wants us to come down and go through her things soon. Also, we are need to choose a headstone and sprinkle her ashes...

Back to the race... SO, Renae called me yesterday to let me know that Partnership for Health is one of it's sponsors and beneficiaries. It is... not sure if ironic is the right word here... well, just a fun fact for us, especially since Steph and I (Patsy's progeny) are going to run something for them, since they were the ones who let her go for YEARS without a colonoscopy, even after she repeatedly reported symptoms that screamed colon cancer. If they would have listened to her (even if they would have just had her get one because she was over fifty), she would still be alive today. Because of what happened to Mom, they changed the whole structure of when to recommend colonoscopies to their patients. This run could even be in reaction to what happened to her- trying to make colonoscopies more available and affordable to lower-income people. So, it will be a bittersweet thing to run for them on Saturday... mostly sweet though. I wish that funds had have been available for my mom all those years ago (and that her doctor would have recommended she use them).

Bonds of Love

Bonds of Love

This year was a crazy year- at least when it came to people close to our family (or part of our family) getting married. By my count we went to five weddings, and Derrick was either an usher or a groomsman in everyone. First was Dustin and Jasa last January in Mexico. Then Kevin and Alta, Zac and Shawna, and Shon and Alysa all got married this summer. And December 8th my sweet *little* nephew Brandon married his sweetheart Lyndsay in Yucaipa California. It was a beautiful wedding. And what I loved about the whole experience was that almost my whole family flew over there (most of us on the same flight). We had a great time together! So, since I put my blogs in a scrapbook with my pictures (and your comments too!), here is an itinerary to help remember what all happened while we were there.

Day 1 (Wednesday, December 5)- We arrive in Yucaipa after flying in from Spokane. Sharon and Dale  picked us (Mom, Dad, Renae, Doug, Steph, Casey, Aiyana, Shannon, Derrick, Derrin, Kloe and myself), and our piles of luggage up at the Ontario airport (except for Casey and Steph who rented an awesome blue Mustang convertable while there) and hauled us back to the much smaller town of Yucaipa. I was sick (still). They dropped us off at their place before they headed back to Los Angeles to pick up more family from that airport, and we all went out to eat. After my taco, I promptly crashed, fell asleep and didn't get up for about 3 hours. Then Derrick, Shannon me and the kids packed up our luggage into Lyndsay's brother's jeep (which he let us use the whole time we were there), and we went off to Lyndsay's grandparents house (Jeannie and Les), where we stayed for the first night.

Day 2- Jeanie and Les made us a tremendous breakfast, bright and early! Eggs, ham, pancakes, and coffee. They are adorable. The grandparents everyone wants to have (I love grandparents. I didn't have them while I was growing up, and now I understand their immense appeal). Then we packed up all our stuff again (we were moving to another place to stay that night), and headed into town to meet up with all the younger members of the wedding party to head onward to Knottsbury Farm. It took a couple hours of driving to get there, but it was AWESOME. When we got back, everyone who didn't go wanted to know the little kids liked their time at the farm. Aiyana, Kloe and Derrin did have fun. But I think all of the big kids who went had as much fun! My favorite ride was the Accelerator, a rollercoaster where they shoot you out going 80 miles and hour, immediately going into corkscrews. Loved that ride. We got back to Yucaipa late, went on to the next place we were staying (friends of Lyndsay's parents who were out of town that week and said we could stay at their house), and I crashed. Danny and Nancy got into town that night, and they stayed at the house with us.

Day 3 (Friday)- The day started out with manicures and pedicures. Just in our group, we had ten women. The people doing our nails all did good work, BUT the guy who did mine (his name was Tom), was also the manager, and he was feeling stress over dealing with our group and trying to keep his regulars happy. The result was my manicure was filled with moments of being ignored by the guy sawing away at my feet, having my calves massaged by a tense little man who alternated trying to strip the flesh from bone, and remembering I was there, smiling at me and saying "Feels good, right???". I admit, I lied and said it did. I am not good at standing up for myself in these kind of situations. But the end result was good (he even pained little flowers on my big toenails), so it was all good...

That night included: Decorating the reception hall, wedding rehearsal, and wedding rehearsal dinner. We fell in bed late.

Day 4 (WEDDING DAY!)- Woke up early to get kids washed and ready for the wedding since I wasn't going to be with them for the rest of the day (Shannon, Nancy and Danny watched them for me:). Next stop, hair appointments... then pictures. I need to mention here that there was a horrible weather system working it's way down the coast the whole time we were in California. It was in the 40's by the time we went out for pictures. We were freezing!!!

The wedding itself was beautiful. Doug gave the talk, and he did a great job. There was one moment where he got choked up (the same part he got choked up when he gave the talk at Steph's wedding), but it was a touching moment you only get when a Dad is the one talking. Brandon and Lyndsay were in their own little world, gazing and laughing and so forth. Eww. Na, it was cute.

After much eating and dancing, we drove home. On the way home it SNOWED. In southern California.

Day 5- I have to admit, I was a whiny, wimpy, complainy sort of girl on Sunday. I was really tired because we hadn't stopped even once. I was also still sick, hacking my lungs out attractively every couple minutes. But I got up earlyish anyways and onward we went to the Los Angeles Zoo. It was a pretty fun relaxing day, and no one seemed to care how pastey or contagious I looked.



We kept hoping the weather would be warmer as we got farther down the Mexico penicula, but the system that had been in California the whole time we were there followed us to San Felipe. We still had fun, but not in the same hanging out in our swimsuits sort of way we thought we would.

Days 7 and 8- We collected shells, the guys all went deep sea fishing, we ate tons of seafood, drank gallons of magaritas, played games (lots of hand and foot), went to the market and dickered with the merchants, had a couple campfires, and just relaxed.

Day 9- We drove back up through Mexico, toward Tijuana. We stopped in Puerto Nuevo for dinner at a place where you get Lobster, and two margaritas for twelve dollars each. Then onward we went to the border, where it took nearly two hours of traffic to actually get through to the other side. We stayed at Brandon and Lyndsay's apartment (they were on their honeymoon in Cancun) for the night (we packed and unpacked, loaded and unloaded eight times this trip). And we crashed.

Day 10- Lyndsay's gramma Patty made us all biscuits and gravy for breakfast with sumptuously strong coffee that morning. It was divine. Then they drove us to the airport, we flew back to Spokane, and we were in real winter again. We drove back to Missoula and it FEELS GOOD TO BE HOME!!!

In conclusion, I have to say, I love weddings (I'm not saying marraige is easy, but I love the family ties it can create and strengthen). When I got married my sister was my matron of honor, and I had Shannon, Steph, my cousin Heidi, and Brandon too. Now I have been in all of their weddings. I have also been in some very good friend's weddings as well. I love how close it makes all of us feel to eachother. It creates a shared memory of a pivotal moment in our lives. Both Brandon and Dustin were the youngest people in my family and our clans to get married. They were the last of the single people. The next single people in our families to get married will be my children. Hopefully that won't be for a very very long time. So even though this was the summer of many weddings, we won't be having a summer like this again for a long time.