I got to visit M yesterday at the hospital, alone this time. She was sleeping as I walked in, and I hadn't been expecting that. I stood there wondering if I should wake her, not wanting to disturb her rest. Her breathing was laboured. I sent mental images of love and hugs and happiness to her. I was turning to leave when an aide came in, and in picking up her tray made the slightest of sounds. M opened her eyes, and saw me, and smiled such a sweet smile. She put her hand out toward mine, and softly said, "I'm so glad you came back."  We talked  a bit, and I got to tell her how much she meant to me, and how grateful and blessed I was to have known and loved and admired her. She is so humble, and modest. She said, I'm so happy for you and J--you seem so happy. I said, we are, very happy indeed.  She was so tired, and again said she just wanted to go home...

I didn't stay long--just enough to let her know I'd see her again soon.

I'm so relieved, and I feel so peaceful now that I've gotten to see her again. I can let her go  with a bit less heartache.

Tuesday

    We left Monday at 4:15 in the afternoon. About 15 miles down the road my cell phone buzzed, indicating a call had come through. Since I was driving I didn't look, but at the town 5 miles on we stopped for fuel and food (we hadn't had lunch). While J was getting the food, I checked my message.

     It was from C, a dear friend, and it said for me to call her right away. I did so, and C told me, choking on the words, that our dear sweet mentor/friend/grandmother/mother was in the hospital and getting ready to go on Hospice. She has an intestinal obstruction. At the age of 94, she does not want surgery to repair this, and just wants to go home, and be pain free. She has been in a lot of pain for many years, and basically house-bound for about 8 years. We in the 12-step program have a meeting at her apartment every Saturday, and while I lived in that town I attended that meeting. I attended every Saturday for many years. We also did things as a group with her-- took her camping, and singing karaoke at another friend's house, playing MahJong, picnics and BBQs on the coast trips we did several times a year, birthday parties, showers, plays, holidays. This woman is an amazing guide to me. After Gramma died, this dear lady became my honorary gramma. Not only to me, but to our close circle.

    She has a few days at most to live. C told me there were a few chosen people she wanted to see before she goes home (and is then sedated too heavily to be aware of who is there) and that J and I were in that group.  We were both crying by then, and I told her we were in WA but on our way home, that we'd be home by midnight, and asked if tomorrow would be okay. C said of course, and we talked a bit more before hanging up.

  We drove and drove toward home, arriving here after midnight; we  talked about this blow, and the visit with mom, and our impressions of L, her friend. We both liked her.   Obviously we are curious about this woman, who has become so close to mom; originally we didn't know what to think, whether to be mistrustful. But over time, Lyn and I have emailed, and gotten to know a bit about each other, and I think she's a good person.  It was nice to finally meet her face to face, and put that name to a face. We hugged hello, and I thanked her for coming, and we took each other's measure. We exchanged and updated information re mom, and basically changed shifts. She will be there a week.

      Monday I'd spent most of the day on the phone, making Mom's payment arrangements, notifying all of her condition, and interspersing that with packing, and doing laundry, finishing our last chores and things Mom wanted done. She slept a good portion of the day. She is only able to sit up for 15-20 minutes, before needing to lie down; many times as she lies down, she ends up dozing. She was quite ill Sunday, and spent a lot of time in the bathroom. J and I did the burn barrel, the vacuuming of the  entire house emptying my vacuum's canister twice in the process, and I found much to my dismay a whole cardboard box *filled* with bills from many months ago. I almost cried--I thought I'd found them all on my first trip at the end of April. So I went through all of those, listening to J and mom talking, or if Mom was sleeping then J was outside working on the garage.

      On our Monday and on the drive home we saw: a deer wandering through mom's back yard, a huge toad under some boards by the barn, a big ol rattlesnake on her driveway, a gorgeous male pheasant, a grouse, a coyote pup trying to cross the highway--he made it safely after first cowering on the road too terrified to move---and a huge bighorn sheep down near JohnDay.  What an odd collection of sights.

     Our little car was absolutely stuffed to the brim. Mom has given J an ancient  captain's desk she had. It's in bad shape, but it has the potential to be quite beautiful; J being a sailor is utterly thrilled to have it, and insisted we take it with us home, rather than waiting til the next trip. She gave me the dishes  that I remember Gramma using from way back in Boston; she was going to sell them!  I said "What!  I love those dishes!" She was shocked, and said, "Oh! then please take them! I didn't know!" 

    I'm pretty tired, drained, and my eyes are about stressed to the max. I have to go take my contacts out--too much crying today. We went to visit my mentor, in her hospital room,  and that was a heartbreaking visit. She looks wonderful--pale and pretty soft skin, thick curly white hair, soft murmuring voice, holding my hand tightly as I tried to not-cry. I didn't get a chance to tell her what I wanted to tell her-- after only a few minutes someone else came to visit. Then a few more showed up. One is a dear 12-step friend also, who was in as emotional a state as I was, trying not to openly cry but unable to. We  saw  some relatives arriving for their final visit, and we kissed her goodbye, and I told her I'd come visit tomorrow, whether she is at home or in the hospital. Then we left and both of us broke down completely, me and S, the friend. We just stood there in the hallway, J with his arm around me, patting S's shoulder soothingly, while S and I were hugging.

   I do understand this is all a part of life, the Great Cycle. But it is hard for the ones who are left behind. My mentor is very religious and also spiritual, and is not unhappy to be "going home to my Lord";  we are the ones who will miss her physical presence. I've been told it is selfish to cry, because we "should be happy for the one leaving this Earth"...okay, then I am selfish.


     My, how I will miss her. She has taught me so much and I've learned so much. She has been as S said a guiding light for so many of us. She is the "founder" of  the AlAnon groups in Southern Oregon and the Willamette Valley where I live; so many many people have been touched by her. She at 94 has been in AlAnon for over 52 years.  It might be actually 54 years  now...I don't remember.

    Tomorrow I will go back to work, and then since it's Wednesday I'll leave early and stop by the hospital or her apartment.

   J is getting ready to cook dinner--it's 5:30, and I think both of us will be ready for another good night's sleep. It's nice to be in the same bed again; at mom's there are twin beds formerly belonging to my gramma,  and while they are comfy, I'm not used to sleeping apart from my hubby. I am so glad to be home, and dearly hope we do not have to make another emergency trip again.  J's eldest daughter is due to arrive for a week *next* Sunday, the 3rd. I've never met her,  so am looking forward to this.
 

Monday

  Early, still. We were up at 6, having for the first time slept all night without waking, or waking too early. Phew!

   My brother has so thoughtfully sent a check to help out with gas expenses, and when I let J know this, he said,"You know, we *should* figure out a way to work this (the fact of this donation and Megan's contribution) into the conversation with your mom--she thinks she's been abandoned by them? --maybe this will give her something to think about. Maybe she needs to know how much you are being supported by them through this process." I think he may be right.

   So many of the conversations we have had with her are her bringing up the past, and how so-and-so let her down, and this person betrayed her, and that person "couldn't even send $5? give me a break!"  (That last comment was *spoken to* J, but she identified those persons as 'my own three children, my own flesh and blood refused to help me!'--even as several other friends had come out of the woodwork to respond to her Internet plea for financial help a few years ago.)

    She knew I was right there listening, as I sorted and filed through yet another box filled with mail she had ignored for months. And clearly she had to know J and I both decided at the time not to help out, but she confronted him anyway.  But J knew how to respond to this bitterness. In my own mind I was shouting back, "Well hellooo, what does that tell you, if your own children decide not to fund you??" At the time of course, I didn't respond, and let J handle it, as he is So. Damn. Good.  at listening, and  making her feel heard; however he is also the Master at deflecting that bitterness, and turning it around with another perspective, or another example he can relate from his own life.

