A Daughter's Perspective

Hi Everyone. It’s me, Maggie, Margaret, Sweetie-pie etc. My mom gave me permission to log on to her blog so I can share my perspective of life out here in Arizona and keep everyone a little more in the loop. First off, I want to thank all the loving friends and family members who have been diligently reading my mom’s blog. It means the world to me to know that my mom not only has us, but an entire network of people around the country and the world who support her through this hellish journey. I have been surprised and overjoyed to find that a number of my friends, a few of whom I haven’t seen for years, are keeping up with her posts as well. I am not even 20 yet and have already found so many caring and passionate people in my life. I guess there is a silver lining to everything.

I will not attempt to write something as inspirational and engaging as my mom’s blog posts tend to be. She writes so beautifully and no matter where I am, I can always hear her strong, confident voice through the small black print. So I’ll just state some of the facts. Last week the tests from Euromed showed us that my mom’s tumor count had almost doubled. Even with a small amount of chemo only twice a week and no other IV’s, my mom had been feeling terrible. So although this was bad news, it was not entirely unexpected. It’s funny how you can know something in your gut for a week and be totally fine. Then one morning some guy in a white coat says three sentences and it all hits you at once. After Doctor Zieve told us that the cancer was resistant to treatment and that Wanda (one of the other doctors) was going to tweak her treatment, my mom and I went to get some food at the Good Egg across the street. I felt shocked and empty. But I also remember thinking that the only difference between right then and that morning before treatment was that we knew one fact that we hadn’t known before. I had been perfectly fine at 6 a.m, walking Butters and enjoying the morning sun.  Now it was 9:00 and I had this terrible feeling of dread. It seemed silly, really. My mom was in exactly the same condition, except now that we had this knowledge, there was the possibility of actually doing something about it. So as I sat there holding my mom’s hand across the table, eating semi-shitty American breakfast food, it dawned on me. The only way this was going to work was if I made myself truly believe that this is not the end. There is absolutely no point in “preparing myself for the future”, in thinking about whether this is “worth it” or not. I am going to stay positive. She is going to get through this. There is no other possibility right now. And that, is that. Since Friday, my decision has provided me with a lot of relief. I am not going to kid myself into thinking I won’t cry or break down every now and then. Like everyone else who loves my mom, I hate seeing her in pain. It makes me sad and angry and frustrated. But it cannot alter the simple knowledge I now have that she is going to get better.

Now for some more current information. This Friday my mom received her new chemo “cocktail”. One thing is for sure, it is definitely different and is taking effect. Unfortunately we know this because a few hours after treatment she felt horrible. Overwhelming nausea, chills and weakness. Thankfully her brother Colin arrived from L.A. in the nick of time and immediately made himself useful by preparing cold drinks for my mom, cleaning and picking up a few necessities at Walmart while I held my mom’s hand and stroked her hair. My uncle is blissfully laid back and a wonderful presence to have around. He seems equally happy to help out or keep to himself. It’s a huge comfort to know that there is someone there with my mom when I take go to the gym or the pool.

The good news is that the rash on my mom’s back seems to be fading a little and she is draining almost no fluid from her lung. ALSO, when we went into Euromed last week they did not like the sound of her right lung (the one without the catheter in it) and arranged for her to get an x-ray at the hospital that day. We were both terrified that this would show that the cancer had spread to her other lung or that the reason her catheter hadn’t been draining much was because the catheter wasn’t working and her lung was consequently filling up. It turns out neither one was the case. Phew!!! Her lungs both look fine and there is only a small amount of liquid in her left lung that should continue to drain out. Woohoo! We are hoping that if she continues to drain so little from her catheter, she will be able to have it removed. This would give her back a great deal of mobility and comfort.

Right now we are focusing on getting the nausea under control and looking forward to getting that catheter out. It’s the little things that count and we are taking life moment by moment. This morning Colin picked up my mom’s sister Devra at the airport while I got a few extra hours of much-needed sleep. A few hours after they were back, my mom had an hour when the oxycodone had kicked in and the nausea was under control. Devra rubbed her feet while Colin made us all some coffee. My mom lay down on the floor to do some stretches. She was smiling and talking before she dozed off into a peaceful sleep. Right now I am hanging out with my aunt, uncle and Butters in the living room. I am happy.

So that’s all for now folks. I apologize for the length of this post…I started writing having no idea what to say and the words just came tumbling out. My mom usually puts some parting words at the end of her posts so I guess I’ll follow in her footsteps. As the wise writers of Legally Blonde the Musical say, “Keep it Positive”. This is my new motto and I’m sticking with it. I have provided a YouTube link to the song below.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nw1f-1x8xQo

Also, my thanks and love to Ann Olivarius for encouraging me to write this.