Wednesday night we found ourselves at my dad's house. My sister in law, Amber cooked a huge spread and we gathered with our dad for the first Thanksgiving since he and my mom divorced (approximately 15 years ago). There are holidays that bring us together, for whatever reason, Thanksgiving was never one of them. This year, my little brother came up with a great plan to pull his family together, without upsetting standing traditions---celebrate the night before. It was very nice to see the kids play with their Pop. It was great to see my brothers smiling and talking. Everyone had a great time, and the food was delicious. I was very proud of Josh and Amber for organizing the whole thing.
Coming home from the mountains, going straight to my dad's, and not arriving home until 10pm, didn't allow alot of time for the baking and cooking I usually do for the holiday. For the first time in my adult life, I made one thing---a ham. I felt guilty not helping out more, but I have to admit, the day was much more enjoyable minus the panic of cooking and the anxiety of "will they like it? I HOPE they like it!"...
First we went to Michael's aunt's house. We always go there, but never spend enough time, in my opinion. Unfortunately, we have two events that are scheduled at the same time. We try to divide our time as best we can. After a quick bite, the kids playing with their cousins, and a little visiting with loved ones, we headed out to Taylorsville.
This would be my first Thanksgiving without my Papaw. The gathering was at his old house that my uncle now owns. I walked into the room where he always sat. I did this a couple times. I hoped to see him sitting in his chair. I hoped to hug him and talk to him like old times. But all that greeted me was an empty room.
The weekend proved to be pretty horrible for my mom. Her condition has deteriorated greatly. She is in a tremendous amount of pain (right side, right arm, upper back). We felt confident that the knot protruding from the side of her ribcage was the source of her pain. We also felt confident that knot was cancer. Sunday was probably the worst day yet. She could not find a comfortable position. The girls and I attended church alone, then spent most of the remainder of the day at her house. She slept when she wasn't up crying in pain. At one point, Neva asked "Gammy, why do you have tears?" "I don't know baby. I don't know" she responded with more tears welling up. It has to be the worst feeling to watch a loved one in pain, and be completely unable to help them. I rubbed her back and arm to try and help her find some relief. I fought tears as my hands bumped across bone after bone. She used to be so plump and healthy. Now it seems all that is hiding her skeleton is skin. The lump in my throat would not fade. Her physical pain brought me tremendous emotional anguish. Unable to successfully sit up for too long, she returned to bed. I cooked her some soup, and headed home not long before the girl's bedtime. I cried silently the whole way home. When I arrived home and the girls were safe and happy with their daddy, I snuck away to the bedroom. I sobbed uncontrollably into my pillow. Though I knew I was alone, I kept saying "I can't. I can't. I can't." I am not sure why I repeated those words. They just slipped from my heart without permission. I felt my heart breaking into a million pieces. I remember saying (very similar to a child) " I want my mama. I want my mama." a couple times too. It is almost as though my heart was doing the talking. I don't remember thinking these things, before I said them. I don't believe I have ever cried that hard in my life. When the sobbing calmed down, I prayed that God would help me understand. Why do I have to watch my mama hurt? Why am I watching her dwindle away? Why must such a wonderful person suffer so horribly? I even found myself selfishly thinking of all the horrible people in the world, committing unthinkable acts, and living healthy lives..Why my mom? I know that's a horrible thought. But for the sake of being honest, it isn't the first time I have thought it through this ordeal.
Monday's appointment with Dr. Penland revealed what we pretty much already knew. They think the cancer is growing. They feel confident, without scan results, that the growth on under her skin on her ride side is tumor. This can only mean one thing.......the chemo is not working. Then the doctor dropped a bomb. Apparently, if chemo #1 stops working, then chemo # 2 doesn't work, chances are none will. Mom has a stubborn type of small cell that grows regardless of medicine. I cried through the appointment. Mom was strong. She doesn't even react anymore. She just listens, and says "I'm going to be fine". Dr. Penland looked at me and said "You guys have to prepare yourselves, small cell is tough". I am as prepared as I can be, I think. Yes I cry. I cry alot. Alot, alot. Mostly when I am alone, or when I am forced to talk about it. But I hold it together for mom. I hold it together for my kids. I always will. But am I "prepared" to watch my mom die? No. Not even close. Dr. Penland has been very upfront with us from the beginning. I respect all that she says. I even understand why she told us to try and prepare ourselves. However, I think it is an impossible task.
Monday night we temporarily put the sadness behind us, (just as my mom taught me) and honored Ronnie with a surprise congrats party for his team, the Laurel Tornadoes, winning South State and now heading to Jackson for the State Championship. We are so very proud of his accomplishments as a coach. I cooked one of his favorite meals, lasagna, and Amber made football shaped cookies. The kids made signs that we hung all around the house. He was excited when he walked in and was greeted with a great, big "SURPRISE!!!" The only thing, I think, that could have made it better is if mom had been in the room with us. She was in bed. She came out a couple times and even tasted my lasagna! But most of her time was spent resting. If she was well, it would have been her lasagna waiting on Ronnie. I hoped she might be proud of me, for continuing on with a dinner we would have definitely had in our pre-cancer life.
Today was mom's CT scan. When the dye was sent through her body, she became ill and vomited on herself. When she exited the scan area, me, Neva and Nori were in the waiting room. I could tell she was on the verge of tears. I just hugged her tight and went to get the car. She was pitiful. Alot rides on the results of this scan. We should receive the news tomorrow. However, regardless of the results, mom will have to have radiation again. Like I said, they feel confident that the visible growth is cancer. If the cancer is the source of her pain, ( and they feel it is) they must radiate it to improve mom's quality of life. We meet with Dr. Pimperl (the radiation dr.) tomorrow. Mom originally said she could not handle anymore radiation. It was HORRIBLE last time. But, they assure us that the side effects won't be bad this time. I guess we will see.
A reoccurring thought in my mind is "will mom be here for Mili's birth?". I have, reluctantly, accepted that my mom could miss alot of events in the distant future. However, it wasn't until recently that I started worrying about the near future. Tomorrow I will find out, not IF, but HOW MUCH, mom's cancer has grown, to what all areas it has spread, and what the next move will be. I keep reminding myself who I am worried about.....MAMA, the toughest person I know. She is a fighter like no other. But her opponent is relentless. I am absolutely terrified.
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