As I took mom home from Catholic Care Rehabilitation, she was absolutely thrilled to be leaving. Tired, and the 20 minute trip wore her out, but she was thrilled. She had been gone from home for a total of 6 weeks, and she was happy to get back into her familiar surroundings. I had the house cleaned, the carpets cleaned, and stocked the refrigerator. It was the beginning of some cracks in my relationship with my brother, as I had asked him to share the expenses of getting the house ready for mom and he told me he could not afford the $60 because they had just spent one thousand dollars on a stray cat. I called my cousin Tera while at work the day I got his email and I was crying so hard she thought my mom had just died. It wasn't that I couldn't afford it, it was just the thought that I asked so little, while bearing all of the responsibility and work, and he said no. I will be forever grateful to my father-in-law for his generosity.
For several weeks in June she held her own. It seemed for a while like we were breaking the two week cycle of an E.R. visit and things were looking up. Shortly after the fourth of July, things bottomed out. Back to the Emergency Room, tests, admission, the nephrologists, urologists, oncologists, infectious disease doctors, the usual suspects. But this time she was just....so weak. Then she tested positive for C-dif (sp?) and that wasn't good, but manageable.
About a week into mom's hospitalization, I was beginning to feel as if I had the plague. My normally supportive daughter was avoiding seeing my mom, even though Chad was not. I thought for a bit that perhaps she was just tired of it all and she would come around. During one round of tests I asked her to go with me to meet with some of the doctors and she said no, she had something to do. I thanked her and hung up and cried because I felt so all alone and this was SO not like her. I dearly love my son-in-law, and was VERY grateful for him sitting with me and his support, but my best friend was just....M.I.A.
I couldn't focus on that right now, there were bigger problems brewing. Test after test....results....medication...... I.V.'s........ transfusions, doctor after doctor rotating through the doors. She had pancreatitis and gall bladder problems, amylase and lipase enzyme counts were way too low, now we needed to think of surgery to have her gall bladder out but she was too weak and her red blood count was equally low.
July 15th I got up at 5:30 to get to the hospital and make sure I was there for all doctors making rounds. Some were not hard to get ahold of if I came later in the morning, but some were so elusive I wasn't sure if they were really ever there or not. The nurses were wonderful, with rare exception, and so very helpful. One particular resident Chad and I had nicknamed "Doogie Howser" because of his penchant for carrying a backpack and being very young. He was a good doctor, very kind and helpful. (This is important because of a role he later plays.)
Strangely enough, there weren't many doctors, but we were waiting on Michael Porter because he was the surgeon that did her first major surgery for the colon cancer. Around 1:30 he finally comes in, sits down and says that he is really sorry, he does see the irritation from the pancreatitis which usually is created by gall stones, but she is absolutely no candidate for surgery in her present condition. And it also is not possible now because of the infiltrating cancer in her liver and they would not operate on a terminally ill patient in her condition.
For a nano-second, the world stopped. Right there......that very second.
Mom had become silent, and when I cleared my throat, I asked him if the test results were back yet. He said "yes, I have just been reviewing them. Had no one told you yet that the cancer is throughout her liver?"
Uh....no.
He said some other things, I have absolutely no clue what they might have been, other than mom asking: "there is no way for any surgical intervention?" and he replied "no. none."
He left and we were alone in a very quiet room. Mom said, "well. I wasn't expecting that." Would someone please tell me what the protocol is when you have just sat next to your mother and the doctor has told her she is going to die? What is the etiquette for terminal diagnosis?? Does Hallmark make a card? Is there a handbook?
I just assured her that we would talk to Dr. Johnson. We would see what he said and make sure of everything. We'll confirm it with the oncologist and he'll have a plan.
Then as she stared at the ceiling, I saw a tear run down her cheek.
I excused myself and went to find one of my favorite nurses. She went over the test results with me, and I even managed to talk her into giving me a copy of them. Fortunately for me, mom had signed all of the necessary papers to allow the doctors to discuss her case with me and to have access to all of her medical records. I could ask questions and run everything by Uncle Skip and get it "translated" into terms I could understand.
The very first thing I did after that, was text my daughter and son-in-law. I can't remember if I called my husband and in-laws or if she did. It's kind of fuzzy.
But I got all the necessary copies of tests and went to the waiting room and called Skip's cell. As I read the medical jargon and he very patiently and kindly explained to me what it meant, I tried to absorb it. I could visualize him driving in some remote part of Oklahoma, listening to me on his cell, deciphering the results and gently explaining to me what it meant. I hung up and put my head in my hands. What the hell do I do NOW...
"Man.....that is one BIG BUTT...."
I turned around to see my missing in action daughter and son-in-law behind me. They had dropped what they were doing and come straight up to the hospital. She had been avoiding me, that was obvious, but now she was here and that's all that mattered. She hugged me and Chad wrapped his arms around us both and we cried. I told them what I had found out since I talked to them at home, what Skip had said, what Dr. Porter had said. What it looked like. Then we went in and saw mom.
But Shell put a surgical mask on. I thought, "okay sweetie, but germs aren't the biggest problem right now." I probably said something but don't remember now the statement or her reply. We just went and sat with mom for as long as she wanted. Sometime around dinner we left to get something to eat. Exhausted would be a good word, but it doesn't even begin to cover it. They picked my favorite Mexican restaurant to try and cheer me a little.
One of the really great things about our family is that we like getting together, and we're very supportive. I've never once had a crisis that my in-laws have not been there. Ever. So this night we all decide to go to Carlos O'Kelly's for dinner. After we all got seated, and ordered, the waitress walked up and handed me a couple of bibs. One said "I love Grandpa" and one said "I love Grandma". I started to hand them over to Rick, assuming that they were of course his daughter's, and Michelle stopped me. I still didn't get it. She said "no, mom. They're yours." Still didn't get it. Then I think it was her that said "I'm pregnant!"
For the second time in one day... I SWEAR the earth came to a complete stop. I remember looking at her, letting it sink in....and then I BAWLED. I cried and cried, and today it still brings tears to my eyes to think about it. She explained that she had been terribly sick, felt horrible knowing that she wasn't there for me but not being willing to take the risk to the baby. That was the reason for the surgical mask: she refused to stay away any longer when we got the really bad news and she and Chad called her OB right away and that was a compromise the doctor was willing to let her go with. I do remember asking, and this is the honest truth, "are you just trying to cheer me up??".
Chad still smirks at that. "Like we'd tell you we were pregnant just to cheer you up!"
July 15th 2008. I'll never forget it. The lowest.....and the highest day of 2008.
Two days later she went home to my house.
Weak, but she was willing to fight.
If she could get out the door and walk the driveway she felt like she had conquered the unthinkable.
"Time to walk mom!" And whoever was handy would walk with her outside because she was too weak to go ANYWHERE on her own.
And once again, my family pitched in to get her better.....and face the future.
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