Doctor's report on Mom's cancer

Roy and I went to visit mom again at M.D. Anderson.  Aaron, Candice, Wolfie, and Drew went along with us.  We leave early (about 5:30 a.m.) so we can be there early enough to see the doctor.  Around the corner from the hospital, we stop at a grocery store for flowers and are greeted in the entrance by shelves of orchids.  Around the bottom of the flower are several other types of greenery. I like them because they are planted and less likely to decay too fast.  Drew and Candice pick out their favorite.

Roy is in a wheelchair he is still in a lot of pain from his knee surgery.  We stroll/roll into the room and present her with the flower.  She loves it and I place it in the window and add a bit of water.  Mom is a tad groggy and has just finished her morning Boost drink.  This is all that she can stomach right now. She drinks about two a day, but on a good day, three.  She asks me to make her one of her mixed drinks (a 50/50 concoction of citrus green tea and apple juice) which we have all come to refer to as “her cocktails”.

We all sit and visit for about an hour and then the nurse comes in to clean her up so I send everyone to the “Observation Floor” which is the very top floor where people can lounge and look out across the town from all sides of the building.  I sit with mom.

After a while, I try to bring up the papers she needs to sign. She had asked me to bring the Franchise Tax papers so she could sign and I could send for filing, also forms from the broker regarding her shares getting transferred to another brokerage firm, and the title to her truck because she wants Aaron to have it.  I show them to her so she can review to see if they are filled out correctly but she is in some pain and doesn’t want to deal with the Franchise Tax. She semi-signs the papers from the broker, and she decides that she would rather gift the title to Aaron because it’s cheaper for him.  I put the papers up not wanting to deal with it anymore.

A “white coat” comes in.  She’s cute with pixie-cut red hair and extra piercings in her ears. She hands some paperwork to me with information about mom’s diagnosis and procedures.  Some of it is Greek to me, and other parts are more obvious – overall, it doesn’t help clear up anything really.  She goes on to say that they biopsied two “balls” medically referred to as “punches” and both came back as benign and unidentifiable. These punches were then sent to a skin specialist who also could not identify them.  “So they’re anomalies then?” I ask humorously.  “Yes” she replies with a giggle.  (Leave it to mom to render everyone clueless.)

She explains that during the surgery on the fistula the doctor found another very small cancer.  He was very surprised by this and she couldn’t say whether it was a recurrence, or whether it was left behind from the surgery to remove the cancer last February.  She says it could have been so small that it was missed, but that would be very, very unlikely.

She goes on to explain “there is no time line, that’s up to your mom…” (I don’t know if she’s referring to mom’s state of mind and the importance of a positive or negative attitude or if she’s referring to mom deciding whether or not she wants to have more surgery.)  “We could remove it but we might be chasing our tails and, your mom’s really tired.”  She doesn’t know if cancer is traveling through mom’s system or not but confirms, “oh yes, she still has cancer.” 

I’m taken aback some by the differences in what I am told today by the doctor and what mom had initially said.  First, the doctor did know whether the cancer was traveling through her body.  Second, there was no timeline given to mom.  I worry that mom, being a bit delirious, reported a more dramatic prognosis for herself.  Did she jump to conclusions. Have we been misled and have I inadvertently misled my children? I try to rationalize. 

Look, this cancer first reared its head a year ago. Made a reappearance in December (less than a year later) and grew quickly and invasively in a matter of a couple of months.  They took it out again clearing a wide margin to ensure that they had everything, and already in only a month, we are seeing it again.  Realistically, this thing is in her body and it is terminal. So, despite the differences in reports, it is all still very serious.  And I knew this.  It’s been in my head that the longer she stays in that hospital, and the continued complications, she is still in very critical condition.  But, if Brenda and Erica hear this report as I heard it, knowing my sisters, I can already guess their reaction.  Brenda will hit the roof, and Erica, since she is buddying up with Brenda, will likely follow her lead.

I text the family to come back down to visit with mom more.  We get in about another hour and then mom needs her urostomy cleaned up.  Knowing the stench from this, I quickly shuffle the family back out of the room.  I stay. 

Brenda, Erica, and Kaitlyn arrive about 2:30 or 3:00.  Erica has the folder with funeral arrangements; however, there are no specific instructions, just a few poems, bible verses, and song suggestions that mom likes.  Erica asks mom about who she would like to officiate over the funeral ceremony and there is some discussion before she opts for Brenda’s suggestion, a preacher who is evidently somewhat familiar with mom somehow.  Erica asks mom which funeral home she would prefer and mom opts for the same place used for dad’s funeral.  Mom waves Kaitlyn over to her and hugs her.  They break down in sobs and mom apologizes for the dire prognosis and reminds Kaitlyn of how much she loves her.  Brenda and Erica cry and I’m fighting the tears back.  Erica presents a card to mom made special by her daughter, Rachael. Again, everyone is crying and I’m, again, fighting back tears. 

It’s about 3:15 and I know my family is long past hungry so I text them to come down and say goodbye.

They enter and make their way around the room, hugging mom goodbye, and Brenda stops each one to pass out hugs.  Brenda is either well over our drama from the hotel stay or putting on a really good front.  Either way, it’s a relief. Erica is still not speaking to me. When I say anything, she refuses to even look in my direction. Her head is cocked as if to intentionally snub me. I’m trying to take the high road and treat her as if we can have an argument but we can get over it like adults, but times like these frustrate me all over again and I really do want to yell at her. I’ve sent her text messages here and there about mom, and reminding her that I loved her (with no reply).  I’ve had talks with her on the phone a couple times at most, but something in her voice told me she was still angry and only speaking with me because she felt she had to.  Brenda’s impressed with how much Wolfie has grown – he’s taller than me and giving Aaron some competition finally.  As I leave, I hug Brenda, Kaitlyn, and then grab Erica by the wrist forcing her up and into a hug. I squeeze her tightly only to find out later that she’d made a face behind my back (I can imagine her quite clearing doing her rolling of the eyes thing).

Telling Jr and Corey: Mema's cancer is terminal

I get home from work. Jr. is in the kitchen talking to his dad. I had asked Roy to break the news to Jr. and Corey because I’m exhausted with it and it’s his turn now. They wrap up their conversation and Roy is leaving the kitchen and I ask him quickly if he’d told Jr. yet.

“No.”

Guess I’ll do it. 

Jr. reacts with surprise.  He too didn’t see it coming but then, I haven’t kept him up to date on her status much either.  He is silent and I can see that he is trying to process the information.

I quickly get on the phone to text Corey the information as well.

It reads:  “You know Mema is at M.D. Anderson, right. And she had her cancer removed. It came back… which means it’s in her organs and traveling thru her system. This means it’s terminal. I wanted you to know right away rather than wait until you came down again. The doctor gave her 3 months to a year. We are going to see her again this weekend but she is trying to get moved to Warm Springs here in Victoria. Hopefully that will happen quickly.”