     At times he responds to her as a peer and parent, having made many mistakes in the past with his own now-grown kids. At other times he responds to her as a friend, actually inserting into his comments things like, "My friend, this is something we may never know the answer to. In my mind this is how I look at it...", and he shares his own thought processes. He has always been word-generous, and calls me honey, or dearest, or various other *numerous*  other pet names.  He does the same with her, and has said to her, "Girl, you would not believe..." or "Honey, can I help you up out of that chair?" Or, "but Helena dear....". I listen in amazement. All the endearments are foreign to me; I cannot bring myself to say those words to J usually, much less my mom. But this is the way he speaks, to all. And she loves it, responds to it, opens up like a flower. She cries at the drop of a hat. And he is so sympathetic, so *empathetic*; he can honestly relate to much of her thinking, but through years and years of his own experiences, and the years of counseling and self-examination, he has worked through many of the same issues, and holds very little  anger or bitterness of his own. I think she sees this, and wants the same gift of having forgiven and *been* forgiven, yet she honestly doesn't understand.  I learn compassion  for her, from listening to them discussing these issues. Sometimes she will bring up something entirely unrelated, and launch into a tirade or try to give him the back story-- and he listens and then goes along with that detour; eventually he brings her back and completes the original discussion, having inserted large doses of perspective and logic. He thinks she is a Jekyll/Hyde personality, and is deeply aware of her personality switches.

   And amazingly she is riveted by his experiences, by the way he tells stories, by the way he thinks and feels.  She watches him speak, and listens intently, and then gestures at him wildly with her cigarette, "But then how do you explain such-and-such?"  Or (my favorite) "Yes, but..." and then pointing out how he is wrong, or how her experience is quite different and doesn't apply to his thoughts. Then he calmly listens, and thinks, and then shares his idea on how she may be right, "but let's look at it this way."  It is absolutely fascinating to listen and watch how he does this.  I so admire how he is genuinely himself, sharing his genuine and honest feelings; and in listening I can see how she is, in his words, "all twisted up inside". It give me compassion, and I can feel myself calming down. It's like watching a lion-tamer, or a hypnotist. There is a way he has of remaining focused and refusing to be deflected, but also able to deflect and re-direct the negative stuff she is spewing, to hopefully enable her to see things another less-paranoid way.  I said to him this morning, "I feel I'm watching Dr Phil, confronting in a direct and respectful and no-bullshit way." And she is thinking. This is forcing her to look at her actions. How did she contribute to the various messes. How can she repair, or alter  her own actions to get a result she can be happy with, instead of hovering over and feeding the dis-harmonic, soul-eating river of old hurts and puzzlements.

Well, I've probably written too much, but I wanted to get this down. I wish I had that talent for conversing at the time. This visit I've remained largely quiet if he and she are talking. These sessions alternate with him being outside working like a horse. He's cleaned out the garage and sorted into piles: garden stuff, car stuff, building stuff which is useful and which is no-good, trash, and recycles. One of the things I will be doing this morning is calling the Dump to arrange for either a home pick-up, or possibly we'll do a run to the Dump, depending on the costs.
     Also he's taken care more of the weed-eating, and more work on the barn, and cleaning out the old VW.  What a job *that* was. We called the person who originally told her he wanted it, and found out he doesn't after all. The van needs a lot of work, but J wanted to get it at least cleaned out and ready for showing to prospective buyers.  If she can only get $800 for it, at least that'll be something, and it'll be out of here. One less thing to worry about.
    She  apparently thought she had to paint and prep the house before she died for *my* sake--so I wouldn't have to deal with it after she was gone. We straightened her out on that-- and have said she doesn't have to do anything, ever; that whatever time she has left should be spent on enjoying her life, and letting someone else do the worrying. Whatever state the place is in at the End, we will deal with it. She started crying again at that, and appears vastly relieved.

   I can hear her sitting up, moaning, and crying out with difficulty. Time for me to go.

Sunday, at Mom's

  I was so tired yesterday evening, and J was too. We did so much here yesterday. Mom seems to be a bit better, as in talking more coherently. I think that since she has been on the antibiotics for a 4 days now, they are finally kicking in. We are having to work on her constantly to eat--she can only manage a few bites before having to go lie down. Not from pain, from weakness.

But we did manage to go outside in the mid-afternoon and sit in the sun, while she looked over what J had done. He has weed-eated almost everywhere at her direction, and taken over the barn stuff with the goats. He's also taken care of the baby chicks. When we arrived I was expecting to find them dead, but they were out of their cardboard carrier (which is where I'd last seen them 2 weeks ago) and someone had put them into a small wire cage, about a 10-gallon size which also holds their water dispenser and food dispenser; J found on the property an old abandoned rabbit hutch thing, and that is now in the coop. Mom wanted the baby chicks in the coop but separated from the existing flock till all get adjusted to each other. So we'll move the chicks into that today. Mom wanted the coop "scraped out and dug out", and so J  suggested a complete pressure-water hosing of the coop instead--it's disgusting to my eyes but J says it's pretty typical for coops he's seen.   (Maybe ours is just cleaner because I'm insisting on it! J privately told me there was no point in doing a bang-up job, not only because he didn't have a mask to protect himself, but because within a few months we're guessing that all the chickens and roosters  etc will be parceled out to new owners. It's not worth the time involved, in other words. So if she's happy with a good power-washing down, that's good enough for me.)

 So J is now tackling the garage. It's impossible to explain or describe the state of that. Not only is the ancient VW van in there, but any conglomeration of things. I can't even bring myself to detail it: J started it yesterday, and stopped for a while to do the weed-eating, then he'd take a break for food or medicating, and then go back to the garage. In between and during all this, mom was up and in her chair, or stretched out on the sofa, or lying in bed, awake barely but sometimes dozing. When awake, she was talking talking talking, bringing up past events, discussing things with J. He is so good with her-- I cannot begin to praise him enough. Somehow he has the knack of knowing exactly what to say to seemingly agree with her, but not. Hes cheerful, patient, happy to sit and listen, and equally happy to talk and share *his* life experiences. He is a godsend.

Enough--she is awake.

Saturday, at Mom's

I was forwarded mom's response to her friend Lyn's query of "are you okay? haven't heard from you!". This response shocked and scared Lyn to the point of her asking me if it was possible to go on up this weekend, as in, now. (I read that response, and was scared out of my mind--she was making no sense, couldn't spell, couldn't put words together, sounded way worse on paper than I've ever seen or heard.)


I read that email yesterday morning, and read that out loud to J as we were having our morning tea. He immediately said, "Well, Toots, let's get packed..." And so we skipped breakfast, and started packing. I had a doctor appt of my own at 8:30, so I went to that while J took care of things around the house, in preparation for us to leave as soon as  I got back. We were packed and had notified all by 10:30, and got on the road. Arrived here last night around 7, and discovered mom pretty darn weak, pretty sick, not with nausea that I can see, but with unpleasant physical effects. She's been on antibiotics for a bit over 48 hours now, so hopefully she'll be feeling better soon.

We brought Murphy of course, and he did well on the long 8 hour ride. Slept most of the way on my lap whether I was driving or not. Once here, he was excited to meet the house dog, Grace, the Akita. They are adjusting to each other's presence, and playing a lot. Murphy spotted one of the cats, and happily bounced off after it---which earned a feeble roar from mom not to chase the kitties!  Poor Murphy-- our kitties at home are very tolerant of him, and they stand their ground and swat back if they don't want to play.

The house smells so strongly of smoke. It's so difficult to breathe when she is up because if she is awake, she is smoking. Luckily someone has fixed the screen door, and so we can leave that latched and the open windows   do create a cross breeze. The section where we sleep is much easier to be in, although the windows do need to be open. The house was/is a mess, as usual-- mostly clutter that builds up because there is no place to put anything. It's similar to a hoarder's house, but not quite as bad; and it has become too much for her to manage. Why on earth she doesn't go on Hospice right away I don't know. That way there'd be some help here 24/7, which she desperately needs.

J is working outside on the list she has left us: she is lying in bed, dozing, coughing, the tv is on in her room. I am getting ready for the day. I woke early, and lay there for awhile not able to shut my brain off. Finally I thought, maybe I'll just get up and at least work on the laptop. I checked my phone for the time: it was 4:30. Good god. J woke up too, and we talked a bit about what was going on, and what our thoughts were. We went back to sleep for awhile and got up for good at 6. It's now almost 9 and I'm just about done writing.  It'll be a long day.

Thursday

    Well, I'm very glad I did Mom call last night. I was so concerned that she was upset with my email--- and it turns out to be (surprise! not about me at all!)  she had been having several unpleasant nosebleeds since Tuesday night, unable to stop the bleeding. With her weakened immune system, this could have had a far worse ending. Instead, she found someone who would drive her to the doctor yesterday at the nearby clinic to see her regular doc, and he diagnosed her with a sinus infection. So she has antibiotics, and the friend was there when I called. Not a long call, and no discussion at all of anything in my email. Just a basic checking in, and she expressed extreme relief and pleasure that I had called. She was really afraid she was dying.

