Changing gears

Aug. 17: I have a difficult post to write tonight, and part of the reason is that I’m really just not sure how to frame the situation with Mom’s health right now.  Another reason is that I know that I’m seeing the situation through my own particular perspective.  But since the only way I can tell the story is as I see it, that’s what I’m going to do.

Since we visited Mayo clinic three weeks ago, Mom’s health hasn’t improved at all. She’s been very week and extremely fatigued.  While she went out a few times (including a little outing with Dad last Sunday for their 35th wedding anniversary), she has rarely left the house.  A few days ago, Mom was in quite a bit of pain, was unable to sleep, and couldn’t keep food down.  Since then not only is she sleeping much more and is very groggy, but she has also become increasingly disconnected from the people or conversations going on around her.  She answers questions, but she loses her train of thought pretty quickly.  It’s been a weird shift over the last week, and it’s really disconcerting and hard for us kids to start to feel like Mom is somewhat just not there.  I almost feel like she is becoming unzippered from her active mind and self.

I had talked to Mom on the phone but hadn’t seen her since last Saturday, and it was pretty hard to see the condition Mom was in today.  Dad and Joe took Mom to see her oncologist yesterday afternoon.  Dr. Frontiera encouraged Mom to not hold off on taking anti-nausea and pain meds.  While the one mass (the Sister Joseph’s Nodule) was determined not to be cancer, they still strongly believe that the mass that is blocking the vein that drains the liver is metastatic pancreatic cancer.  Further, they believe that the symptoms that Mom is experiencing are consistent with pancreatic cancer.  And beyond treating the symptoms, there is really nothing they can do to help her.  It really sucks.

Along with making sure Mom had the best medications for her current situation, Dr. Frontiera also gave Mom a referral for hospice.

I know that this probably seems like a pretty big jump from the situation we’ve been addressing the last couple months.  I’ve been thinking of it as a changing of gears.  We’ve looking into all possible treatment options.  We’ve researched and asked and pushed, and the answer we are getting is just a sad, relatively unacceptable answer.

But even so, we have this reality in which we’re living, and I think all of us want to address the situation with as much honesty and grace as possible.  At least, that’s what I tell myself.

So this afternoon, two nurses from hospice came over to our house and explained the many services they can offer.  They talked about ways they can help keep Mom as comfortable as possible and support us all through this difficult time.  We all sat in the living room, and Mom was awake and able to respond to all their questions.

After burying Duncan this afternoon (our dog died this morning too…see this post for more info), Dad and Joe and I went out for dinner, leaving Mom home alone.  When we came home, Mom was in the kitchen making pasta.  I was really happy to see her up and making herself food and wanting to eat food.  I would say that it is completely possible that Mom will improve in the upcoming days and have a much better set of days in the future.  I just don’t know that for sure, and at this point, I wanted to be really honest about the fact that we’re talking about hoping she gets to be feeling better for a while rather than getting better altogether.

I hate to have to share this, and I’m sorry to be the bearer of such unwanted news.  I’m sure that many people are going to be interested in getting in touch with Mom or knowing what they can do.  Unfortunately, Mom’s been so fatigued these past days, that visitors and phone calls are really pretty hard for her.  She sat up and read the mail this afternoon, so letters are good, and we are planning to log into her email (margotbabler@gmail.com) and print or read her messages to her.

You can also contact me if you have questions or just would like to talk.
And so ends the day.
~Althea