He responds much like the other boys:  “Wow that’s horrible. I’m speechless. Yeah hopefully they can have that transfer soon…”

And so it’s done. My family knows and now we wait.

Roy's knee surgery | Telling Wolfie and Drew: Mema isn't getting better

I’m off of work today.  Roy has his knee surgery.  We rise early and head over to the surgery center only to find out that we have arrived two hours early.  The surgery is scheduled for 12:00 and we are to be there an hour early – 11:00a.  It is 10:00a.  C’est la vie.  We wait.  Finally, he is taken back to be prepped and shortly thereafter I meet up with him to sit until surgery time.  The doctor runs late, doesn’t call, and doesn’t arrive until 2:00ish.  We are perturbed by this lack of professionalism or care.  Roy hasn’t slept yet and they give him something to relax him.  I think this knocks him out. 

An hour later surgery is complete.  Roy is the cutest thing as he fights off the anesthesia.  The nurse is asking if he’d like a soda or water, and he responds trying to communicate as if the drugs have no effect on him.  She looks at me and smiles with amusement too.  Slowly he can feel the anesthetic wear off and his hunger kicks in.  He recalls the lights in the surgery room and the voice of certain nurses but not much else.  The doctor comes in and explains that he took care of a tear in the back of the knee but also a flap in the front that he hadn’t initially expected.  Roy has three small incisions with a stitch to hold each closed.  We are told that Roy can expect to walk around like normal by tomorrow and that he should return in a week to have the stitches removed.  We get instructions on after-surgery care, prescriptions, and are on our way.

Eat at Las Palmas.  Steak is good!  Grab Roy’s medicine and put him to bed.  He sleeps.

This evening after work I sit with Roy and ask him about whether or not we should tell Wolfie and Drew. I wish we could get away with not telling them but suspect that it will come out in conversation eventually and I would like to break the news gently.  I talk to him first about my wording and then go to find the kids.

They are in the living room, Wolfie on his laptop and Drew watching her Disney channel. 

“I need to talk to ya’ll about Mema so I need ya’lls attention okay.”

Wolfie immediately closes his laptop and Drew shuts of the tv.  Already nervous, Drew grabs a pillow to hug and asks if it’s good or bad news.

“It’s bad news baby.”  She moans.

“Well” glancing back and forth between the two of them, “You know that she went up to the hospital to have her cancer removed, right.”

“Yeah.”

“Well the cancer came back. So, that means that she’s not going to get better now. She going to get sicker and sicker, okay.”

Drew is squirming and I ask if she’s okay.  “No” she replies and climbs onto my lap.

“Eventually Mema is going to pass away and do you know where she goes when she passes away?”

“Heaven” Drew cries.

“Yes.”

I hug and rock her and reassure them that she still has some time. I let them know that Aaron, Candice, dad and I are going to visit Mema this weekend and Drew insists that she is going too.  Not what I had planned but I can’t deny her.

Telling Aaron: Mema's cancer is terminal

Aaron arrives home this evening.  He is dirty and tired from work.  I feel more of an urgency to tell him about Mema now.  Word is spreading quickly throughout the family and Brenda has already told her kids as well.  I cannot let Aaron hear the news from a Facebook post.  He’s about to jump in the shower and I ask him to come into his room with me.  He follows but moans, “Can it wait?”

“Sure” I reply.

“Is it about Candice?” he tries to clarify.

“No.”

“Is it about Mema?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright.” He enters the room to hear my report; I tell him that Mema’s cancer is terminal now. She has already had another recurrence and it is likely traveling throughout her body. They expect her to live anywhere from 3 months to a year. My voice cracks and I try to regain composure.  I’ve got to be strong for my family.  Aaron wipes under his eye with his finger. I can see the reality is sinking in slowly and he is not sure how to process the information. I assure him that the has some time and that Roy and I are going to visit her this coming weekend if he and Candice would like to go with us.

He takes a long shower and I know that he is crying in there, then leaves to get Candice.

This is so not happening!

Phase One, denial.

Ran over to mom's after work again today. She's still at M.D. and I got a few more bills in the mail to write checks for. Fed Buffy. She looks like she might be getting another tumor on her belly. Locking up, I glance back at the room. In a perfect world, I could leave this house exactly as it is today. It's my comfort.

I pull out of the driveway and stare at the house as I drive around front. The yellow bricks seem to look so aged and tired, as does the yard. The hedges once provided a full, thriving trim are now shabby and thin, and the yard seems to have gone grey as well. I visualize the healthy yard we grew up with and I can hear the sound of children - of me and my sisters, chattering, laughing, fussing, and just being silly.

Tears.

I drive away and cry as I think about how much things have changed since we all lived in the house. My father has died. My mother will, inevitably, pass one day too. I am growing older and some day it will be me looking death in the face. I used to think I was not afraid to die but, in this moment, I question myself. Am I, afraid of death? Why am I crying? Because I am afraid of losing these things? These situations? These people? What is it that Elizabeth Gilbert said in the movie Eat, Pray, Love in her letter to David? The only real trap is our attachment to anything. If I have no fear of dying because of my full-faith in an afterlife, then why am I crying? Maybe, I do have doubts and, consequently, attachments?

I remember the child I was as I shimmied up the pole to the birdhouse high in the sky so I might witness the miracle of a young hatchling. I was young and I could swing from the tree branches just as good as any real monkey. I was young and I would bike race the boys in the hood, determined that this time I was going to win!  I was young and I sat in the middle of the street practicing my hammering skills with my dad's nails driving them deep into the soft, black pavement so as not to cause any flats. I was young and in search of the smallest, strangest bug one could find. I was young and I dug up arrowheads from the dirt at the end of our driveway (no shit! real arrowheads!). I was young and I lay on the driveway soaking in the warmth exuding from the sun and concrete, and watching the clouds as they drift across the sky. I was young and I sat on the rooftop for a moment of quiet, reflective solitude. I was young and my goal was to never grow old enough that I would ever have responsibilities such as monthly bills and a job.

But, here I am. 

I wonder if my mother just wants her mother. I wonder if my mother no longer desires to mother me but prefers that I mother her now.

I'm home. Drew is having trouble focusing on her school work. She needs direction. We'll have another "talk". Candice needs a ride home and we have a nice chat about the car and Aaron. (This morning, Candice hit the curb - and hard. It blew the tire and bent the rim, but good too.) Home again after dropping off Candice, I start going over the kids schedules for the week, but stop to call mom instead. I'd received an email from Aunt Carolyn this morning stating that she was doing really good. The nose tube was out again, she was able to start on liquids again (and she's keeping them down okay). The bag on her bumm (which collected the "leak" from the fistula had been removed. And, in general, mom was doing better and Aunt Carolyn is thinking of going home this week as she is feeling less needed (finally). My aunt has been through so much during mom's cancer recurrences, and naturally, it's exhausted her a lot. 