    For some reason she thinks the people at the CancerCare place are "lying" to her.  It seems when she called them about the nosebleeds, they said, yeah, this is a common occurrence with chemo, not to worry.  Well, she *did* worry, and called the local doc, who said sure, come in, we'll take a look. "Lie" number 1. In her mind. 

   Also, the first oncology doc told her there would be minimal hair loss with her particular concoction of chemo. Having now lost 99% of her hair, she considers this "lie" number 2.

    Also he told her minimal nausea, again, with her set of chemo drugs. "Lie" number 3. I don't know if I helped at all, but I pointed out that maybe the vast majority of patients *do* experience minimal hair loss and nausea...and maybe her system just didn't respond the way most do. That doesn't make it a lie. (Although I do agree maybe he could have been more specific, more explanatory. This is part of the reason she switched to the other oncologist, the inability to trust and communicate with Doc 1.) Whatever. I hate that she is so paranoid, so convinced to believe the worst about the medical profession. 

   And I know, or I should know and remember by now, that she didn't want my point of view, she wanted...wait for it...validation. 

   (I have to stop being bitchy about that word. It has become such a joke word for me now. J will tease me, earnestly asking if he is validating me enough. Then we both laugh.)

     I have a doctor appt of my own tomorrow, with my new primary care. (I still consider her "new", although this will be the 3rd or 4th time I've seen her. I'm still deciding if I can work with her: I don't like that I don't feel quite comfortable with her.) This will be a followup on my bursitis, and my stomach issues. I think I'm ready to try the shot for the bursitis, as the ongoing pain in my left hip is clearly not getting better. But I just don't *want* a shot!  Plus, some of my friends have had them for bursitis in the hip or shoulder or elbow, and they didn't help. I'm worried it won't help me, and that I will be stuck paying for this even though it didn't help. With all the medical bills we currently have, the last thing we need is more money owed. And the stomach issues: so far the probiotics do seem to be helping, or at least the situation isn't getting worse.

   I'm at work again, and it's almost 1pm. My bossM did come in to make his presence known while my patient was here, but my second patient rescheduled for next week...so M left a bit ago, and I am here on my own. I'm fine with that. Gives me plenty of time to do research, catch up on emails, take care of issues both personal and professional. 

   Today's lunch was cut up fruit, and a salad made entirely of the greens from our own garden (and some dressing which didn't). It was yummy.

     Yesterday was J's payday, so we did our usual moving of some of that automatic  deposit to our shared bill-paying account. We have certain bills allocated to be paid out of each of the three pay periods each month, and yesteday's collection to be paid was Verizon, the water bill, and the Comcast bill. Unfortunately the Comcast bill was just under $90! J promptly called and questioned that: turns out our introductory 6month period (of all the channels  including  Oprah's network) was over, so instead of approximately $40 a month, it went up to its regular price. As he was on the phone I had to do the right thing;  I mouthed to him to drop it down to the next tier....sigh. So he did, and now our regular cable bill will be $30.  That makes a huge difference. That along with our hi-speed-I bill of $25 makes our total Comcast bill about $55, instead of that $90. And so we gave up all the "good channels"--my HGTV and Oprah, and all the Encore movie channels and Biography, A&E, TLC, TBS, TMC...argghh.   I hated giving those up and J hated giving up his history and military channels, and the science channels, and the OnDemand channel...but we needed to do this. Not only were we watching a lot of tv in the evenings, we have plenty of other things to be doing.   Much better for our budget, too.

  I think we have to find a place where we can rent movies, now. Will be investigating Blockbuster, which is right next to our grocery store anyway. Very convenient, since the Hollywood Video closed.

   I'm entering a story-writing contest, too. Am working on that today, for the rest of the 2 hours I will be here; I have an outline, and just need to type it up....there's a $3000 prize!
  

Wednesday

   This morning I received two emails, one from my dad, and one from Lyn, the friend of mom's who visits her frequently. Both expressed deep concern over me, and mom's condition. In responding to each it helped me to clarify exactly what I had to do, as far as bringing up my own concerns to her. I had been putting that off, for fear of angering or upsetting her.

   So I did--bit the bullet and emailed her, being fairly forceful? direct? concerned? and  here it is, several hours later--no response. I think she may be upset. Sigh. I started  the email by saying I *didn't* want to upset her, and that I was afraid I might make her angry or make her cry or make her who-knows-what, but that I needed to express myself  over the state of her finances, and of her animals. (I think I phrased this quite well actually. I had J read it also, to make sure it was respectful, and not in-your-face,  and not blaming.)  I am hoping it expressed to her the urgency of her situation, and how worried I was, and yet how critical it is to take care of these issues. I even offered again to come up this weekend if she needed me to.

   Well, nothing to do now except wait.

    J came down with me to go work with a friend doing some painting, and Murphy stayed in my office with me. He disgraced himself by both peeing and pooping in the office!  I was deeply embarrassed, and scolded him. Then I had to keep him inside my own office, with the door shut, til J came back for me at noon. We left then, and went to visit/review/take photos of  an apartment complex that J's daughter is considering moving to. She accepted a job in that town, at a major jewelery store chain, and will be moving there end of next month, so J is overjoyed at how close she will be. It's a nice apartment, and would be a great location for her, across the street from the Mall. 

  Then we drove home and stopped at the bank, came home and worked on bills, went for our walk with the dog, and talked alot about the possibilities re Mom.

   Just have to wait and see how things work out...

Tuesday

   During the day yesterday I was getting weird messages intermittently from mom, so I talked about it with J last night. He said finally that it sounded like I felt I "should" go up and check on her, if she wasn't capable of coming right out and saying Yes, please come up.  I said, "No, no, I really don't want to offer to do that! What if she says Yes, come??"  And he said, "Then we'll go. We'll drive up Thursday night or Friday morning, and be there, til her friend arrives Monday". And he added, "Sometimes the right thing to do is the hardest. No one said this was going to be easy--in fact, I think it's the hardest thing you're going to be doing for quite some time."
 
   Oh.

   So I finally did. Sent an email to her expressing my concern, and asking if she needed us to come back up this weekend. Then I emailed my sister, and vented.

    This morning in my inbox were emails from both, and short story is no, mom doesn't necessarily need us to come up. But she phrased it "Noooooo, I don't think that's what I'm saying..." And she added how touched she was that we had offered.  And there was a very reassuring email from my sister, too. Saying all the right things, as usual. I don't know how she does it. I felt instantly so much better. Turns out we had both been having a rough couple of days, and --how odd is this-- we had both apologized to our husbands on Sunday for being "high maintenance". Now, I don't know about her, but I almost never use that term.  Spoooooky.

    Our husbands of course never consider either of us "high maintenance", but even if they did, they are both the kind of men who would instantly do and say anything to help us feel better. That's because they are our best friends. A husband as a best friend is different than a sister as a best friend...but I'm not sure how to describe the difference. 

    I don't normally consider myself to *have* one best friend; I have three very dear female friends, and my sister, and  a couple of wonderful male friends, all of whom I can share anything with. I have been blessed with my friends. These are my inner circle.

     In the second circle are my 12step friends, my daughter and sons, and J's friends who have become mine over the years.

   And in my third circle would be friends and relatives I don't see often but with whom I share a bond--my dad and brother, my cousins, my grandchildrens' moms and their families,  some former coworkers I used to be very close to due to our work situations, or my friends on the ChowChow support group online, and even some old HS buddies.

  Most  of them know what's going on in my life, but if they don't, it's because I haven't specifically spoken to each one about it. Nothing is a secret these days. That is such a relief: to know I don't have to keep things from certain people. Of course, if someone tells me something in private, that's different entirely: I definitely keep *other people's*  secrets. But there is such a difference between private, and secret.  It all comes down to respect-- for myself, for others, for our place in the world as decent humans.

Okay, off my soapbox.

   It's almost 3, and I will be leaving here then. My patients were this morning, and so was my monitor; BossM left at 1. BossJ won't be in this week at all, as I thought. 

   In the mail yesterday was the check from paypal for the item I sold on ebay, so I can take that to the bank on the way home. Ebay notified me via email of yet another fee for almost $20 which I owe them, ebay. Sigh.  Plus, another bill came from the facility where I had the endoscopy, and I owe them $687...this is after my insurance has paid their part. Ugh. That means I haven't received the bill yet for the gastric emptying study....Well, they will be added onto the list of bills-to-pay. Makes me wonder even more what our settlement will be from the lawsuit (against the makers of Darvon). Whatever it is, it will surely help.

