8:15 a.m. M.D. Anderson Emergency Room
Just around 5 hours ago I was writing the last post and now I sit alongside my mom's hospital bed in the emergency room. For mom to ask to be brought to the emergency room meant it was time to run and not take it lightly. She sleeps and meantime the doc is trying to find out what might be the trigger of what she's feeling. I'm praying its nothing major.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Day 10: Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Another day in Houston spent indoors taking care of mom. Did I mind? Not at all. I said from the beginning this trip wouldn't be a trip for diversions, it would be one to find a cure for mom, so the fact that I've had to stick around the past few days in the room with mom hasn't been a burden. She hears me type once again at 2:07 a.m. and again the noise awakens her. She briefly opens her eyes, winks at me with her right eye and crinkles her nose and back asleep she goes...this time even too tired to tell me to go to bed. I see her do that gesture and I can't help but smile and stare at her. Ironically at the same time the feeling of wanting to cry appears.
It was a long day in the sense that I felt tired, helpless, concerned and just a little overwhelmed. I finally cried today for a change. The people that know me know how sentimental I get, even with mushy commercials or greeting cards, but since arriving here in Houston I hadn't cried. I've been upset, even angry during these days but I hadn't cried and finally today I had a brief moment in the afternoon where I let it out and felt a weight lifted from me. It's funny how at times a friends voice on the other end of the phone can give you a sense of comfort, and today I had just that. It triggered that sense of relief I needed to feel, the feeling of 'everything's going to be alright' and deep down inside I know it will be.
I think what was hard about today was seeing mom have some irritable and moody spurts through the day—effects of the steroids she's taking in combination with the chemo. When they prescribed the steroids the nurse forewarned her that there'd be a possiblility she'd be getting grouchy. With my moms sense of humor she jokingly replied "I don't need steroids to be grouchy." But lately it's been slightly difficult to deal with. She gets a little irritated, upset, bothered with little things and then raises her voice. Even though it's something you know is being caused by the meds and it's very subtle, at the moment you feel a sense of frustration, as if you're doing what you can but it ain't enough. Then I pause for a second and once again I stare at my tired mother and my frustration is gone.
She had trouble breathing today as well. Getting me worried of course. She claimed she felt a little congestion, but a few hours ago she woke up saying she felt anxiety. Of course I asked if she wanted meds, if she felt okay and the reply "no" leaving me feeling helpless, observing her breathing pattern over the blanket making sure she's okay not even wanting to fall asleep (besides the fact that this night owl isn't near sleepy yet). So again I sit here in these morning hours writing my thoughts and keeping an eye on mom in between.
As if there wasn't enough on my mind, today I began classes. It's barely my second semester of grad school. The courses are to be taken online which makes it a little more challenging, having to organize your time, ensuring you're disciplined. And although I know I'll feel overwhelmed at times, I know my driving force will be my mother. For quite some time I had wanted to start on my masters, procrastinated for quite some time, until I finally decided to do it. Encouragement was a factor as well, but primarily part of me wanted to move on it for my mom—the driving force that I know will push me to do well and finish fast so that she may see me graduate and be proud of what she has come to accomplish as a single mother and the job-well-done she has made in raising her daughters and teaching them that education important in life.
I think about so many things that I wish and hope she wil see me accomplish that again I can't help but get a knot in my throat...I'll continue tomorrow.
It was a long day in the sense that I felt tired, helpless, concerned and just a little overwhelmed. I finally cried today for a change. The people that know me know how sentimental I get, even with mushy commercials or greeting cards, but since arriving here in Houston I hadn't cried. I've been upset, even angry during these days but I hadn't cried and finally today I had a brief moment in the afternoon where I let it out and felt a weight lifted from me. It's funny how at times a friends voice on the other end of the phone can give you a sense of comfort, and today I had just that. It triggered that sense of relief I needed to feel, the feeling of 'everything's going to be alright' and deep down inside I know it will be.
I think what was hard about today was seeing mom have some irritable and moody spurts through the day—effects of the steroids she's taking in combination with the chemo. When they prescribed the steroids the nurse forewarned her that there'd be a possiblility she'd be getting grouchy. With my moms sense of humor she jokingly replied "I don't need steroids to be grouchy." But lately it's been slightly difficult to deal with. She gets a little irritated, upset, bothered with little things and then raises her voice. Even though it's something you know is being caused by the meds and it's very subtle, at the moment you feel a sense of frustration, as if you're doing what you can but it ain't enough. Then I pause for a second and once again I stare at my tired mother and my frustration is gone.
She had trouble breathing today as well. Getting me worried of course. She claimed she felt a little congestion, but a few hours ago she woke up saying she felt anxiety. Of course I asked if she wanted meds, if she felt okay and the reply "no" leaving me feeling helpless, observing her breathing pattern over the blanket making sure she's okay not even wanting to fall asleep (besides the fact that this night owl isn't near sleepy yet). So again I sit here in these morning hours writing my thoughts and keeping an eye on mom in between.