I can only imagine.

The phone rings and my aunt answers.  "How's it going?" I chirp expecting to hear all the good news again.

She replies, "Well, I'll let you talk to your mom."

Mom gets on and I ask again how things are going. She immediately tells me...

She immediately tells me...

.....

.....I'm numb. This isn't happening.  I just can't process it - not yet. But when then? How? I don't understand and my response is much the same as when I received the news about dad. 

"What are you talking about?" 

"What are you trying to say?" 

"Are you sure?"

"I don't understand." 

"Are you sure?" 

"What are you talking about?"

Apparently, mom had 3 or 4 more tumors pop up recently and during the surgery on her fistula they biopsied them. Today, Dr. Burke's assistant came to meet with mom and began to cry as she broke the news to her. Mom has only 3 months to 1 year to live. A chaplain had come in to visit and pray with mom just before this.

And, so, Mom isn't coming home. 

She isn't coming home - ever. 

She will end up checking into the M.D. Anderson Hospice Center and remain there until her passing.

I'll never get to just sit in the living room with her to visit and watch tv... ? I'm selfish. I needed those moments.

Mom goes on talking to me about arrangements, and the location of things, and I don't even know what else. She is just going through the motions and it's obvious that she is just as numb as I. I listen to her voice but not her words. She sounds good. She sounds healthier. She sounds lucid. She sounds, numb.

I don't know what to say and I don't want to say anything. I can't think. I can't feel. Every time I allow myself to think or feel, I cry. 

Aaron's birthday is this month and I don't want him to associate this with his birthday so I'm not ready to tell him. I can't let any of the kids know until May. But then there is Drew's birthday. How long can I keep this in? How long should I keep this in? Aaron despises secrets. He would want me to tell him asap. Maybe I should.

This is death.

I think about Candice and how she and her family watched her grandmother die ever so slowly in there own home. Maybe they can offer some words of wisdom to me.

The thought of life going on after you die. You are dead and people still laugh. Still fight. Still move. Still enjoy life. What is going to go through my mother's mind? This woman who I always thought of as such a rock, such a strength; but today, she is feeling so weak. Is she getting mentally ready to actually embrace death? No way, my mom will cry all the way to it. 

What if this were me? What if I were the one passing away? Would I feel alone?

How will we deal with this?

I remember - I know how. I have to be strong for my kids. Teach them to deal with this in a healthy way. This is a spiritual situation and it can be beautiful.

*

Liz's letter to David in Eat, Pray, Love:

"Dear David, We haven't had any communication in a while and it's given me time I needed to think. Remember when you said we should live with each other and be unhappy so that we could be happy? Consider it a testimony to how much I love you that I spent so long pouring myself into that offer trying to make it work. But a friend took me to the most amazing place the other day. It's called the Augusteum. Octavian Augustus built it to house his remains. When the barbarians came, they trashed it along with everything else. The great Augustus, Rome's first true great emperor, how could he have imagined that Rome, the whole world as far as he was concerned, would one day be in ruins? It's one of the quietest and loneliest places in Rome. The city has grown up around it over centuries. It feels like a precious wound, like a heartbreak you won't let go of because it hurts too good. We all want things to stay the same, David. Settle for living in misery because we're afraid of change, of things crumbling to ruins. Then I looked around  in this place, at the chaos it's endured, the way it's been adapted, burned, pillaged, then found a way to build itself back up again, and I was reassured. Maybe my life hasn't been so chaotic. It's just the world that is and the only real trap is getting attached to any of it. Ruin is a gift. Ruin is the road to transformation. Even in this eternal city the Augusteum showed me that we must always be prepared for endless waves of transformation. Both of us deserve better than staying together because we're afraid we'll be destroyed if we don't."

Besides...

Besides my mother developing a fistula and, consequently, leaking feces from her grafted area, and undergoing yet another surgery to repair this recent hiccup, and 

besides Drew's trip to the ER for severe abdomen do to what turned out to be a bladder infection (in addition to the sinus infection and ear infection that she was already enduring), and

besides Roy getting completely prepped for surgery on his knee only to have it fall through at the very last minute due to an emergency with another patient, and 

besides my boss, Micah, giving notice that he will be leaving the law firm so now it will be only me and Lee, and 

besides not receiving my W-2 form until today because the stupid accountants don't have their shit together, and 

besides the kids rough-housing around and falling on one of the laptops semi-breaking it, and 

besides some idiot thief breaking out the window in our Jeep to steal a bag containing a week's worth of my mother's mail - 

April has been really great so far!

What is "bad" or "good", "worse" or "better"? It's all about "State of Mind".  These are all just occurrences. They are not "good" or "bad" until my mind has labeled it that way. But what then when my mind does not label it at all? 

Decadent Fallen Chocolate Cake

 Fallen Chocolate Cake

The late Richard Sax, celebrated cookbook author and champion of home cooks the world over, inspired this flourless chocolate cake-a riff on his iconic chocolate cloud cake.

Recipe by Alison Roman
8-10 servings

(Copied & pasted from bon appetit)

Ingredients
-Cake 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, cut into 1-inch pieces, plus more, room temperature, for pan
-3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar, divided, plus more for pan
-10 ounces semisweet or bittersweet chocolate (61%-72% cacao), coarsely chopped
-2 tablespoons vegetable oil
-6 large eggs
-2 tablespoons natural unsweetened cocoa powder
-1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt

Topping
-1 cup chilled heavy cream
-1/2 cup mascarpone
-3 tablespoons powdered sugar



Special Equipment
A 9-inch-diameter springform pan

Preparation
Cake Preheat oven to 350°. Lightly butter springform pan and dust with sugar, tapping out any excess.

Combine chocolate, oil, and 1/2 cup butter in a large heatproof bowl. Set over a saucepan of simmering water and heat, stirring often, until melted. Remove bowl from saucepan.

Separate 4 eggs, placing whites and yolks in separate medium bowls. Add cocoa powder, vanilla, salt, 1/4 cup sugar, and remaining 2 eggs to bowl with yolks and whisk until mixture is smooth. Gradually whisk yolk mixture into chocolate mixture, blending well.

Using an electric mixer on high speed, beat egg whites until frothy. With mixer running, gradually beat in 1/2 cup sugar; beat until firm peaks form.

Gently fold egg whites into chocolate mixture in 2 additions, folding just until incorporated between additions. Scrape batter into prepared pan; smooth top and sprinkle with remaining 2 tablespoons sugar.

Bake until top is puffed and starting to crack and cake is pulling away from edge of pan, 35-45 minutes. Transfer to a wire rack and let cake cool completely in pan (cake will collapse in the center and crack further as it cools). DO AHEAD: Cake can be made 1 day ahead. Cover in pan and store airtight at room temperature.

