Mom’s Cancer

my mom had a big surgery. she went in at 6am and they were wheeling her bed to the operating room at 8:15am. A little past 11pm I saw the doc coming out to talk to me, my sister, and my aunt, about the surgery.

That was 15 days ago. she is still recovering from that of course. she is home now and there are good days and bad days. today i installed 2 grab bars by her toilet. we rearranged her room for easier access. the meds are constant. the surgery affected her jaw, throat, neck, thigh, calf, ankle, and 2 bones were cut out.

i slept at the hospital A LOT. too much maybe. i did surprisingly get one good nights sleep there, near the end. i slept at my mom’s twice, and she’s been home 3 nights. today i was at her house 4 times.

the people that love her are numerous. she has support from here to china and back. she is strong, positive and even under the influence of anesthesia, oxycodone, and ativan she will catch things that i miss…. the nurse who touched her glove to a chair and now needs a new glove, the fact that her temperature was 98.7 not 98.9, noticing one of the IV bags in empty before the nurse.

her recovery is fast but to her it is slow. she cries. she is tired of having people do things for her. she wants to be independent. but she has a bone and “flap” from her leg now thriving in her jaw.

2 weeks more (after 10 days in hospital) with a feeding tube through the nose. no food in the mouth so the flap can take and become just another part of the mouth. no water or anything at all to be taken by mouth. her throat is fire.

her trache hole is slowly closing. the “braces” in her mouth are digging into her lips. they want to be able to wire the jaw later and straighten the face if needed. the skin graft on her thigh is a huge scab. the scar on her throat is from a horror movie.

she cries.

she tried to put her head on my shoulder one night at 4am when she was at her wits end. but then she realized it was her “bad side” and she could not put the pressure of her ear and cheek on my shoulder.

she was born 8.15.1943. they asked her that all the time when they came to take her blood or give her meds. is she old? what is old? how does one recover from a surgery so severe?

it’s been 15 days. she gets up and around by herself. doesn’t even need the walker but uses it for safety. she gets up 10 times a day. she talks. with effort but talks. she worries. she makes jokes. she cries.

we give her meds. we crush pills. we change the feeding tubes and bags. we hold the pump the flush the tubes. we give her antibiotics through an injection in the nose tube. we give her protein 5x a day. like a body builder. we inject oxycodone into the nose tube. we inject ativan. we inject aspirin. we inject a list of things.

my son made a chart for us to manage the meds every day. he’s 14. he made a nice daily chart where we caregivers go to check the last time she had anti-anxiety and the next time she gets pain meds.

my daughter made some jokes and jumped around. she’s 11. she brings joy to everything around her as she bounces in and out of the living room making jokes and throwing herself on the couch a hundred times. throwing her legs up in the air. jumping. telling jokes.

i bought her a pink zip up moo moo 2 days ago and she was wearing it today. i bought her underwear at walmart today. i installed those grips by her toilet that she says look like “refrigerator door handles.” she’s right. they are white and curved like a refrigerator door handle. i got rid of the slippery bathroom mats and replaced them with rubber back mats today.

a mother is a terrible thing to lose. i am in the serious business of saving my mother right now. i am letting my work life slack as i reel in my mother. she needs me now. i am there for her like she was there for me.

that’s what you do in a family. you be there. when you are needed. when times are tough. you are there. solid. like a cement sculpture. like a hard packed road. like a fist against a slab. solid.

my sister sent her a magnet for her frig. my mom loves shit on her frig. my mom loves sayings. my sister loves saying too. the magnet says “if you are going through hell keep going” and it is attributed to winston churchill.

i texted my aunt

what an ordeal this whole thing has been. cancer in the jawbone and the leg bone getting cut out to replace the bad jaw bone. we call her leg-jaw 2016.

this story is still being written. will she get radiation? will she have a full recovery?

let’s hope. and pray. and wish. and think. let’s love. and live. and remember. and express. let’s help. let’s commiserate. let’s communicate. let’s talk.

hospitals are hard places to be. but also good places, and healing places.

moms.

love