As if there wasn't enough on my mind, today I began classes. It's barely my second semester of grad school. The courses are to be taken online which makes it a little more challenging, having to organize your time, ensuring you're disciplined. And although I know I'll feel overwhelmed at times, I know my driving force will be my mother. For quite some time I had wanted to start on my masters, procrastinated for quite some time, until I finally decided to do it. Encouragement was a factor as well, but primarily part of me wanted to move on it for my mom—the driving force that I know will push me to do well and finish fast so that she may see me graduate and be proud of what she has come to accomplish as a single mother and the job-well-done she has made in raising her daughters and teaching them that education important in life.
I think about so many things that I wish and hope she wil see me accomplish that again I can't help but get a knot in my throat...I'll continue tomorrow.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Mom's Journey: Day 9-Monday, January 26, 2009
Houston, Texas: 3:21 a.m., Holiday Inn Hotel Medical Center
I sit here resting my feet up on the bed, leaning on a reclinable desk chair writing what will be my first blog ever. The subject: My mothers battle with cancer and our trip which I'm hoping will be a beginning to our road to a miracle. I'd been wanting to find an outlet to write my thoughts on where we're going with all of this. My concerns, feelings and hopes. So I sit here, staring at my mother as she sleeps, wondering "Will the mom I've known all my life ever come back and return to who she was before this illness ever made its way into her body?"
I write this and I'm not sure who I'm writing it for. Is it for my mother? So that in some way I can make her importance known to strangers, people who might access this blog somewhere, to let them know that this woman in my life has been and will always be the most important being in my life. Is it for me? To have an outlet when I feel I don't want to overwhelm my siblings with my own concerns of what my mom's going through. Or is it for a stranger? Someone who might be out there struggling with this same battle in their life and needs someone to talk to. Whatever the reason, I want to keep track of this journey. A journey I'm hoping will end with a positive and uplifting ending.
While I write I look over and stare at my mom. Momentarily in the middle of typing the last sentence, she opens her eyes briefly, peeks at me and tells me "Ya acuestate!", meaning "Go to be now." She has a little tone to it, a tone that's more of an order rather than a suggestion—a little trait of hers that although it's made me huff at times, brings a smile to my face eventually because I know that's what makes her the mom I've always loved and I think that's what makes everything even harder to cope with. While I look at her, I see this tired being. A mom that's exhausted, physically more than emotionally. I can't recall the last time I knew of her having a full nights sleep or restful night since last year when she went to the hospital for the first time in April 2008. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine that a hospital visit that was needed due to high blood pressure would lead to a diagnosis months later that I'm sure neither one of us was prepared for. The diagnosis–Cancer. A type of cancer known as Multiple Myeloma. From that day forward, the mom I knew post April '08 hasn't returned.
The mom I knew before was full of energy, a single mother since October 1976, the month before I was born. A strong and independent woman who raised 3 daughters on her own. I the youngest, her "baby". A term that even to this day she still uses at my age of 32. It's funny how we think as individuals. I used to cringe when we'd run into old acquaintances and she'd say "Es mi bebita", "She's my baby." I recall feeling a sense a embarassment or having that feeling of "Oh my god, why does mom have to say that?" And today, well now I want to have her say it as much as possible to anyone. I guess it's true what people say "It's the little things that matter" and I know that someday those are the things I'll remember most about mom.
In the meantime, with the many years I know mom will have to live, because I have faith that miracles do happen, I want to make it my mission to make the most of the time I have to spend with her. While I glance at her I think back to months prior when I had different priorities. Even after mom was diagnosed I seemed to be distracted. I wanted to maintain my life going as it was prior to mom getting sick. I look back now and I'm not sure if it was my way of coping with the harsh reality, pretending that things would be fine or that they were as usual if I went about my daily routine. Maybe part of me thought that if I remained distracted it would help the pain go away. If anything, it made things worse. A punishment for veering away from my mother when she needed me most? Perhaps. Almost 100% positive. But since around the end of October or so I've seen things with a different perspective. Nothing matters, only her. I used to even feel guilty for not dedicating enough time to other things, there was a guilt brought upon me. Even not dedicating extra time to work was there, and at this moment I wonder why did that even matter or why should anything else matter at this point in time. I want to surround myself with my mom, my family and friends that will make all of this easier for me and all of us to cope with. It's a journey I want to take alongside those who will make the journey easier not harder. And perhaps out in this blog world, other people will find a way to share their journey as well as I am seeking to do.
The time now, 5 a.m. I guess time flys when you're deep in thought or just have a whirlwind of thoughts crossing your mind. Sitting in this hotel room, I stand up and peek out the window. When I look out I see the surrounding buildings. Directly across I see the Shriner's Hospital which just two days ago closed its doors due to budget cuts, people losing their jobs, patients being relcoated to nearby hospitals. I glance at the other buildings I can get a glimpse of and I get a knot in my throat thinking I still can't believe we here in Houston, Texas, right in the heart of the M.D. Anderson Cancer Medical Center area. A place where people come from all over the world to be seen and treated, with hopes of being cured...and here we are, with my mother—another hopeful, another patient, another miracle waiting to happen.