Topping
Using an electric mixer on medium-high speed, beat cream, mascarpone, and powdered sugar in a medium bowl until soft peaks form. Remove sides of springform pan from cake. Mound whipped cream mixture in center of cake.

Cooking tips!

Chow Ciao! with Fabian Viviani: How to peel garlic.  I always enjoy Fabian and this is good info for me since I've recently begun cooking with garlic.

Love me some Dr Wayne Dyer!

How to get what you really really really want


The Power of Intention


Wisdom of the ages


Wisdom of tao te ching


The awakened life

*

Louise Hay
You can heal your life


Conscious thinking

The Worst Meditation

The worst meditation has got to be the first meditation. Today, I officially did my first. I ran a warm bath to soak and relax, complete with my Bath & Body White Citrus fragrant bubbles. I set my timer for 15 minutes, sat up straight getting into position, I concentrate on my breaths. 

In and out, one. 

In and out, two. 

In and what the heck did I say to get them so pissed off? I was just defending mom! No! Shift focus back to my breaths!

In and out, three. 

In and, ugh! Itch on my back. I scratch it and try to get back back to the meditation. 

In and out, four. 

In and out, five. 

In and tears are making there way down my cheeks. Should I apologize? I don't feel like I said anything wrong. I think they completely missed my point. They are never receptive of me. Is it that they just can't imagine receiving anything constructive from me? I've got to be the dysfunctional sister in their eyes. Bullshit! Six years Erica and I didn't speak. Is that where she's taking it again? I seriously am not going to worry about it this time, if she is. She had been confiding in me and, now, had I betrayed her some how? 

I wipe my face clean. How long has it been? How much more meditation time do I have? This is so not easy. 

Breathe in, breathe out, six. 

In and out, seven. 

In and out, eight. 

In and out, nine. 

Breathe in peace, breathe out stress. 

Breathe in peace, breathe out stress. 

They pretty much gutted her. Is she empty? How will that feel after having so much removed at one time? Will her stomach be flatter? Focus! Focus! 

Breathe in, breathe out. 

Think of nothing. Focus on my mind's eye, maybe. I need to blog more information on meditation.

Breathe in and out.

In and out.

I love my sisters. I really do. Maybe I should send them a text? Tell them what I love about them? Tell Brenda that I am so grateful for her strength? That I envision her standing between me and Erica, her arms around us, and together we are such a strong force. Nothing can shake us. Tell her Erica beautiful she is. How much I've always admired her. How much I value her friendship. Tears again. Ugh!

Breathe in, breathe out.

Maybe I should do nothing. Just sit back and see what happens.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Breathe in, breathe out.

If I approach Erica, she will likely just reject me anyhow. Let it go.

Breathe in, breathe out.

This has got to be the worst meditation ever! Maybe I should blog about this. 

Breathe in, breathe out.

Another itch. I check the time. Five more minutes, but I am so done.

Meditating in the bath

1. Make Time. Block off at least 15 minutes where you won’t be interrupted.

2. Use Aromatherapy Bath Products. As you run the bath, incorporate some of the benefits of aromatherapy (e.g. bubble-bath, bath oils scented with lavender (lavender has been proven to add in relaxation); or peppermint (if you want to feel more alert); or another scent that you really like (studies show that subjectively pleasing scents bring stress relief benefits, too). This way you can add another layer of stress relief with no additional effort.

3. Get In and Relax. Let your breathing become slower and deeper, allowing your belly to rise and fall with each breath (instead of your shoulders or chest). This type of breathing is more natural, and can help turn of your stress response if it was still triggered from earlier in the day. (Read more about breathing exercises.)

4. Focus on Sensations. Now just focus on the sensations that you feel in your body (the warmth of the water on your skin, the pressure of the tub against your back) and let go of all other thoughts. Try to keep your mind quiet and your attention focused on only the present moment.

5. Stay In The Present. If you find thoughts of the past, the future, or any form of internal dialogue happening, gently redirect your attention to the present moment. Continue for several minutes, and you should feel soothed and relaxed quickly.

Tips:

1. If you’re new to meditation, you may want to try the meditation part of it for 5 or 10 minutes at first, and work your way up. (Time spent in the tub – whether in meditation or not – should still be relaxing enough.)

2. If you find it difficult to keep your mind completely clear, you may want to try a mantra meditation. This is a form of meditation where you focus on repeating a sound or phrase over and over. It can be a nice alternative for those who become frustrated by a mental voice that wants to keep talking. (See these tips on mantra meditation.)

3. You can also add music as a focal point for your meditation with the Musical Bath Meditation.

Resources:

The Bath Tub Diva |Bubbles & Ohm 

ApartmentTherapy | How to meditate in the bath tub

For Crying Out Loud

I am so completely emotionally and  physically exhausted. My hope is to blog this and then be done with it. Put it all behind me and not worry about it again. I don't know if it will work.

Friday, February 22, 2013: I worked today. Mom has gone to M.D. Anderson with my aunt for pre-op tests. I'd forgotten and tried to call her to no avail. When there is no answer on the second try, I begin to worry about all the crazy what-ifs (I'm like my mother this way). Finally, about the fifth try, she answers. She's always so apologetic to find out that she's worried me. It's my own fault. I'm certain she has informed me and I'd just forgotten. Initially, I was trying to call her to tell her about Candice's wreck (I thought the insurance may have her telephone number in their records and try to reach Aaron by way of her phone); I decided to wait until she was home to tell her because I didn't want her to worry while on the road. I left work about 3:00-3:30 and went to eat with Roy at Grandy's restaurant. As we pulled up to the restaurant, mom calls to remind me to pick up her mail. I'd forgotten but act like I hadn't (anyhow, I'd had an alarm on my cellphone to remind me at 4:45). We eat and then I drop off Roy and run to the post office. Later, I arrive at mom's with her mail. I sit down at the table as I did when mom was there to sort it out, match the receipts with her credit card bills, and arrange personal bills for Erica to pay. Mom has been training me for managing the apartments and other various "work" to do for her while she's in the hospital or after she's "gone". I don't like the thought, but I know this needs to be done so that we are not clueless when the time comes to handle these matters. It's easier to train when I know that "it" is not imminent. With the recurrence of this cancer though, I worry that "it" is closer than what we can deal with. I finish these "chores" and mom and I sit to visit and relax. She goes through each of the surgical procedures. She has been told that this is the first time the doctors at M.D. Anderson have performed this number of procedures during one sitting. Mom says referring to my sisters, "(they) don't understand, this is like a wedding in a way, not a good way though - but this is about me." I agree. We hold hands for a bit and she says, "you have to be my strength, okay." I assure her. Aware that I am worried that Brenda and Erica may want to leave the hospital earlier than I'd like, mom informs me that my Aunt Jeanette (her sister) and husband have offered to provide my transportation home should I stay longer than Brenda and Erica would like. This is a relief for me - no reason to feel rushed now. I have officially asked off of work for Monday through Wednesday, but I can extend this without issue ("my guys" (bosses) are understanding and generous this way). Mom says, "You know, Brenda is wanting to go shopping while I'm in surgery." Wow! I knew this because Erica had already told me, but I was surprised to find out that she'd told mom too. I respond, "I know, Erica told me, but Erica and I are both up there for you and we want to sit in the hospital the entire time so that we can get updates on your status right away." Erica had called the day before, informing me about Brenda's shopping intentions and how uncomfortable she was telling Brenda "no". 