Monday, more grief

    What a shock this morning: I just learned that BossJ's sister died yesterday. BossJ was actually on the flight home to Eugene late Sunday afternoon, and her other sister had left the hospital too, to drive back home to her house, when the sister passed. They called BossM  (her husband) to tell him, and so he had to break the news to BossJ when she got off the plane last night. That poor woman. From "your sister is very sick, and in the hospital and we don't know why--they're doing tests", to "your sister has lung cancer which has metastazised to the brain, and has 1-3 months to live", to "your sister died a couple of hours after you left", all in one week. I can't even imagine the grief.

 

    She probably will be out the rest of the week. I don't think she's going back for the funeral. The whole reason she felt urged to go last Tuesday was because she didn't want the next family reunion to be for a funeral...this way the three sisters got to spend time together, even if it was in the hospital. Somehow this all worked out just perfectly-- she was able to get a flight back there right away, and then got a completely unexpected refund from the IRS the very next day which turned out to cover the cost of the plane ticket entirely. To having these extremely painful symptoms diagnosed as terminal cancer, and then be able to spend quality time with your remaining family-- and then to die before you even have a chance to get used to the idea of dying. Jeez. It's mind-boggling. She was 65, and a heavy smoker. No children. A husband who has always been the pampered partner, never cooking or cleaning, or doing for himself.

 

   I had told mom about BossJ's sister and the 1-3 months left to live during our talk last night, and so this morning I emailed her the shocking news. She was astounded, as I was, and later in that email said "Er...maybe you better come sooner than you'd planned."  She said she wasn't feeling well at all, with a recurrence of the stomach pain. I've emailed her back, asking if she is serious, or if there is something else going on that she hasn't mentioned.

 

    Our call last night wasn't as bad as I was dreading. It was awkward a few times, but that's because I felt she was trying to put me in the middle of a situation I have no desire to be in the middle of. She's upset that my sister isn't going to be there for longer than 2 days. She said something to the effect of "After all these years, why would she only stay for 2 days?" and I said, "Well, you've mentioned how you're a bit nervous about this visit, so maybe she is too--it's been a long time. it's bound to be very emotional, and could be ...difficult...for lack of a better word; maybe she's not sure you want her there?"  I think at one point I even said that if *I* hadn't seen someone in many years no matter who it was, I wouldn't make it a long visit-- better to break the ice briefly at first, and then come back again if both agree. There was a long pause as she thought about that.  Then, "Do you think she *would* come back?"  I said, "If she knew you wanted her to, and how much it meant to you, of course she would."

 

   I'm not sure at all of this, but I couldn't figure out how to answer, or rather, not answer.    I will have to talk to my sister...(or maybe I should just shut my mouth, and let them figure it out!).  She, Mom, seemed very down, and I guess that was my defense, to help her see the bright side, to reassure her.

   She had lost another tooth, and is horrified at the way they are falling out. I'm not quite sure why this is happening: but she said something about the enamel, or lack of. There's nothing she can do to prevent it. She also lost a few more pounds. But on the positive side, at least as of last night, she hadn't had to take any pain meds for 3 days in a row. That's amazing.

   The new baby chicks are ready to be put into a bigger pen, but she can't get up there to the barn to do so by herself. (My heart aches for those little things, crammed in a small box.)  And she hasn't done the contacting of various agencies to arrange payment plans yet.  She said she would try to get to those this week. I think now I should have insisted on taking the papers with me and done it myself, but I didn't want to overstep. So hard to know what to do.

 

 

 

  S called J yesterday, Father's Day, to thank him for his involvement in her life. I could hear his side of the talk, and he was so touched...and he heard from all of his kids throughout the day, so that was nice.  I made crabcakes and couscous and sliced tomatoes for our dinner, and had made cookies earlier for dessert --*and* restrained myself from eating any! When we'd gone to pick up his prescriptions, in the sale case was a half-gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream-- and it was half-price. So that was a great bargain, and a nice surprise. Again, fortunately it's not something I love--so I wasn't tempted in the least. Fudge? chocolate? donuts? oh yes please.

 

 

  

 

 

Sunday, Father's Day

Happy Father's Day, to my dad. I'm so grateful for the dad I have, and every year I feel that more and more.   (I could get angry--if I wanted to-- at *how* the ways my dad related to me were twisted by...other members of the family. Very subtle comments, very subtle looks, and it took years to undo those influences and look for myself and make my own decisions about what I was seeing. I sort of feel, sometimes, that I lost a lot of years--but at the same time I know things happen the way they are supposed to, and that maybe I had to go through all this to really appreciate my current relationship with him--and with others, for that matter.)

  I woke fairly early this morning, and read for awhile. I got up around 7, took my shower, sat down to check my email, but the first page in my computer is CNN's headlines. And one headline leaped out and caught me, knocking me flat. I almost could not believe what I was reading: Clarence Clemons had died. This man has had such an influence on me. I can hardly believe it, even now. I can't do him justice in this entry and I am not going to even try. I was instantly overcome with such grief; I couldn't stop crying for a long, long time. I don't think I have cried this hard and this long since learning about Princess Diana.  I went right away to the site I get all my Springsteen info from, and read what had clearly been being worked on since his stroke last weekend...somehow *I* thought he'd pull out of it. I can't even write anymore about this.

   I had cried out with such shock that poor J thought I'd somehow been notified my mom had died, as he told me later.  I said to him, "Somehow I don't think I'm going to feel this grief-stricken, this shocked, this overwhelmingly sad, when I get the news about mom." I feel I've made my peace with her. Every day I review what I've said or thought about her, for signs that there is something I need to work on:  If there is, then I figure out how I can bring it up, or whether it even *is* something I need to do anything about. In other words, I clean up my side of the street. I can't do anything about her, or how she thinks, or what she thinks--- but I can make sure I'm okay with what I've done or said. That I've said what I mean, but haven't said it meanly.  I try not to have expectations that it will all be lovey-dovey, but I do want to think I've been respected, and respectful, even if (and maybe especially if) I disagree. And boy, do I disagree a lot with what she's said, or done, or the ways some things have happened.

  Anyway. Sunday: I'm not good on the phone, so I won't call my dad. But I know he knows how much I love him.

   And oh lord, today is the day I have to call mom. I dread this so much, but it's like a duty now. My sister has now planned her visit up there, and I think we will be going up there too, that same weekend. We all need that support from each other. Aside from the necessity of "visiting a dying mom", it will be wonderful to see her and her husband.

Saturday, home

My first weekend home in 2 weekends. Oh, technically I was home two Saturdays ago, but only until around 10am, before we left for Seattle.

We worked around outside yesterday, after I'd gotten home from work. I had to work a few hours Friday morning (because the doc was out Thursday at some golf tournament, forcing us to re-schedule one particular patient). So I went down at my usual hour, and then when we were done, instead of sticking around, I just left at about 10. I went hunting for  a new handbag, and found  a great dark leather one, squashy and a bit over-sized, but it'll be fine, especially for traveling. Home by 11:30; a friend had stopped by to see J (who was under the house working on the pump which operates the sprinkler system). I took a nap, even!

   Then we attacked the overgrowth around the back deck, and I helped J with the sprinkler system. That necessitated two trips up to BiMart for the correct plumbing pieces. It was quite warm yesterday, too-- perfect for working on a watering system. Everything now is working, and it's so nice to watch. (God, does this sound boring!!!)  The other exciting thing was discovering to our dismay that a wood rat had made its home practically above our heads-- so J looked for a bigger rat-trap, and set it. Still, I saw it twice more, scrabbling up and down the growing shed, probably moving or feeding its babies. Unfortunately that meant J had to get his gun and put that to work.  In the later afternoon, S stopped by, and then Z showed up, too. Both stayed for dinner, and we had a great evening talking together.

    This morning we went to the AlAnon meeting, and that helped So. Much. Seeing Jen, my friend who is also dealing with lung cancer, was great. She, as slender as she is, has lost even more weight. She looks like a skeleton. But her spirit shines, and she continues to inspire.
     Well, since it's not actually raining, I feel obligated to do *something* physical today. And since my laptop's battery is dying, it needs recharging; I can go for a walk while it's doing that, and then maybe work on the woodpile...

