One of those weeks

So this last week was one of those weeks. We want to hope that the care mom is receiving in the hospital is optimal, but when dealing with cancer it truly takes a village. Last Sunday she was moved from ICU to a intermediate care floor.  Mom was distance and listless. The doctor's had her on a tube feed in her nose and they moved it to her stomach.  No sooner than that procedure was completed than they were wanting to release her from the hospital.

Mom is on her 2nd round of chemo, her muscle mass is diminished and her mental status is shaky at best. So, our anxiety levels were extremely high. The good news was that the chemo appears to be working and that the tumors are shrinking. We were scrambling to secure a place that would offer mom skilled nurses and attend to her needs. This was not part of the plan.

Then this Friday we got great news and we got not so great news. That's cancer though, right? you get debilitating  news and a silver lining. I walked into mom's ICU room and she smiled. Her sweet, all knowing and accepting smile. I haven't seen it for weeks. We talked , which we haven't talked, like she's been asleep. She was awake and knew what was going on. She had questions.Which means that this whole time she's been in the hospital she doesn't remember and she doesn't know why. So its been a gentle conversation breaking the news.

That's the good news. The bad news is while the attending was deeming my mother medically stable enough to leave the hospital blood cots from her chemo medication formed in her legs and lungs.  Mom had a pulmonary infarction and has some dead tissue in her lungs..

Keep in mind that after this happened when she was back to normal mentally. so physically there is a battle and mentally there is victory. I really don't know what tomorrow will bring, but she is blessed and highly favored and that's evident in the fact that she stills fighting like a champ.

Rollercoasters

Today is the first day I think I've allowed myself to feel the full weight of what's happening with mom. To really acknowledge the tired and the sad. I have been going full steam ahead on team cancer sucks and I haven't taken the time to really "feel my feelings". Which was nice. I actually slept in and did very little all day. Except allow some Ben and Jerry's indulgence.
They have moved mom from ICU to the cancer wing of the hospital. That is at once amazing and terrifying. I'm trying to stay focused on the fact that she has improved so much that they were able to move her. To compare, ICU was like a 5 star restaurant of patient care, attentive and anticipating her every whim; where we are now is like Pappasito's it's nice enough but sometimes you have to make some noise to get decent service.
Because her disease incapacitated her in such a quick and severe way she has suffered a lot of trauma. From surgeries and disease and now chemotherapy. It's hard for her care team to grasp that just mere weeks ago she was an active contributing member of society. That has been the major struggle of the week is getting her care team to see who she is and how to best help her.
She's very confused and overwhelmed and if I could take this struggle away from her I would. The truth is though it's her fight and all I can do is be there as much as I can and let her know she has lots of love in her corner. I've heard that cancer is like a roller coaster, it's up and it's down and that is certainly true.
Mom's doctor said it's normal for her memory to come and go as she heals. Which is really hard for me because there are times when I don't know if she recognizes me. I have to be very deliberate in acknowledging that this is a blessing too as its brought me closer to her than we have been in years and our bond is stronger than ever. Even though she is confused I know she realizes that I am there and that's a comfort to me.
She's sitting up which is a new development. It's not for long and it's obviously exhausting to her. yesterday when I went to hug her goodbye she tried to lock her arm around my neck and hitch a ride out of there! So I know she's ready to be up and better just as fast as her little body will let her. Asking for continued prayers.