This scenario is almost identical to the one that played out for the last trip to M.D. Anderson only a week ago. Erica had called me in the days before leaving for the hospital, nervously notifying me that Brenda had wanted to drop mom off at the hotel, leaving her there, while we went out to eat with Kaitlyn. Erica and I both did not care for the idea. Not because we didn't want to see Kaitlyn - that would be great! But because we didn't want to leave mom alone. The whole reason for the trip is to give mom support and Brenda was clearly not interested in this. Erica states that Brenda was not worried about leaving mom alone because, "she's a big girl, she can take care of herself." 

Eventually, as it turned out, the opportunity presented itself for Erica to address the issue with Brenda again and, having thought out her words ahead of time, the conversation went as smoothly as it could and Brenda was informed that we would not be leaving the hospital to shop while mom was in surgery.

Sunday, February 24, 2013: Mom and Aunt Carolyn head for Houston as mom has more pre-op testing Monday morning.

Monday, February 25, 2013: Brenda, Erica, and I meet at Erica's house. Brenda announces that we need to hurry so that we can pick up Kaitlyn and go eat. This is news to me. I didn't dress to run around town. I didn't dress to go out to eat. And Roy and I had just eaten, so I was not hungry at all. It really should not have surprised me. Brenda tried to pull this the last time. As I'm surprised by these plans and don't have the words to address it, I refrain from saying anything. I'm a little torn by it. On the one hand, I would hate to go to a town where my daughter was living and miss an opportunity to see her; and on the other hand, I believe if it were me and Drew, that Drew would likely sit at the hospital with me when she had the opportunity and we would eat there together. 

We head for Houston about 5:30p. Once there, Brenda heads straight for Kaitlyn and we get to see her dorm and then head for a restaurant called Chipolte's. As this was an unexpected dinner and I had already eaten, I get only a drink and Erica surprises me by buying it for me. Kaitlyn is such a beautiful person both inside and out and it's a nice visit. 

After dropping Kaitlyn back at her dorm, Aunt Carolyn calls Erica to let us know that mom is at the emergency room. Mom had been drinking the magnesium sulfate to clean her bowls prior to surgery and began bleeding profusely. She states that it appears mom will remain in the hospital overnight and then go straight into surgery in the morn. She further states that mom wants me to stay with her in the hospital overnight, as opposed to my Aunt Carolyn. My Aunt Carolyn has done so much for her sister during this time, running her back and forth to the hospital and staying with her before and after surgery. It's exhausting on both of them and occasionally they bump heads (understandably). I am happy to stay with mom but Brenda seems to be upset by this and begins her ramble, "Why!?" she demands, huffing about how unnecessary it is. She is obviously taking it personally and completely offended (again), but Erica sends me a text; she is secretly relieved as she is worried that Brenda may cause them to be late to the hospital and consequently, miss mom before going into surgery. 

At the hospital, Brenda must stay in the car as there does not seem to be parking nearby. Erica and I go in and find mom. She is doing fine and watching HGtv. We talk for a bit. Erica leaves. Aunt Carolyn leaves. I sit next to mom and she turns to tell me, "They plan to open me up, look at the lymph nodes in her upper body, and if there is cancer in them, they will simply close me up and not doing anything further." She tears up and I quickly grab her hand and reassure her that they will not find anything in them. (Obviously, I am simply trying to stay positive, but I'm worried too. There is no time to process this information and dwell on it now.) She goes on, "Dr. Burke doesn't think he will find anything either..." (Dr. Thomas Burke, M.D is the Executive Vice President of M.D. Anderson and Physician-in-Chief - he is, uh, kinda important to say the least, with an impressive background and very kind, we are all very happy and blessed to have him as mom's physician.) And now ironically, here we are looking forward to the ostomy pouches. If she wakes to bags, she will know it is not the worse case scenario. About 12:05a, mom is moved to a room (P319) and the magnesium sulfate is doing it's job - and how! The room is reeking and I'm trying not to act bothered by the smell and mentally remind myself that my entire family has stunk up the house pretty good in the past too. I don't want to sleep unless mom is sleeping. Mom perches herself on the "throne" and I push a table in front of her with a pillow for her to lay her head and try to rest some. If we slept at all that night, it was for only minutes.

Tuesday, February 26, 2013: 4:30a, my alarm goes off and mom wants me text Erica and Brenda. She does not know how far they are from the hospital and how long they need to get there. Erica responds that it will take only 10 minutes to get to the hospital. I let her know that they should arrive by 6:00a. I send another text at 5:30a to remind them it's getting close. She responds that they are "up and getting ready." By 6:22a they arrive. Mom has been taken to a pre-op room to be prepared for surgery. I run out to the waiting area to get Brenda and Erica who are sitting with Aunt Carolyn. My aunt asks if mom informed me about the lymph node issue and I affirm. I ask if she's told Brenda and Erica and she responds no; so I turn to them and let them know that they will open mom up and before they get started on anything, they will check mom's upper lymph nodes for cancer and, if there is cancer in them, they will simply close her up. I quickly follow with the assurance that the doctor has said that he doesn't believe there will be anything in them. Then I show them the way to mom. I'm in the waiting room with my aunt while they visit as there can only be two people in the room at a time. Erica says that mom cried on and off as she talked to the nurses. Erica goes on to say how quickly mom fell asleep after the anesthesia was administered; she also states that the doctor wanted to give mom an epidural but, afraid of the procedure, mom quickly dismisses it. The surgery is expected to take 10-14 hours to complete. Now we wait. We will receive updates on the surgery every two hours. We will sit and worry until we receive notice that they are proceeding with all of the intended surgeries (this includes removal of the rectum (I think it's medical term is proctectomy), removal of the bladder (I think it's also called a cycstectomy), removal of the uterus (also known as a hysterectomy), removal of three (Squamous Cell Carcinoma) cancer tumors, two stomas (the colostomy (for feces) and the ileostomy (for urine), removal of at least four lymph nodes (which they will inspect for cancer), and then grafting which may be the most sensitive of all the surgeries as it will complicate and extend the healing period if the skin does not take. They are taking a long piece of skin from the stomach area, along the incision area, twisting it around and feeding it through the incision, through her body, somehow out of the body behind the area of tumor removal and the wrapping it up towards the front to cover that area where her vagina and anus would have been. She will have nothing left of that area, it will simply be a smooth piece of skin grafted over the entire area. 

