Bitter Sweet

Welcome to the Jefferson Medical Chemo Room. There is my mom receiving her very last chemo treatment, for a while. Can you believe she can put that pretty smile on? She has grown accustomed to coming into this room and sitting with fellow sick friends that have placed their faith for recovery in the hands of modern science, new research and of course, God. If you ever get a chance, go over there and see the chemo room. Take some crackers or drinks to donate. It's a room filled with scared yet smiling faces. You will leave with a brand new outlook.

This is mine and the girls' bench. We wait here often for Gammy to come out, so that we can surprise her! I would imagine that 3-4 hours sitting with an IV in your arm is pretty depressing and boring. So me and the girls like to brighten her day by coming to hang out with her!

So now, once again, comes the unknown. Whole brain radiation. It sounds scary and painful. They assure us that it isn't. They say she may be fatigued and she WILL lose her hair. We women, we are vain. We depend on our hair to make us feel feminine. It is scary to think of losing it, and possibly never getting it back. But my mama? She isn't scared. God had been so gracious to ease her into it. It didn't all fall out the first week like they said it would. She has seen more and more on her pillow over the last couple months, but she has had time to come to terms with it. She is absolutely beautiful, and she doesn't need her hair to show that.

Mom finds the end of chemo bittersweet. She admits that she doesn't feel well. This last cycle has affected her appetite and she is having to MAKE herself eat. But, the point is, she IS making herself. She is working so hard. Imagine that yucky feeling you get when a stomach virus is coming on. Now stretch it out over several days--or LONGER! Could you make yourself eat? It's a hard concept to grasp, what she's going through, but I am trying to be encouraging yet understanding. She feels kind of down, but is fearful of stopping chemo. She doesn't fully understand why she can't keep fighting. This drive in her makes me equally proud and sad. Next week mom gets scanned again. It is my prayer that we will be delivered the news of a miracle. But I try to keep myself grounded. I will be elated if the cancer is smaller. I will be satisfied if it has not grown. While she is scared of the changes and news that we will be given very soon, mom is optimistic about the outcome. Please keep her in your prayers.