Sunday, January 1, 2012

Miss you Mom



Where to begin? It is 5:40AM and I have been awake since 4 AM. Awake thinking about Mom.
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The month of December has been....what is the word?....there are so many words. Difficult. Emotional. Terrifying. Exhausting. Precious.
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On December 7th, our family was stunned to learn that Mom had liver cancer. She had been ill for some time, though she attributed her symptoms to "stress." A visit to the doctor on December 6th revealed extremely high liver and pancreatic enzymes. A CT scan on the 7th and a visit from the oncologist in the emergency room confirmed the worst news we could have imagined. Breast cancer that had spread to her liver.
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Family had begun to gather at the hospital. Amy and I were at her bedside when the diagnosis was announced. As Amy and I stood there, tears streaming down our cheeks, Mom looked at me and said, "Chin up, girls."
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I will always remember those words. I don't recall Mom ever shedding a tear over her diagnosis/prognosis. Perhaps she did in private. She'd always been the stoic one.
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Dehydration and profound fatigue and weakness prompted an admission to the oncology floor. Her doctor discussed immediately beginning chemotherapy. "We've got to hit this fast and hard if we are going to get a response." Translation: This is bad.
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The next day Mom would receive a port-a-cath in order to receive her chemo, as well as a breast biopsy of the mass she had apparently been ignoring for some time. That evening, she got her first chemotherapy infusion. We took her home the next day, Friday.
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The next 5 days found us taking turns staying at the house, sleeping on an air mattress on the floor in Mom's room. She was so weak that she stayed in bed the whole time, sitting up for us to drink water and try Popsicles. Her throat was already so sore from the first chemo treatment. Percocet was used to control her pain.
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On Wednesday the 14th, we returned to the oncologists office for follow-up. Mom was so weak and fatigued. She had not eaten any solids....unless you count jell0 as a solid, in days. The oncologist recommended admission to the hospital for IV nutrition and pain control. He said that on a chemo toxicity scale of 1-5, she was a 4. He informed her/us that he could not give her the chemotherapy that was planned for that day, and that we would make a decision later in the week as to whether or not another chemo dose was appropriate.
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So she got admitted to the hospital and was given IV nutrition and morphine for pain. She continued to get weaker and only wanted sips of liquids, as she continued to have nausea and vomiting and no appetite, and the single dose of chemo had made her mouth and lips so sore.
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On Friday morning, the oncologist came in and offered her another chemo treatment. He gave her the option of just going with palliative/comfort care, or proceeding with another treatment, one that would probably make her just as sick as the first one did. Mom just looked at him, not giving him an answer. He left the room to allow her time to think about it.
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I sat with Mom for a few minutes. I held her hand, and allowed her (and myself) to process what she/we had just been told.
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"Mom, what do YOU want to do?" I asked. She looked me in the eyes and said, "I'm miserable. I want this to be over with as soon as possible. I want you to keep me as doped up as possible."
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"So, no more chemo?" I asked. She shook her head.
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I lay my head on our hands and cried. Amy walked in. We cried over Mom. Mom closed her eyes. I explained what had just been decided and went out to tell Dr. V what Mom had decided. I respected her decision. I didn't want her to feel as bad as she had after that first treatment. To me, and to her, that was not quality of life.
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We were visited by the palliative care coordinator, who we LOVED....Jennifer. She was so kind and accommodating to all of us. She visited us daily throughout the rest of the hospital stay and met with us as a family, talking to us about what to expect as Mom's condition continued to proceed to the end of life.
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Mom's sense of humor peeked through the dark clouds of her illness one evening, as I prepared to leave the hospital. I was making sure Mom was comfortable...
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Me-"Do you need anything? A drink of water?"
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Mom-"No."
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Me-"A Popsicle?"
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Mom-"No."
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Me-"A kick in the pants?"
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Mom-"I'm not wearing any."
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I laughed hysterically. Mom just smiled.
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The decision was made to move Mom home with Hospice care. When Mom found out she got to go home, her facial expression changed. She smiled slightly, her tired eyes brightened.
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On Friday morning, the 23rd, I stopped in her room when I had a break. (Labor and delivery is on the same floor as oncology.) She was drowsy and I told her, "We are going home today!" She nodded slightly and smiled just a tiny bit.
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Hospital bed and equipment had been delivered to the house and ambulance transport was set for 1:00PM. I made sure I was able to go over and "see her off." The nurse gave her some Versed, a sedative, for the ride home, so she would be comfortable. She almost immediately fell asleep.
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I helped the ambulance crew place her on the stretcher with tears flowing, kissed her on the forehead and told her I'd see her at home later.
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I finished out the day and got to leave at about 5:30, and headed over to Mom and Dad's. She was all tucked into her bed and sleeping, very difficult to awaken. I spoke to her and she opened her eyes. I said, "You're home...did you know that?" She barely shook her head. That was the last time she responded to anything.
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The next 5 days found lots of people in and out of the house. Us kids, hospice nurses, chaplain, social work, Pastor Ron, family, and friends. Suddenly the refrigerator was stocked fully by caring friends and family.
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Mom slipped into a coma and we surrounded her with love. We talked to her, told her how much we loved her. Watching her slip away from us was the hardest thing any of us have ever had to endure, but I would not trade spending even one second of that special time with her for anything in the world. Being able to just sit and talk to her, hold her hand, bathe her and make her comfortable were privileges.
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On Wednesday afternoon, December 28th, somewhere around 3:45, Mom left this life. It had been 3 weeks to the hour since we had gotten the news of her illness. Dad was the only one home at the time. The hospice nurse told us that time and time again, she had seen terminally ill patients "wait" until everyone was gone. That's what Mom did.
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Friday, December 30th was the memorial service. It was a lovely tribute to Mom. Adam and Amy were the ones able to "hold it together" and spoke in Mom's honor. Adam read a favorite poem of Mom's by Maya Angelou. Amy had prepared a eulogy that left all of us with the perfect balance of laughter and tears.
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I am humbled and overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and support from family and friends throughout Mom's recent illness and death. The past 3 weeks have been a blur of emotion and we are so thankful for all of those who have sent cards, flowers, prayers, food, and offered kind words to all of us.
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Our hearts are left with an emptiness we cannot even begin to describe, but we know that Mom is resting in eternal peace and that her spirit lives on in each of us.

1 comment:

michelle said...

Oh, Annette... I don't know how you're able to be so eloquent about your mom. I can't imagine how hard the last three weeks were for you. I'm so sorry your family had to endure this loss over the holidays. You are in my thoughts.