Settled in the waiting area, we surprise Aunt Carolyn with the Kindle mom had bought for her as a thank-you gift for all she has done and I spend my time talking to her about how it works and going slowly through all the games and applications I had installed on it. She is surprised and excited with it. Erica and Brenda have brought stuff from work to keep them occupied. Brenda has her headphones on with music playing and she's singing along to them as if she has no care in the world - completely as ease (this kind of baffles me and kind of doesn't. This is how she is - I just don't get it). Erica tries to distract herself with work but is obviously counting the minutes until the next update. 

About 10:30a, the first nurse comes out to say that mom has only recently gone in and surgery has barely begun. About 2 1/2 hours later, another nurse comes out to say that, "...Dr. Burke has completed his part and should come out soon to tell us more details." We didn't ask anything further - I suppose because we thought we'd wait for Dr. Burke. Ugh! What did she mean? We were all quite confused and stressed now. Was Dr. Burke finished and other doctors doing there part now? We knew that there were at least four teams in the room with her. Or, are they closing her up? Hours went by and no Dr. Burke. I was quite frustrated now, with the nurse for the confusion, and with myself for not getting more details from her. Approximately 2:30p, another nurse (I believe the anesthesiologist) comes out and lets us know that everything is going really well and expects that the surgery will be completed by about 4:00-ish. She doesn't have details as she doesn't want to incorrectly inform us on parts of the operation that she was not included in. She states that there is one team working on the "top" and another team working on the "bottom". At least now we know that they have continued doing everything intended which means no cancer in the upper lymph nodes. Finally able to relax a little, my aunt takes me to another floor where there is an empty visiting room with couches to lay on. I set my alarm for one hour as I don't want to miss the next update - then conk out. 

Shortly after arriving back in the waiting room, the reconstructive surgeon comes out to let us know that everything went well. She will not be allowed to sit in an upright position until she is healed and the grafting has taken. He expects it to be another 45 minutes until we can visit her. About 1 1/2 hours later, Dr. Burke comes out to say that everything went really, really well. He reiterates all the procedures that were performed and reassures us that there is nothing left for the cancer to come back on and for this reason, he did not opt for any radiation. He went on to say the x-rays showed the upper lymph nodes were likely just damaged from previous radiation treatments and didn't feel it was anything to worry about (it seemed that he decided not to look at them at all). All in all, things went well and it's time for healing. He states that, when the time comes, if she can not be transported in my aunts vehicle to the nursing home, the hospital will provide transportation. He states that it should be another 45 minutes until she can be seen. We wait. 

Finally in ICU, we visit mom. Her skin is pale and she is still very, very groggy; I doubt she'll remember our visit at all. 

*

It's late. My eyes are hurting from headache and lack of sleep. Earlier, I had check my blood pressure at a station there in the hospital - 165/111 (Stage 3 hypertension - I should have brought my meds). Brenda and Erica inform me that they got a hotel room for the night (compliments of mom) and we headed that way leaving my aunt to stay in the hospital again. We offered our shower to her but she declined saying she would wait until mom was in a room. The hotel was a rinky-dink disgusting place. What were they thinking? Erica gags on the way to the room stating that I smell like mom and announces that she will be sleeping with Brenda because of my smell and snoring. I head straight for the bath and soak for a long while trying to de-stress, then shower and get ready for bed. I'll crash as soon as my head hits the pillow. 

As they are both sitting on the bed by the window I plop on the other. Brenda heads for the shower and alone with Erica now, she informs me that Brenda cried last night as she talked about her issues with mom. Erica was obviously feeling sympathetic for Brenda, but in my mind I roll my eyes. I'm physically and emotionally exhausted at this point, but I'm tired too, of Brenda's crybaby bullshit as if she were abused all her life. 

Out loud I say, "Well, I feel sorry for mom. She's getting older and even though this surgery went really well and she's survived another cancer scare, her days are still numbered. She could live another 10-20 years or whatever, but regardless of how long, she would love to spend more time with her daughters and grandchildren." 

I go on to say that she knows how she (Erica) and Brenda feel about her. That you (Erica) are grossed out by her and Brenda is happier when she's not around her, but she knows ya'll love her, but she still has down times too. 

Erica responds with, "I'm not grossed out by her, I just have a weak stomach." 

"Well" I smile, trying to say this nicely, "Tomayto - Tomahto, right."

"Don't get me wrong though, I get it Erica. I was there too! Right along with you! I remember sitting behind her in the car and she was scratching her head and I just wanted to move to another seat, but it's easier for me as she gets older."

"See. It's harder for me the older she gets. Do you think she knows? Cause I don't think she knows" Erica says.

"Sure she knows Erica, but you know, she knows ya'll love her. She does. It's just mood swings. Ups and downs. But she wants to spend more time with everyone and I feel bad for her."

Brenda enters the room walking up to the bed as if to get in my face, hands on her hips, and her face is obviously pissy already, "Who do you feel sorry for?" she demands. 

Now this is where things get way to dramatic and I'll try to include everything I can recall to remain as factual as possible, but we were all pretty emotional and I can't remember every word for word.

As I'm responding to Brenda, Erica jumps up to run to the shower. (Chicken shit, I think to myself.)

"Well, I was telling Erica that I feel bad for mom. She wants to spend more time with her daughters and grandchildren. Her days are numbered and I would hate for there to be any regrets."

Brenda goes in to some storm now, "Well what about me! What about how she's treated me!? The telephone goes both ways! And she's never asked me to do anything!"

"Now Brenda, you've been busy with Kaitlyn and her volleyball. No one is faulting you for that. But why would she impose on you when you have been so busy? Besides, it takes two to tango and the only person you can control is..."

"Myself!" Brenda finishes. "I know!" She continues stomping around and adamantly insisting that mom has treated her like shit and that she (Brenda) is fine with the relationship and obviously has no intention of working on anything! Plopping herself on the bed by the window.

I get it. She is not open to this conversation, and that's final; so, I shut the fuck up. Leaning back on the bed, I entertain myself with my phone. I just want a relaxed sleep. Brenda says, "Is that where you're sleeping?"

"Well, ya'll were both sitting on the other bed, so I assumed this one was mine."

"No. That one is ours. But I can move all of my stuff, no big deal." There is nothing on the bed so I glance over to the desk where she and Erica placed their personals. I assume now the desk must go with this bed and jump off to give way. 

Erica finishes her shower. All of us sitting on the beds with our electronics. Erica finally turns her phone off and lays down. I follow. We talk a moment about the morning alarm time and I turn off the light. Brenda continues to do her thing on her tablet. I roll over and enjoy my own bed. This isn't so bad. I stretch out and relax. 