Thursday

Had my appt with the GI yesterday afternoon, to follow up after getting pretty normal results from the gastric emptying study. He rechecked those results, and found there was a slight elevation in the either the slowness or rapidity of the emptying scale, I don't remember which.  In any case, he said the variance was so slight that it didn't require any treatment, but that he would double check with the lab for the correct reading and reporting.  In the meantime, since no symptoms have changed, he wants me to try a probiotic. Gave me samples of some he had there which I am to try for 2 weeks, and report back. Hopefully these will help the symptoms.

J is also scheduled to see him for an endoscopy on July 8.  Small world.  On the way home we did the grocery shopping, and then to pick up my prescriptions. Yesterday I'd woken with a moderate headache, and during the day it continued. I felt bad enough that I didn't walk when I got home, and was so cold. We just had a nice fire in the stove and watched the news, and J cracked my neck for me--sometimes that helps. Didn't last night. Took a fiorecet finally around 8 and since that was the second one that day (normally the second one puts me right to sleep) I didn't take the med which helps me sleep. Sure enough I was awake at 2, read for a while, finally turned off the light again around 3:30. Hate those sleepless nights, but they are less and less frequent.

This morning it is mostly gone. I wonder sometimes if they are allergy related, but I doubt it.Probably emotional fallout from the visit...

I had kind of an eye-opener insight to my mom. I think she collects wounded people; I mean emotionally wounded, emotionally vulnerable. I think she always has. I think that's why I, and my sister and brother eventually had to distance ourselves, because she was subconsciously upset? "betrayed"? (another one of her favorite rallying cries) that we had gotten strong enough to *not* need her so much, and were ready to be our own captains of our own ships. She would then (again subconsciously) start with the jabs, the poking, the subtle undermining, to weaken us again so we'd need her again. I *say* "us", but maybe it was just me.

This all sounds so sick. I wonder if it's just me that thinks this? It would explain a lot.  I think that alot of her background set her up for this. To be re-played out, over and over again in various relationships.  My sister and I, and now my daughter, have always wondered why other people seem to love and admire  her so much-- and wonder why we don't have that same almost passionate connection to her that others seem to. I mean, of course we love her--she's our mom, or grandmother in my daughter's case. But there has been a lot of conflict in the blood relatives' relationships with her, and she ends up cutting herself off from a lot of them, just as we have distanced ourselves. It's something to think about. And I can look at this dispassionately, not letting it make me too crazy. It just is something to note about her, to observe and wonder.

Wednesday

There has been so much activity since I wrote last that I have not had a chance to write, and process everything.

     Sunday S and I were going to tackle the rest of the list items, but first we made sure mom was awake, stripped the bed and started the washer for all the sheets, drove over to the PO on the res and got her mail, and then drove to where we thought she'd said to go and buy the cigarettes. S remembered the woman behind the counter, and caught up with her a bit, before we brought up the subject of the money owed. Nellie knew nothing--and it turns out we'd gone to the wrong place, so she directed us to the "little blue trailer just before the bridge". We got there, and sure enough, this was the place. After searching for her tab, we paid approximately $110 on the bill, and then paid another $57 for one carton of cigarettes, all of this in cash. Good grief!! Almost $170, for freakin cigarettes; no wonder she complains of needing money. She is literally burning her money. At the rate she smokes, it's just sickening to think of all that waste. Arghhh.
    When we got back, there was a strange car in the driveway, and to make a very long story short, this was a young woman who was fleeing a domestic violence situation at home with her 3yo boy. She'd left her 8mo there with the abuser. I don't know why. S and I didn't get details til this was all over much later, but the girl was obviously in severe emotional distress, in tears, and frightened, the whole thing. I think she did know mom's health issues, but she had no where else to go. Her abuser's family members are on the police force, so she was scared to call them, her family was out of state, she has no job, her car is falling apart, and you name it--every classic abuse cliche was live and in person here. S and I were given the job of babysitting and distracting the little boy while mom listened to and tried to help with this crisis. The little boy could barely speak, but seemed happy enough to wander outside; we walked around and around the property, with the dog, up and down the road, looked at all the animals, etc. Fortunately the day's weather was gorgeous.
  After an hour or so I had a ferocious headache and went inside to lie down in the much cooler room S and I shared, while S took her turn entertaining the child--by this time we had learned his name at least.  After another hour or so, it was decided the girl needed to have her injury looked at, so mom asked S to drive her to the Urgent Care a half hour away. S did...unfortunately inadvertently leaving her sunglasses behind. When I discovered them as I was making a late lunch for mom and me, I thought, "Oh, no---S is going to be miserable when she gets back...that poor kid. After everything she is doing, she's going to have a hell of a headache."  I was pretty concerned for her. But there was no way to get ahold of her.
  After lunch, *my* headache was abating, so mom and I did some of the things on the chore list; I'd already hung all the sheets on the line outside, and couldn't do anything else til S got back, we did those other things. I won't go into details of that. It was frustrating to say the least. Exhausting.
    I was up at the burn pile managing that when I noticed S and the young woman driving up, returning.  She was wearing a sling, and it turned out it was fractured. She had been advised to call the police of course, and they'd taken photos at the UC. There was more drama over when and how she should return to the house, as she was frantic about the 8mo old. While mom and she were determining a plan of action and making phone calls, S and I turned her mattress and flipped it, and re-made it all, then re-hung the fabric curtain behind the bed. The tv entertained the child for awhile, and finally when he got too antsy, she left, asking if she could come back if it turned out the abuser hadn't left after all. Of course mom said yes...
   I started dinner, while mom tried to recover her energy. Then the phone calls started; apparently the young woman had called her step-mom in another state, and so the step-mom was calling, filled with worry and concern over her daughter, asking mom to step in and do blah blah blah. After the *3rd* call from this woman, mom was sitting there lying back in her chair, eyes closed, just wiped out. I was trying to keep an eye on S (who was dealing with her own health issues) and mom, when the phone rang yet again. I  said quite loudly, "Mom! do NOT answer that phone!" She sort of jumped, and (according to S later) shot me such a look of shock and disbelief, and then just relaxed.  I went off on a mini-tirade of my own--pointing out how she needs to take care of herself first, how some of these people will suck you dry if you let them, how they are quite willing to dump on you all their own issues and drag you in, and that was the vibe I was getting from the step-mom, and that it was time to back off and let them know she *could*not*deal*with*any*more*. Because of her own CANCER, for godsake.
   Well, I think that surprised her, to the point where she finally stopped arguing  talking. She concentrated on trying to eat. But she was quite tired, and emotionally drained. She ate a few bites of the potatoes, and a few bites of the crabcakes, and actually snapped at me when I urged her to eat more even if she didn't feel like it. She said, "So you think I'm *not* forcing myself to eat this? What do you *think* I'm doing!"
    Hooo-kay. Deep breaths all around. Re-focus; S brings me her empty plate, and takes off for the barn chores, as it is rapidly getting dark out. I decided to run a hot tub bath, since that was the one thing she wanted to have happen before we left; she didn't feel safe trying that on her own.  I puttered, cleaning up, putting away, washing dishes, feeding dog. Mom just sat, smoking, watching the tv for a bit, figuring out what meds to take. Planning the trip for tomorrow--she'd been hit with the necessity to see the rheumatologist to decide on whether to continue the methotrexate.
  When the tub was ready, she climbed in, very touched that I'd done that. I sat down inside, but couldn't stand the smoky air, and called that I was going to be right outside if she needed  me. Took my glass of wine and just listened to the silence. I could see S moving around up at the barn. I slowly started feeling better.
   When mom was ready to get out she couldn't figure it out; I had to go in and remind her to turn over on her hands and knees, before she was stood up to grab a towel. No modesty left on her part, and she commented on that too.
   It was pretty late at that time. I was about done, but we 3 went over the List, and were both congratulating ourselves on what *had* gotten done, and frustrated over what we hadn't accomplished. S then jumped right on the Kindle thing, and figured it all out, and then patiently explained it step by step to her; she was thrilled to have been able to set it up, and mom was thrilled to have it working, so easily. That was a major success.  I don't know what time it was when I finally had to go to bed, maybe around 10. S stayed up later, but I have no memory of that!

