Mom and I sit on the couch after a long week.
On Tuesday, we met with the doctor. No change on the Doxil. Still hasn't kicked in. Dr. Rushing says to give it another four weeks to see if her CA125 goes down.
Throughout the week, her creatine levels went up and down. Indicates how well her kidneys are filtering out toxins. She and dad go in tomorrow to see if it's time to see a urologist.
On Friday, she headed in for some fluids at the clinic. Blood pressure high...and then a headache so splitting they gave her morphine. It's taken her until this afternoon to get her legs beneath her again. She was pretty wobbly. And yesterday she was sick.
And yet, today, while Dad drops Jesse off at the train station, mom and I curl up beneath the quilt Sarah made, and we talk. I watch her eyes--her pupils are dilated from all of her medication--but she's breaking through the fuzziness to be there for me.
"Honey," she says. "Even though I'm loopy, I wouldn't want you not to tell me about how you're doing. There isn't drowsiness I wouldn't push through to talk."
I cry. And she holds my cheeks in her hands. She's still my momma--and so brave.
Valarie
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2 comments:
Your Mom? Hah! Always has been. Always will be.
I recall the time your folks were on their way to Barranquilla and stopped off to see me in New Orleans. When they were leaving to catch the plane out, you Dad took the bags and your Mom and I were to come by a different route, for reasons that are no longer clear. So she and I are at the bus stop waiting, and we discover the bus doesn't run that day, ergo no cheap way to the airport. Nowdays, this sort of thing would be trivial, but then, with all of us just out of college and not (to say the least) very affluent, this was a fiscal as well as a scheduling crisis. Even though she was no doubt under sufficient stress what with voyaging off to an unknown world for an unknown future (and as you know, things were certainly ... adventurous), your Mom never turned a hair, never uttered a deprecating word (although I'm inclined to believe it was my fault on the bus). We just worked things out and she bravely departed with a kiss. Not something I've ever forgotten (although I think they have, unless I brought it up). Grace under pressure: More often talked about than actually experienced.
Now me, I prefer to take my fluids at a bar than at a clinic. More agreeable atmosphere, I would imagine. But each to his or her own, I suppose, and perhaps that wouldn't be a good alternative.
Now to the Internet to find out what creatine and CA125 are. Such an education. (eyeroll)
Think of all the young women your age who are at war with their mothers over some accumulation of slights or whatever conflicts real or imagined, large or small. Not at all uncommon. You are, indeed, fortunate. Both of you. All of you.
Will, your words and humor keep us from getting too focused on the stupid stuff. We hear your encouragement and wrap it into our hearts. - Valarie
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