A short while later, Brenda is sniffing. Allergies? Her sniffing is more and more frequent and I'm not going to get any sleep if she is, in fact, crying. I'll try to make this better. Still uncertain if she is actually crying, I walk around to face her and ask if she is sniffing. Obviously still frustrated she half-asks/half-demands, "What! I can't sniff now?!" I sit down next to her and say, "Of course you can sniff. I just thought you might be crying." 

"Yes I'm crying! I can't cry!?"

"I lay over her to hug her and tell her I love her followed by saying, "...but if you're waiting for mom to change..."

"No! I'm not waiting for her to change! She's not!" she screams.

I sit up, "No she's not Brenda. But you've gotta move on. Get over it. Don't let this shit eat at you." She sits up and announces that she doesn't give a shit about that, but she felt like I was attacking her. "How was I attacking you Brenda? What did I say?" She says nothing. I go over the initial conversation with her and how she had stomped over to the bed with a chip on her shoulder. She exclaims that she had no chip on her shoulder. She's angry and I'm exhausted. So, I concede, "Fine. I'll go to bed and just leave it. I don't give a fuck." 

I can't remember everything word for word, but at some point she admits that she had responded angrily to my initial conversation. I tell her it doesn't matter and that I love her. Hopefully, this is the end of it and I return to bed.

It's not. She's still crying. 

One last try to smooth things over for sleep. I attempt a pillow fight, flinging one in her direction and saying, "stop crying Brenda." She doesn't. I fling another. Still no words, just sniffing. I jump on their bed, climbing over them, trying to laugh and make light of things, "ya'll have my pillows." She sits up and again announces that I was attacking her from the start. Ugh. Erica jumps over to my bed now. Noooo. Erica had been rubbing Brenda's back to comfort her, and somehow Brenda talks me into the same. I joke about it, "this is not exactly what I had in mind. Erica come back over here." 

Erica responds, "Ya'll need to sit there until you make up."

I continue to joke about not wanting to rub Brenda's back, "you've got such a small back. Your shoulder's are so narrow, mine are broad."

"I know! I'm so jealous because now she's the little sister" Erica jokes.

"Nah. She deserves it." I respond.

Brenda goes from seeming comfort to crying again, "What do you want Karen! What am I supposed to do?!" I don't know what the fuck she's talking about now but I'm getting seriously exhausted with it, "I don't know Brenda. Stop being so pissy every time you get around mom!" 

"I'm not pissy! I'm not good enough for her! I've never been good enough for her! She didn't even know the color of my eyes! And after I showed them to her, they still weren't good enough for her!"

Oh my gawd this is ridiculous, so I say, "Brenda you've taken a small thing that she said and blown it up into something it's not! Mom loves you! She would never intentionally hurt you! No one can say shit around you because we're all afraid to piss you off!"

"Oh really! Since when!?" she demands.

"Since forever Brenda! It's always been like that - until now!" 

I think I went on about how mom is who she is, she's not going to change, you'll never get an apology, but your 48 years old - get over it. By now, I'm screaming and crying, "I'm tired of it! I'm tired of both of you going around acting like you've been so victimized by mom! She wasn't perfect. She's pissed us all of before! She's taken us all right to the edge! But she was still a good mother! And she loves both of you! And you were not abused! I've had fights with mom that would put both of ya'lls fights with her to shame! But ya get over it! You move on! Because we're family and that's what we do! Erica has hurt me in the past! And I never got an apology! But ya move on! And I'm allowed to say this! I'm allowed to say what I want too! Ugh!" I plopped into my new sleeping space as it's obvious Erica is now firmly occupying mine. 

This is bullshit! I'm exhausted and I am not in any mood to put up with their crybaby shit. They have become quite bonded because of their (imagined) mutual victimization by their mom - but it's all bullshit. They are just as much as fault for their relationship with mom, as mom is. As a matter of fact, they are probably more at fault for it because if anyone rejected anyone over the years, then it was them rejecting mom over and over again (to this day)! They pushed mom away all the time. Neither of them ever were much for cuddling with mom, and mom just made excuses for them (despite begin rejected by both of them). I remember going shopping for school clothes with mom and Erica. Mom would offer to purchase this or buy that - and Erica would refuse outfit after outfit (even those that Erica truly loved). We would end up going home, me with bags and bags of clothes, and Erica not so much - but that was her own fault. Brenda was always permitted to bring friends along for reunions and family vacations so that she could have someone to entertain her while Erica and I played together. Just one example of how mom tried to make allowances for Brenda. But, I suppose that shit doesn't count to them. They are too busy holding on to bullshit that has been manipulated in their own mind so that they can cry "foul!"

Well, now I've brought Erica into this whole shebang and she's offended too. She points out that this was the first year she had distanced herself from mom, and that in previous years she had talked to mom pretty much everyday on the phone. This is true. They have always talked on the phone. They've talked on the phone a lot actually, pretty much almost every day throughout the past years. I can't remember how I responded, whether I concurred or whether I was distracted by another conversation. 

Then Erica calmly asks, "What did I do to you Karen?"

"It doesn't matter Erica. The pain is there when I relive it, but I have no animosity towards you any more. It's over."

"What did I do?"

"I don't want to talk about it Erica. It's over. I'm just saying, I never got an apology and still we forgive each other. We get over it. We forgive and move on because we're family. It's done." I'm trying to make the point that we are family, we get over shit. We let it go, whether we get a formal apology or not.

"I'll tell you when our relationship went south" she says.

"Hmm, that would likely be elementary?" I'm remembering her always being very jealous of me. I was actually a very insecure child, but I tried to act with confidence. I enjoyed playing with Erica - she made me feel good and I enjoyed her company. But it backfired, any confidence I may have appeared to have, only seemed to make her feel that much more insecure. And she was jealous of my relationship with mom and dad. I would climb on their laps and rock. She wouldn't - but she was still jealous.

Evidently not where she was going, confused now she says, "what? because I quit playing Barbie's with you and started watching soap operas?"

"What are you talking about?" I'm confused now too.

She explains, "Our relationship went south in high school because you were hanging out with people that I didn't like, so we quit hanging out."

"You quit hanging out with me, you mean." Another painful scenario.

Brenda says, "You two sound like teenagers now."

"I didn't want to hang around the people you were hanging around."

"Okay" I say shortly, trying to end it. I'm done - spent! I am so seriously exhausted. I don't get what she's talking about now. In high school we both smoked pot for a while. When it was discovered that I was having an allergic reaction to it, I admitted it to mom. Consequently, mom shortened the maternal apron strings - a lot. I ratted out the names of people Erica was hanging with that smoked pot too. Erica was really angry at me for it too. Ever since, our relationship had gone down hill. I was dating Trey and hung with a bunch of "kickers" after that. She hung with a crowd that was much more, uh, "experienced" and seemed to party a lot. She didn't want to hang with me and it had nothing to do with the people I was hanging around. It had to do with - me. I was hurt by her rejection, but what can you do?