     In the morning I saw a note from her to wake her by 7:45 so she could make her sandwich.  I got that made for her, and cut up some fruit for her to take. I had my breakfast of strawberries and  toast, and checked my email.  S got up and did the same, took care of the barn chores, and we packed, and woke mom. There was a  message on the machine: her ride was ill, and couldn't take her to town. We discussed the options, and aside from us bringing her there and then her finding a way home, she finally decided she felt well enough to  try driving on her own. And at 9, we all took a few final photos, and loaded the car, and then we were backing down the driveway waving goodbye---when suddenly she was waving frantically for us to come back, come back! S whispered to me,"Rats! We almost got away!"  When we got back there, mom pointed to a pile of recyclables (I had set it out there yesterday, after she insisted  I take it to our *own* recycle center) and an old broken adding machine. Do not ask. I loaded it all into our trunk, goodbyes were repeated, hugs all around, and then we left, waving and wishing each other safe driving.

   We drove all day, talking about the weekend, reviewing, listening to music, cracking each other up over various events during the weekend and on the road. Arrived home around 5:30. Originally S was to stay for dinner, but eventually she left before that; J and I took a walk with the dog and caught up in person. He'd called me every morning and evening, but it was a bit awkward due to the no-privacy issue; in person we both had a lot to share.  We reviewed our finances (mom paid me back for the groceries)  and I had some cash left over which I put back in savings. J had lots to share about his weekend with his visiting daughter.
  
    Tuesday at work was non-stop what with catching up, patients, my boss having a sudden family emergency on her own necessitating her flying back East that night, paperwork, etc. Also, one of the items I'd listed on ebay sold, and I had to figure out the paypal thing and there were issues with that, and then J took on getting it wrapped and ready to be shipped, which it was. I'd listed it for $200, but between shipping and various fees we only earned about $160. Oh well...
   Today, I'm catching up here, and also have a lot of paperwork from yesterday's patients, and to prepare for tomorrow's. This afternoon I have my followup with my GI doc; oddly J had an initial appt with the same office/different doc for his own GI issues this morning.
   I think I have emptied my brain now.
   I did suggest to mom that I take over the bill-paying. The debit card she'd ordered for me as co-owner on her bank account wasn't where she thought it was, so once she finds that, there's no reason why I can't pay those and prevent those late charges from happening.  She was surprised at the suggestion, so I don't know if that was upsetting, or if she just needed time to think about it. It would seem to relieve her from a lot of worry and concern. Anyway, while it would be challenging to do so from home, it's certainly a real possibility; and would make life a lot less stressful for her. She has to call and make the initial arrangements with several places to make minimum payments on the huge amount she owes; but she was to take care of that either today or yesterday. Once again depending on her energy level.  Once that's done, it'd be no problem. Would take me maybe an hour each month. As opposed to her 3+ hours, and a very slow computer...

So Happy to be home.

Sunday, at Mom's

Early morning, 7:30.

Yesterday was long, but I'm pleased with what we accomplished. She had written out a list of stuff she wanted to consider getting done. The list consisted of : "Kindle--set up, clean Toyota inside, back stoop area is a mess! find gadget which fell off  secretary behind it, clean out front of VW, organize front room, set up area for baby chicks, fill hummingbird feeder, show me how to post to caringbridge, change two light bulbs in fixture over sink, need table for laptop at dining room, fix mouse hole in bedroom, turn mattress, wash sheets and air dry, re-hang curtain behind bed, clean out dryer hose, fix back screen door, plant flowers and seeds".  Plus of course there were various things we have done as we talked or moved around inside, as we thought of them.

What we *didn't* get done were the Kindle, VW, the baby chick area, the mouse hole;  scheduled for today is possibly the front room, and the mattress slash sheets slash air drying, plus to re-hang the curtain.  Also, S and I are asked to go to the Cigarette shop on the Reservation where she owes a bill, to pay it and pick up more cigarettes for her.  Do  I hate like hell buying cigarettes?  God yes.

She's also started another list, of Things to Do before Dying. (Gallows humor really works  here, although I think S is upset by that aspect. I tried to explain to her why this morbid humor helps. For instance, as we were paying some bills yesterday  the AARP bill gives options of 1 yr, 5 yr payment plans. Mom really resented having to pay for a full year,  and was grumbling about on her tight budget. So I said, "Yeah, too bad there's not  a monthly option." That cracked her up.)  This new list contains things like Sell VW. Paint house inside and out. Find and have appraised and sell various heirlooms and furniture, to fund the installation of a composting toilet.

In the late afternoon around 4, S and I took the dog and went for a walk in the fresh air. Mom had taken a compazine (or lorazepam, I can't remember which), and when we got back, she was napping. So we started on some of the above things, and talked, and puttered. Every hour or so I checked on her, tapping her shoulder gently to see if she was awake.  Each time she was out cold. I felt hot and sticky after doing all the outdoor work, and took a shower.  Finally I decided to just start dinner. We ended up eating a hamburger helper type thing which she had loved one time when S was here a few summers ago. We skipped the actual hamburger, so the meal was kind of soupy and thick, along with some Italian green beans. It was quite spicy, but we were hungry.Then we turned on the tv to find the news, but we'd missed it already. J called and we checked in with each other's day.

Around 8 I checked on her again, and this time shook her  bit more vigorously, and she woke up, very groggy. Thought she'd slept right through til 8am! When I pointed out that no, this was 8pm, Saturday, and what we'd done while she was out, she was just astonished she could have slept that long. Took  quite a while for her to come out of it, and even then I don't think she really did "come out of it".

  S took care of the barn chores, all by herself, and then the 3 of us talked and tried to plan for what to do today, and in the coming visit, and discussed goals for the next few months. Mom asked me to clarify what my sister's visit was for (as in, is it a big Final Goodbye visit with Confrontations, or is it a chance to talk and reconnect and heal), and so I tried to ease her anxiety and questions. (Of course it's not a Confrontive Visit. I think both are anxious about what will happen during this visit, but I know they love each other under all the hurt on both sides. I think both want to clear the air in a good way, not in some heavy drama-filled way. And any thing my sister can help with  re mom's final time here in this world is something she wants to do.) (I think also having her husband meet mom and see for himself who his wife has been scarred by, I mean brought up by,  will be crucial to their understanding of each other.)

   By around 10 we were all ready for sleep. Last I remember was giving up on the book I'm trying to read, and I turned over away from the bedside light, as S was still lying in her bed reading. During the night I wake up off and on, and around 5 the damn rooster starts crowing. I was awake for good around 6, but just lay there til 7.

Well! Another day. Here we go. One minute at a time, if needed.

Saturday, at Mom's

http://anon-recovery-archive.blogspot.com/2011/06/70-things-i-have-learned-about-what-to.html  (...do with a dying person is the rest of the name of that posting. )


I stumbled on that this morning as I was reading some recovery literature online. I'm so glad I found it. Even though mom isn't actively, physically dying at this moment, so much of that post was so helpful and reassuring. So much of  it applies.


Mom is --hard to believe-- worse than I've seen so far. Granted, that was only once before, a few weeks ago. But yesterday, my god, she looked like she was on death's door. She says it's because of the nausea and aftereffects of the last chemo treatment on Wednesday. Usually she's felt *good* after those treatments, at least for a few days. Then she goes slowly downhill for a few days until the next session. But theoretically this was her last session.

   The hair is mostly all gone, and the skin is sunken in under her eyes and cheekbones. No color to her face at all. Difficulty with keeping her eyes open, because of the extreme fatigue and nausea. Smoking like  a chimney still, and  drops the cigarette occasionally. Sigh. Says that is because of the loss of dexterity, due to the lack of methotrexate for the RA. Her ankles and feet are swollen and wobbly. The house is quite warm, stiflingly so. She is dressed in two long-sleeved tops and one of those is a sweatshirt. Sweats on the bottom half, with heavy socks and a pair of thick furry slippers. These do not disguise the extreme thinness; when you hug her you can feel the spine, the ribs, the hip bones, and she trembles as she stands. She has shrunken to my height, from 5'10 to 5'5". (edited: I've looked now at the photos S took, and she isn't really that short--if she is standing upright  she stretches to about 5'8".)

   Yet she managed later in the evening to walk (with the walking staff J sent up with me)  up to the barn with S, to feed the goats and check on the baby chicks. S did most of the work, while Mom directed, while sitting, resting. They were up there an hour or so. Meanwhile in the house, I made the beds  where S and I will sleep. S had previously removed all the boxes from one of the beds, and tried to stow them away efficiently so we'd have room. I cleaned two of the four cat boxes, and organized and cleaned off the top of two of the refrigerators, which were thick with dust. Tossed expired stuff. Had about 6 glasses of wine--sounds like a  lot, but these are tiny little wine glasses, probably a half cup in size. I didn't feel like I'd had anything to drink.