It's past 5 and I'm not even sleepy.. Actually, come to think of it, I shouldn't be. I spent all day alongside my mother. Her entire day was spent in bed sleeping and resting. A long and tiresome day for her. Her second round of her current chemo finishes today and her steroids ended yesterday. I think the effects of the medication have taken a told on her physically this round in terms of exhaustion. She slept for the most part and for the most part I laid at her side not wanting to do anything else, but that. Some would say it was time wasted, I would say it was worth every minute.
I sit here resting my feet up on the bed, leaning on a reclinable desk chair writing what will be my first blog ever. The subject: My mothers battle with cancer and our trip which I'm hoping will be a beginning to our road to a miracle. I'd been wanting to find an outlet to write my thoughts on where we're going with all of this. My concerns, feelings and hopes. So I sit here, staring at my mother as she sleeps, wondering "Will the mom I've known all my life ever come back and return to who she was before this illness ever made its way into her body?"
I write this and I'm not sure who I'm writing it for. Is it for my mother? So that in some way I can make her importance known to strangers, people who might access this blog somewhere, to let them know that this woman in my life has been and will always be the most important being in my life. Is it for me? To have an outlet when I feel I don't want to overwhelm my siblings with my own concerns of what my mom's going through. Or is it for a stranger? Someone who might be out there struggling with this same battle in their life and needs someone to talk to. Whatever the reason, I want to keep track of this journey. A journey I'm hoping will end with a positive and uplifting ending.
While I write I look over and stare at my mom. Momentarily in the middle of typing the last sentence, she opens her eyes briefly, peeks at me and tells me "Ya acuestate!", meaning "Go to be now." She has a little tone to it, a tone that's more of an order rather than a suggestion—a little trait of hers that although it's made me huff at times, brings a smile to my face eventually because I know that's what makes her the mom I've always loved and I think that's what makes everything even harder to cope with. While I look at her, I see this tired being. A mom that's exhausted, physically more than emotionally. I can't recall the last time I knew of her having a full nights sleep or restful night since last year when she went to the hospital for the first time in April 2008. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine that a hospital visit that was needed due to high blood pressure would lead to a diagnosis months later that I'm sure neither one of us was prepared for. The diagnosis–Cancer. A type of cancer known as Multiple Myeloma. From that day forward, the mom I knew post April '08 hasn't returned.
The mom I knew before was full of energy, a single mother since October 1976, the month before I was born. A strong and independent woman who raised 3 daughters on her own. I the youngest, her "baby". A term that even to this day she still uses at my age of 32. It's funny how we think as individuals. I used to cringe when we'd run into old acquaintances and she'd say "Es mi bebita", "She's my baby." I recall feeling a sense a embarassment or having that feeling of "Oh my god, why does mom have to say that?" And today, well now I want to have her say it as much as possible to anyone. I guess it's true what people say "It's the little things that matter" and I know that someday those are the things I'll remember most about mom.
In the meantime, with the many years I know mom will have to live, because I have faith that miracles do happen, I want to make it my mission to make the most of the time I have to spend with her. While I glance at her I think back to months prior when I had different priorities. Even after mom was diagnosed I seemed to be distracted. I wanted to maintain my life going as it was prior to mom getting sick. I look back now and I'm not sure if it was my way of coping with the harsh reality, pretending that things would be fine or that they were as usual if I went about my daily routine. Maybe part of me thought that if I remained distracted it would help the pain go away. If anything, it made things worse. A punishment for veering away from my mother when she needed me most? Perhaps. Almost 100% positive. But since around the end of October or so I've seen things with a different perspective. Nothing matters, only her. I used to even feel guilty for not dedicating enough time to other things, there was a guilt brought upon me. Even not dedicating extra time to work was there, and at this moment I wonder why did that even matter or why should anything else matter at this point in time. I want to surround myself with my mom, my family and friends that will make all of this easier for me and all of us to cope with. It's a journey I want to take alongside those who will make the journey easier not harder. And perhaps out in this blog world, other people will find a way to share their journey as well as I am seeking to do.
The time now, 5 a.m. I guess time flys when you're deep in thought or just have a whirlwind of thoughts crossing your mind. Sitting in this hotel room, I stand up and peek out the window. When I look out I see the surrounding buildings. Directly across I see the Shriner's Hospital which just two days ago closed its doors due to budget cuts, people losing their jobs, patients being relcoated to nearby hospitals. I glance at the other buildings I can get a glimpse of and I get a knot in my throat thinking I still can't believe we here in Houston, Texas, right in the heart of the M.D. Anderson Cancer Medical Center area. A place where people come from all over the world to be seen and treated, with hopes of being cured...and here we are, with my mother—another hopeful, another patient, another miracle waiting to happen.
It's past 5 and I'm not even sleepy.. Actually, come to think of it, I shouldn't be. I spent all day alongside my mother. Her entire day was spent in bed sleeping and resting. A long and tiresome day for her. Her second round of her current chemo finishes today and her steroids ended yesterday. I think the effects of the medication have taken a told on her physically this round in terms of exhaustion. She slept for the most part and for the most part I laid at her side not wanting to do anything else, but that. Some would say it was time wasted, I would say it was worth every minute.
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