I lay there in the dark playing a no-nonsense game (Bejeweled). Brenda was trying to converse about it with me as if she'd never seen the game before, but I suspect she was simply trying to lighten the mood (too late). Erica was trying to talk to me and I tried to joke (dryly) with her by telling her that she had made me lose the game. Brenda chuckled, but Erica was in no mood to joke now. She rolled over and began crying. Here we go again. Earlier, I had tried to make things better with Brenda - I couldn't just ignore Erica now. So, I did the same. 

I jumped on top of her and hugged her and told her to stop crying. But her tone was different, and with a very distinctly firm voice, and putting emphasis on each word, she demands, "Get - off - of - me." 

I get it and quickly jump off. 

Laying there playing the game again, I'm still crying. I don't think I'd ever stopped during this entire time, but my eyes are killing me and if my blood pressure earlier today was 165/111, then I am seriously worried about what it might be now. 

Brenda whispers, "I can't stand hearing her cry. Go do something." 

I respond firmly, "I already tried. She made it clear that she is tired of tonight's drama. If you are worried about her then you go do something." 

She doesn't.

"Tomorrow we can all brush this under the rug too." I say.

"Karen!" Brenda says as if I've crossed the line somehow by saying so.

Whatever. I'm spent.

I put the game away and lay there trying to talk myself into peace. Counting my breaths as if in meditation. Brenda rolls over. Every now and then I feel myself drift off to sleep only to jerk awake again. I really don't want to snore right now. 

Wednesday, February 27, 2013: Erica's alarm goes off and I pretend to sleep through it. I'm not ready to get up. I haven't slept long, and I haven't slept well. My head is killing me and I'm certain my blood pressure is still outrageous. Erica gets up and begins getting ready. Brenda follows. I can hear them chatting as if nothing ever happened. Typical. I rise slowly and stretch it out in a downward dog yoga pose. 

Brenda sings happily, "Good morning sunshiiiine!" Happy as a lark, she goes in for a hug. I'm seriously not in the mood but accept. She says something like, "We were all just sleepy last night. Don't worry about it. I love you." But I'm calling bullshit. Yes, we were all sleepy and it was certainly not the best timing for all the blathering, but I still stand by everything I said. Was it better left unsaid? Maybe. I don't know. But I don't think I was attacking them, I was simply stating my sympathies for mom, and everything I said was factual. Why can't they accept facts without getting offended? But then again, they never have been very receptive to Karen speaking what Karen feels. 

I spent the day following behind them as they chit-chat happily with each other, politely speaking to me only when necessary. I'm still exhausted so I do not initiate any conversation with them either. I think they were both completely self-centered last night, I am in no mood for them. 

In recovery, mom's color is returning so much so that I thought at first she was wearing make-up on her rosy cheeks. Entering into mom's room, they both respond to her overly attentively. It's actually quite comical at first. Erica jumps at the first opportunity to sponge mom's mouth with water, but mom chokes and Erica reverts nervously. A monitor beeps loudly in response to mom's sleep apnea, and Brenda jumps at the opportunity to yell out for mom to breath ev-er-y sing-le time that damn thing beeped, and even though it is apparent that mom was, in fact, breathing, she screamed as if mom were deaf, "breath mom - breathe." 

A man enters to give mom a breathing treatment for her asthma and, again, Brenda goes on and on and on, "breathe deep mom - goooood guuurl - good girl", "another deep breath - good girl". Ugh. She is not a child - she is your mother. But I suppose this is her way of trying to make an effort to be nice to mom, and although it doesn't seem very genuine - fake it until you make it true, right. So, whatever. 

As Erica is now nervous to give mom the water for her dry mouth, I now have the task. I'm not speaking much, but mom opens her eyes. She sees me and knows I'm there. I smile, and she smiles back and mouths, "I love you." I say, "I love you too." It's not necessary for me to go overboard - mom knows. 

At one point, as I moisten mom's mouth, she asks me a question. Confused about her words I look up at Erica to see if she understood. She responds, "did you get the shampoo?"

Still confused I respond to mom, "Yeah, uh I got it" and shrug.

Mom asks, "Where is it?"

I look at Erica again for help in responding. Erica says, "it's in the shower."

I copy her, "it's in the shower mom."

"Okay" mom says.

I laugh quietly and look at Erica who turns her head away as she uncontrollably chuckles too.

At lunch, Brenda, Erica, and I go down to the cafeteria. Maybe we'll talk. Fix things. Maybe, now that we've slept this is our opportunity to calmly apologize to each other. I'm not hungry so I get a drink and sit. They bring their trays and eat as they chat with each other.  It's all very unnatural and there are no apologies. We go back to the room to give Aunt Carolyn another break. After she returns, Brenda and Erica want to walk around the hospital and ask me if I'd like to go. I decline. I just need a break from them now and besides, this will give them an opportunity to chat it up about me (the villain, haha). 

I use this time to figure out whether I'll go home with them or stay at the hospital. I'm worried about the kids. I'd like to go home and check on them but, I want to stay with mom too. I talk with Aunt Carolyn a while about mom, homeschooling, and granny. I know from mom that Aunt Carolyn enjoys being in control and I don't think she cares to share the job much; maybe she needs a break from us too. I'll go. 

I moisten mom's mouth again and she reminds me to "get a receipt." 

I look at Aunt Carolyn and laugh, "okay mom. I'll get a receipt. I'll always get a receipt, don't worry." 

"Okay" mom says.

On the ride home, I sit in the back of the car and fall asleep for about an hour. I hope I didn't snore. I'm guessing when I get home that as I get my stuff from the back of the car, Brenda will likely get out for a hug (that I didn't really want right now), and Erica will likely stay in the car (shunning me again - she's good at that. I wonder if this will last another 6 years again. Whatever. Her idea of a good relationship with me is one wherein I do not have any personal opinions to express which may oppose her own.) 

We pull up to the house and it all goes down just as I had expected. I rush inside and Drew meets me at the door with a small card that she's made for me. Can you spell "relief"? Everything melts away as she hugs me over and over and over again, saying how much she missed me and loves me. I make sure she understands how perfect the card is and how wonderful it made me feel. 

She responds, "When I was making it, I knew you'd like it, but I didn't know you were going to like it that much." 

I reiterate that I'd had such a long, stressful time away that her card worked like magic! 

Home sweet home.

I'm still thinking of mom. I need to see her again and soon. They expect to get her walking around tomorrow. I suggest to Roy that I'd really like to go see mom again this weekend, and maybe he and I, or all of us with kids in tow, can run up just for the day to check in on her real quick. He thinks it's a good idea. Maybe even Aaron and Candice can go! She would be so surprised and I think she'd like it okay as long as she's feeling up to it. I'll call her first.