   I had upon our arrival gone to stow the groceries in the fridge, and discovered a lot of rotted food, so tossed that all. Just before we arrived here, she'd tried heating the heat wrap, but apparently it exploded or something, and so all that mess was sitting on the counter. She wanted me to look at it, and possibly repair. I did inspect it, and found it was unrepairable, so I tossed it all. She was upset with that, and asked me not to throw anything else away! Sheesh. I have to remember patience.

  There is a stack of mail and boxes, and so we opened the packages. Discovered the bath brush she (I) had ordered, along with a fir-scented candle I thought she'd like.  Discovered also a gorgeously printed blue-green paisley scarf, sent by my sister. Mom has 4 caps to choose from to disguise her head's bareness, but no scarves, so this will be a nice change. Directions also came with it, on how to do various wraps and twists. Discovered a couple of books some friends had sent. Left the rest til today; I'll be going through the mail and organizing this again.


 I don't know what else we will doing. It's always physically overwhelming, being here. I don't know if it's the climate, the dryness, the altitude, *something* always makes me feel completely drained of energy. I feel sleepy, and like not doing a damn thing. This place has always affected me this way. The constant smoke hanging in the air does not help at all--it's so difficult to breathe anyway that the smoke just magnifies that. Plus now the emotional overwhelmed feeling.

On the up side, it's now raining, and that accounts for the gorgeous green here--trees, shrubs, grasses. All of which I've always seen on previous visits as brown, dry, dusty. It's nice to see it all in the spring, and early summer. We saw a deer wandering through last night, and a raccoon. It's very peaceful.Very quiet except for birdsong, and occasional gunshots from a neighbor.

The rain is now slowing down, so hopefully at some point I can get out for a walk. I know the dog will appreciate it, and I know I need the activity. I think right now I will tackle the mail pile. S is awake and on her laptop in the other room, mom lies dozing in her bedroom. Occasionally I hear her congested coughing. It's after 9, and there's lots to do.

Wednesday

I think maybe I was supposed to call C, to schedule a walk, but I didn't remember that in time. I emailed her yesterday, and haven't heard back yet.

I have an oil change appt today (again) for the Honda. Seems like we are *always* doing oil changes for that car! But then, I do a lot of driving, and 3000 miles comes very quickly. I'll leave work at 1:30, and then go home after the work is done.

My hand is slowly healing, and while I can't open it all the way, I can type still. It still appears very puffy and swollen, but the pain isn't as bad--phew!

I'd emailed mom too, and am glad I thought to ask if she remembered our visit, because she hadn't. She does now sound glad we are arriving Friday, and says that she does have wireless capability! Holy cow, that will be amazing. So even if I can't call anyone, maybe I can email....and check fb, etc.

 I emailed my cousin, too, asking if there is a list somewhere of the various items Gramma had wanted other relatives to have. Finding out mom hadn't done that when Gramma died (11 years ago today, actually--miss you, Gramma!) was a  horrible shock. How do you justify refusing to distribute items your mom wants her loved ones to have?? I do not understand. So when the time is right, I will be making sure that does happen: better late than never. But I asked for that list because mom is talking about appraisers, and contracts, and things to sell now vs things to sell/give afterwards. I want to make sure those items meant for others *get* to their rightful destinations...and how to bring that up with mom? I have no clue. I'm concerned about bringing it up, but I can't avoid it. A lot will depend on how she is feeling, how much energy she has.

She asked us for several items which she wants us to pick up or bring, in addition to the various groceries S and I will pick up on the way. She asked me to ask J if he has a cane she can use, and so I checked with him. He has no cane, but those are easily picked up; but he does have walking staffs, which he made. Guess I'll bring one for her to try, and then she can decide if that works, or if she'd rather have an adjustable cane.

And she admitted in a phone call Monday night that the bit (I'd finally managed to post to cb, against my better judgement) really *didn't* make sense, after all. She apologized! Amazing. I can't get over the things she either does or does not remember.

   I think she didn't remember even that the lung cancer diagnosis was terminal. She talked a lot Monday night about whether to continue with the methotrexate for her RA, because she believes it is what has caused the cancer.  But if she doesn't take it, the swelling and pain in her feet and hands is pretty difficult to live with. I said "well, at this point, why worry about more or different side effects? why not just take it and be comfortable in the time you have left?" In the meandering discussion of this, the idea slowly came to me that she didn't remember she'd been told the cancer was terminal; she was talking as if apparently thought the chemo would cure it, and not just buy time which was relatively pain-free. When I finally gently said this (that basically since the cancer dx is terminal, what difference does it make to continue to worry about possible side effects), she slowly said, "Oh.  I said that? I knew it was terminal?  I didn't remember..."     She sounded odd-- puzzled? at her own misremembering? at the idea it really was terminal? I don't know. I hated the feeling that I was being a killjoy, to remind her she was ...dying...

  I feel as though I'm tiptoeing again, around certain subjects. I don't know what she knows, again, and what is something that she originally knew and has forgotten. It's hard to hear her dismay; then I can hear her actually writing this stuff down on her journal, as we are on the phone.  My sister wonders if the cancer has metasized to her brain. Sometimes I wonder too. But she's not doing "crazy" things, or bizarre things. She just is having severe memory issues. Similar to Alzheimer's, but not really. Maybe it *is* the chemo brain.

  Meanwhile J is having physical stuff going on: his doc wants him to see a neurologist for the ongoing, intermittent dizzy spells and headaches.  And he also wants to refer him to a GI, for *his* tummy upsets. This man almost never complains, so it's hard  to believe (and a bit surprising to me) that the doc considers this enough of a reason to refer out. Then again, I grew up with the belief that you don't go to doctors unless there is something seriously wrong.  I'm still learning about "taking care of oneself", as in, when it's appropriate to see a doctor. J seems absolutely fine with seeking other opinions, so again, that's different than what I'm used to. (In my previous marriage my ex would practically  have to be dragged to the doc, and was very reluctant to follow up.)

  J does not complain about things. He will calmly mention "I'm having those whirlies again", but then drops the subject.  If I ask about it later, sometimes he'll admit it's still there, or he'll brush it off. Occasionally he'll complain of a headache.  Or on our walks, as we did last night, he seems  occasionally to lose his balance, and so he'll reach out to grab my arm, or he'll be limping, and when I comment on it he just says "oh yes, it's aching a bit". So as someone who does the same thing (downplays physical pain) it's harder for me to pick up on when *he's* going through something. My reaction usually is to take a pill (either for the headache or bursitis pain) and wait for whatever it is to ease up. His reaction is to tough it out.
 
Well. Life is certainly interesting. J's daughter V will be visiting this weekend, and he is hoping to go sailing with her one of the days. The weather is supposed to be wonderful, so I hope he gets to do that. I know he deeply misses her.  Meanwhile my daughter will be here probably Thursday night, and sleep here, so we can get an early start Friday.  I'm trying not to anticipate what it'll be like, but just to be flexible in my reactions or thoughts.  If I bring a recovery book, that is the greatest help of all.

Monday afternoon

Somehow I have managed to sprain my hand, and/or my fingers. I cannot believe how awkward and uncomfortable this is!  I was weeding yesterday afternoon, after we got back from Seattle, and although I was wearing gloves as usual I must have pulled  a clump of something incorrectly. My right hand is swollen and stiff and painful. It feels really silly to think I've sprained my fingers.  My bosses (and a visiting monitor who is also a nurse) agreed that yes, that does happen, and she helped me wrap it up with some coban. It helps to have it firmly wrapped. I'm grateful I have no patients today. Blood drawing would be challenging.

   The U2 concert was wonderful! In a stadium capable of holding 76,000, the show's stage was in the center of the playing field, facing north. We who were seated on the southern half of the oval had a dramatic view of the downtown skyline and the Space Needle, all lit up as the night darkened.  Some seats were not used, but estimates I've read indicate over 65K were in attendance. Although we could barely make out the figures on the stage, there were giant video monitors doing well at keeping the activities and Bono in full view. If there was no Bono on the screen there was non-stop background videos related to the song, and always plenty of action. The "claw" structure was like looking at a UFO-- I've never seen anything that large in my life. I read somewhere that it takes 120 trucks to move this stage from venue to venue--I believe it.  There was so much excitement and power and passion and enthusiasm generated by U2's presence in this town that *everyone* as far as I could see was on their feet from the first moments. 
   There were only a couple of slower ballad-type songs where we did sit and listen, but for the most part everyone was dancing, clapping, jumping, swaying, waving, and singing along to 90% of the songs. It didn't feel very intimate; more like you were at an Important Event, and being part of something like this was incredibly thrilling.  I wish I could describe it better...
  S and I drove up, leaving my little town around 10:30, and arriving in Seattle around 4.We found our hotel with no problems; excellent driving along the way--my daughter drove us in her new-to-her Malibu. She turns out to be a fantastic driver; I had my moments of fear but only because someone in another lane was driving erratically, or switching lanes quickly and I was sure they were going to plow right into me...

