What an interesting and stressful few weeks it has been. Mercy. We have two chemo treatments done and four more left to go. Radiation has been started – finally. She has thus far had relatively few side effects. She seems to semi-lose her voice for the first day or two after chemo but then it comes back and no other real problems to speak of at this point. We will have to monitor her fluid intake because her blood pressure does tend to drop without enough fluids after chemo.

She is more of a harm to herself than chemo or radiation could ever be. Last Saturday (before Mother’s day), she managed to catch her face on fire. Yes, you read that correctly. That’s what happens when you have an open flame near oxygen. Yes folks it does happen and that’s why they tell you not to do it. Scorched her nose pretty good. It was all swollen. She looked a lot like Bozo the Clown. However, it is healing nicely. Monday (the day after Mother’s day), I was talking to her on the phone and heard a noise and I just knew what had happened. She thought I hung up because she pushed too many buttons on the phone so she hung up and called me back. And sure enough, I was right. She had fallen. Her blood pressure dropped (not enough fluid intake) and she face planted in the kitchen. Goose egg on the eye brow, torn up hand, and torn up elbow. Somehow she managed to avoid hitting the scorched clown nose. Fast forward to Tuesday (yes the very next day), and we are leaving her house headed to chemo. She rolls her window halfway down to throw her gum out. She then commences to flinging her hand at about a hundred miles an hour into the glass and of course the gum flies back into my car. At this point I am in hysterical laughter. I had to stop the car. I told her, “Okay, you’ve torched your face, you’ve faced planted, and now you’ve tried to break your hand. That’s three things in one week. We are DONE!!!!”

The cancer will never kill her – she may however kill herself. And crabby… oh sweet heavens is she crabby. It finally occurred to me why. She can’t take Benadryl so they have to pre-medicate her with steroids. We are talking a HUGE dose of steroids complete with two smaller doses of steroids. My mom has taken steroids all her life. Have I mentioned she’s the devil incarnate on steroids? Well… she is. Again, the cancer won’t get her but I may choke her to death before chemo is over. J

Crabbiness and all, to God be the glory. Her side effects are minimal if any, her counts did not drop in the slightest after the first treatment, she is maintaining her weight, and the doctor is thrilled. Speaking of the doctor, she is in LOVE with the doctor. Okay, maybe not love but definitely lust. Never a dull moment with this one.

So much is going on. Not only with her but with the daughter / granddaughter situation. My stress level is high. But I know my God has a plan for every single stressful moment I encounter and I continue to depend on Him to get me through it all. We will come out victorious on the other side.

Well, mom's port is in place and healing nicely. Her whining is at a minimum. :) Seriously, if I had two surgeries in that short of a time span I would whine. She says she's not anxious about chemo starting Tuesday but all of her questions indicate otherwise. I would probably be anxious too.

My mom is a tiny woman. Short and thin. So short in fact that she fits under my arm. At my height and weight, I make that woman look like a dwarf. She's older. 71 years old to be exact. Sometimes I forget how small she is. Sometimes I forget how old she is. Tuesday on that hospital gurney after port placement, the stark reality of both was right there in my face. I just looked at her all hopped up on anesthesia, curled up in a little ball and well she just looked awfully fragile. I want to protect her from all of this. I need to protect her from all of this.

But... I can't go there. I can't let her see that. She feeds off of those closest to her. If we're positive, she's positive. If we're negative, she's negative. So, I'm as compassionate as I can be without giving her any indication that I see frailty or weakness. That would simply never do. I will be the one who has to push her. If / when she reaches the "I can't do this" stage, I will remind her that yes indeed she can.

I pray that these treatments are easy. I pray there is no sickness and limited weakness. But I really wish I could just do it all for her because I'm at a place of being physically stronger and frankly it just sucks that she has to go through this.

However, this cancer is treatable. She can get well. How many other people heard different news the day we heard Stage II. How many other people heard, there's nothing more we can do. How many other people went to their final resting place that day? So... we will be content with where we are. And we will be thankful in all circumstances. And we will thank God for picking us up and carrying us down this road we must now travel. And we will thank Him for His strength in these circumstances.