Thousands of tiny miracles

So we are 4 days out from mom's 3rd brain surgery and the difference is extremely encouraging. She's more alert, her eyes are open for the first time in weeks; she's talking. Today was the first time that i have heard her say my name in over three weeks. It may seem like not much but it is exponential to how she was just three days ago or even yesterday. God is performing thousands of tiny little miracles of healing and recoupment on her every second of everyday.
The day before her surgery  the speech therapist, which I'm not sure why they call him that because he was mostly concerned about her breathing, said that their was a high level of carbon dioxide in her blood.  This meant she was not expressing enough air out of her body to clear the carbon dioxide. So they intubated her. Which to me was scary because ..ew....who wants a tube down their throat? Also, because they said if after surgery they decide to extubate and she showed distress again they would put a trach tube in. This is not something that we want for my mother and have been very prayerful that this precaution does not
become a necessity.
Saturday after surgery her eyes were open and she recognized loved ones. She was in obvious discomfort from surgery and her eyes held a sorrow that you knew was for this thing down her throat.
This weekend she was all about holding hands. She held her sisters hand, my hand; even the nurses hand. If you think she's in a weakened state than you were not present when I told her I had to leave on Sunday. She squeezed my hand so hard I had a flashback to when I was an unruly five year old in the grocery store parking lot and her death grip was the only thing saving me from oncoming traffic.
Today as I came in to room, i could see from down the hall her wide open  eyes and her more astute posture. They had removed the dread breathing apparatus. I was so excited about all these things that l beamed to the nurses what a amazing day it was.
She is definitely still confused and when I asked her where she was she told me the place where she worked. I saw miracles in action as I sat there holding her hand she willed herself to be less confused and even though it was exhausting to her healing body she called me by name and when I told her I love her this sassy thing says"Isn't that sweet"  After which she immediately fell asleep and quickly shattered my heart in a million billion pieces...I kid, but everyday is an improvement and while its a long road the doctors say her progress is optimal. Which I think optimal is my new favorite word.

we ask for prayers

So I have been  very prayerful on how to best share my mother's condition with everyone that love her and are concerned for her. Those that know her say simply that she's the nicest person they have ever met. Which if you've met my mother know exactly how profoundly true that statement is.
My mother is the definition of Christian love. She's patient, kind, she never boasts, she's slow to anger. Yesterday this painfully kind; adorably sweet woman was diagnosed with lymphoma in her brain. Tumors in her nervous system that are localized to her brain. At first the doctors thought it was breast cancer, 27 years in remission, that had mestatisized in her brain. Our huge relief for the week was that she had a second type of cancer in her lifetime, but a second type that's more treatable.
As daunting as that sounds it's the additional diagnosis of hydrophelaus that is giving her the most problems. Her responses are little and my normally chatty mother sleeps all day.
 Its in this that you begin to see this kind lady's intense strength and ferious fight. When you realize this diagnosis came after 10 days of extensive MRI'S, catscans, TWO surgeries on her brain to relief brain pressure and to biopsy the lesions in her brain. I will just add for comparisons sake that I  had a c-section when Zoe was born  and was a whiney baby for 14 days. She's had 2 surgeries on her freaking brain and she hasn't complained once.

These two weeks have been exhausting as this is an angry and progressive disease. Especially when you realize that one month ago none of this was even on our radar. She was fine, had her schedule,  took the bus to work. She had a full life. Then 3 1/2 weeks ago  she woke up from a nap and the right side of her face was drooping. My brother was there and immediately called an ambulance thinking she'd had a stroke. 

She was diagnosed with bells palsy and sent home with an antiviral. It was there she went to nap for 

 the next week and some days. We thought, she's older, maybe whatever virus gave her bells palsy is really doing a number on her. She missed work and they needed a note from her doctor so I went to pick her up to take her to get a check-up. 

She was very confused but nothing we hadn't seen in our mom before. She works nights and it's happened before that she will push herself so hard that she's exhausted for days after.
  It wasn't until I made her sit up and put her feet on the ground that I knew something was very wrong. Her feet had only touched the ground and she screamed like they were burning. 

Trey and I managed a wheelchair and took her to the hospital and John and Julie met us there as where we sat with neurologists ,infectious disease doctors, surgeons and neurooncologists , listening to theory after theory as to what was happening in that brain of hers. All as we watched her go from throwing out silly jumbled phrases and eating mash potatoes to little to no response  and unable to eat without the aid of a feeding tube. 

So here she sits in neuro ICU with her first round of chemo completed and her 3rd surgery scheduled for tomorrow and I can't believe we are here. I'm emotional and exhausted. The rest of her family is the same. With varying degrees of coping.
At this point we want her back and we are in an amazing hospital with positive, competent, and skilled physicians and they say we should be purposely hopeful. For me that's reason enough to smile today and see what tomorrow brings my prize-fighter mother. I love you crazy diamond!