    Arriving at the hotel, I think my daughter was disappointed in it, but I also think that's because she has never stayed in a city hotel before. I made the reservations at the cheapest and safest and closest place to the site that I could find, and so for $155 we got overnight parking, a queen bed, a smallish bathroom, a/c, free wi-fi, a flatscreen tv, and one armchair, with a closet and safe. Decent, but definitely not luxurious. It was clean, and although originally an older building, they renovated it as best they could. Frankly, I just wanted a place to stay overnight, and it was fine for that. S thought it should have been advertised as a motel, not a hotel.   We just showered and rested and ate our Subway sandwiches for dinner, and then we left the building and walked along with hundreds of others along the streets to Quest Field. We almost didn't need walking directions, there were so many others heading for the same place.

I got a plastic cup of beer which cost $9, and then we found our seats up in the nosebleeds. Seattle was enjoying a spectacular day--first day of sun, breeze, warmth, and good spirits. It was heaven sitting up there, people-watching. The excitement was tangible. Lenny Kravitz opened the show, and we've seen him before and enjoyed his stuff a lot. Great choice for an opening act. While the stage was being set up for U2 I ran out and used the restroom, stopping afterwards to get another beer. The server asked me for  my ID. I just looked at him. I said, "Are you *serious*?? Look at me! I'm 55, for god sake!" He shrugged, and kept looking at me.  I finally said, "No, of course I don't have my ID--this is ridiculous!"  He looked around, and lowered his voice, and said "I'm sorry, but I have to ask...", and then he furtively filled my cup and took my money, looking around nervously.  I don't know what was going on, but I couldn't even be flattered. It was just silly.  Back at my seat, even S was amazed when I told her the hangup.

   When the band came out onstage there was a tremendous roar and everyone rose to their feet whistling and screaming and, and off we went. It was exciting and moving and powerful. What a great show. At the end I expected a madhouse, with all the thousands of people leaving, but it was all very well orchestrated, lots of laughter, everyone was in a great mood-- I was very impressed with how well it all went. The show had been 2 hours, and so it was almost midnight by the time we walked back to our hotel. We were both revved up and wired and exhausted from emotion. Plus, S technically is still recovering from mono. But we finally both slept, and woke around 8. We were packed and on the  road shortly after 9, stopping at Starbucks (where else?) along the way.
  
  As far as calories go, this past weekend was a complete bust. I'm just not even going to do a tally... but since it's Monday, I'm back on track again.  It was wonderful to be home: Murphy had been given a bath, and was freshly Frontlined. Kitties were happy to see me, as were the  chickens (J had forgotten to shut their coop door the night before, because he was so tired). We both worked outside a bit, and then just rested on the deck listening to the water rushing by, and the wind in the trees. So peaceful.
  

Saturday, U2

This is going to be a great day, once I'm finally waked up. I'm still feeling groggy. It was a perfect day as far as the weather goes yesterday, and today and tomorrow will be the same if not warmer. Sunny, windy, no clouds, low 70s.

S and I are leaving in a couple of hours to head up to Seattle--the concert is tonight!  It's been many months since she bought the tickets and I reserved the room--hard to believe the time is finally here.  I hope it's a good memory for her, when she looks back.

I have a memory of Mom and I doing the same thing when I was roughly S's age. Back in the early 80s, the unforgettable Yul Brynner was touring in The King and I, and for my birthday that year Mom bought tickets for us.  We drove up in the camper, but I didn't want to camp---so I paid for the hotel room! I have very few memories of the actual trip, but I sure remember his performance. We had good seats, fairly close and to the center, if I remember right. (Maybe we were in the first balcony to the left?  I can't remember!) It was so thrilling to actually see the show live, and with the originator of the  role on Broadway.  Both of us were in tears at many points, unbelieving that we were actually seeing the man himself, doing his iconic portrayal.The voice, the swagger, the expressions-- unforgettable. 

  Later we waited at the stage door along with maybe 25 other people, and waited and  waited. Finally one of his staff came out and collected our names and addresses on a piece of paper, saying *He* was too tired to stand and sign, but that we'd get the autographs in the mail. And shortly after that he did come outside, surrounded by his people, wearing that black cowboy hat. He smiled, and waved, then got into a big black car, and was gone. Many years later  I learned he was fighting lung cancer during this period. Where on earth did he get the strength, the stamina? What a man.  The autographs, however, never arrived.
   Mom has sent me a copied and pasted conversation she had with someone on FB, asking me to put it on caringbridge. I replied that it really didn't make sense to me, and was she sure? This morning there was a note from her saying "really? of course it makes sense--read it again!"  Arghh.  No, it really does *not* make sense. But if you want it up there, I'll figure it out. Not today-- unless I get really bored in the hotel room.

   I mowed the lawn yesterday. Me. I was able to stop the machine when the bag was full, empty the bag, and then restart the mower, twice.  I've never been able to restart it (or any one of those machines where you have to pull some kind of cord). I was so proud of myself. It made me feel pretty capable!  And the lawn looks wonderful. 

 Also yesterday after getting groceries, we stopped at Habitat. There I found 3 good-sized clay pots and saucers, so I was able to re-pot some indoor plants that have been crying out to be moved to a larger pot.

 Well, it's 8:30...I need to walk before I go. If I have time later,I'll post more...there was a bit of family drama yesterday afternoon, involving J's son, his gf, and her oldest son's graduation today from high school. I'll get into that later....

Wednesday

   Been working most of the day, without realizing it was going to be such a busy day. No patients, but lots of paperwork, and reviewing with a monitor. My daughter came to "interview" me for a class she is taking and that felt odd: having a microphone clipped on, and having her ask me questions, and then I answered. It was only a couple of minutes, and then I chose to see what it looked like. I knew I wouldn't like it-- I didn't want to be made aware of the various quirks or expressions I make! I hate being self-conscious.

   I dropped J off (at the parking lot yesterday morning where we'd left the Lincoln last Friday), and he was going to wait there for tripleA to come and tow it yet again. He got in, and turned the key--and the thing fired right up.  Odd. So now he's home with it, and able to do errands again. No clue as to what was wrong. He has joined an online forum of other Lincoln owners, and is getting helpful suggestions and advice. That's turned out to be quite a resource.

  It was nice having a paid holiday. My paycheck was for 10 days this pay period, and that really makes a big difference in what we are able to accomplish each bill-paying period. And J was able to repair our old mailbox himself, so we are not buying a new one--that saves us approximately $30. He is such a capable person, and I really admire that. Yesterday our neighbor H, who is a contractor, paid J $15 for each of the three hours it took for him to drive down to the town I work in, and pick up some specialized paint products, and drive back. That is $45 which will go towards either savings or the creditcards.  That was nice!

   I got the results of the gastric emptying study-- totally normal. That is a mixed blessing: I am glad there is nothing "wrong" but I wish there was an official reason for what is going on. I'm tempted to stop taking the carafate to see what happens.

   Mom is almost at the end of the chemo sessions. She'll have one more next week, and then a  few days later my daughter and I will drive up for the weekend. I hope she is not too exhausted; she decided to go ahead and plan for the near future by getting the baby chicks after all. I hope that is a good sign for her-- I think I would be thinking in terms of simplifying my life instead of adding more to it-- but she is either in a very independent and determined to be positive mood, or she is in denial. Only time will tell-- it's hard to know. I alternate between admiring that denial/upbeat mood, and being frustrated by it.  I want to support her, and sometimes she makes it difficult! Well, I have no control over other people, and I know I'd be insane if I did...so I can let that go.

It's almost 3pm, and I will be leaving shortly: to Walmart, then Target which fortunately is right across from Walmart, my bank, and then home. It's pouring rain here, and I'm in no mood to walk-- sometimes my little town's weather is quite different than the weather where I work.