Beast or Burden

Chemo session #2 started Monday. I believe we were all scared because the last chemo week left her in the hospital. If I am unable to get a sitter, I cant go and sit with her through the entire treatment. Because children are so "germy", they are typically not allowed in facilities that treat cancer patients, due to their lowered immunity. Since my brothers work, I have made it my personal duty to deliver her and pick her up from every treatment or appointment she has. She prefers me to drop her off, then pick her up and not to sit with her through the whole thing. She says she doesn't want to "burden me".

 It's funny....Your whole life, you hear the word "chemo" and you never really know what it is. Mom was so scared her very first day of chemo, she cried the whole way there. Fear of the unknown is the worst. "will it hurt?", "will I be sick?", "will I lose my hair?" The poor Dr. was bombarded with questions that day.

This is basically how it goes: Mom goes in and they do bloodwork. If her levels are good, they hook her up to an IV (now they use her port instead of sticking her) and she first receives a bag of a steroid and nausea medicince, followed by bag(s) of chemo. About 4 hrs (give or take). Then we leave.

 There is a whole room dedicated to chemo. When you walk in, the perimeter of the room is lined with recliners. There are magazines, television, and snacks and drinks. Though this room would be cool if it were in your house and titled "media room", it is the total opposite in the clinic. When I walk in I am drawn to look at the faces of the patients being treated. All of them pale. All of them appearing hardened by living the hand they were dealt. I wonder if they ever think "why me?" I'm not a patient and I think it all the time. Monday, I walked down the aisle of patient bearing recliners, until I saw a familiar face. She looked up and gave me a weak smile. Those of you that are close to your mom, you know what her smile can do. It can say "it's alright". It can say "I'm sorry" or "I love you". It can send tons of hidden messages that only you can decode. But looking at this smile, all I could feel was my heart breaking. It is a nightmare to walk in this room and see your mother. I just kept thinking "how did we get here?" I sat there with her until the bag ran out and the nurse unhooked her. After a treatment, she is usually so exhausted that I have to take her straight home. So that's exactly what I did.

Once home, my mom spoke of something else that she didn't want to "burden" us with. She informed me that she was going in the near future to pre-pay for her funeral. "Lots of people have burial policies, this is no different" she assured me. I found it hard to respond. Initially, I barked out "MOM!!", completely ready to steer the conversation to the weather or Arnold Schwartzenegger or anything. But I knew she NEEDED to talk to me about this, so I allowed her to speak her mind regarding location of cemeteries, etc. I told her I supported her 100% in whatever decision she made. My mind is like a bully. It keeps letting me forget the situation, then it reminds me with a vengeance. My mind also allows me to think that this will be over soon. I catch myself thinking, "I cant wait until this is over". Then, reality sets in. This is life now.

  One of the definitions of "burden" is -"something that must be carried". Well I intend to carry my mom emotionally and even physically as long as she needs me to. The truth is, mom could never "burden" me. I guess sometimes the course that life takes requires us to switch roles. The "caregivers" become the "cared for". When I look back at my life and how she was always there for me, I would do nothing less for her.