Waiting to Collapse
Yesterday, after my event, I drove up to Santa Clarita to spend the night with MotherSuperior.
She had asked me if I would mind taking her to her chemo appointment in the morning and sitting with her during it.
I arrived about 10:30pm and we sat around talking and watching TV. This was the first time I'd seen her without her wig. I was shocked at how much of a .... well, cancer patient she looked.
I mean, I know she's getting treatment - I was one of the first people she told when diagnosed - but she's NEVER SEEMED sick. Scared & depressed yes - but not a cancer person.
With that shock rolling around my system - I went off to the guest bedroom and tried to sleep.
And tried ... and tried ... and tried.
I don't sleep well in different places or on 'real' beds. Plus it was hot. MotherSuperior is the type that will turn on her heater when it's 80 degrees out. Finally I was starting to itch really bad. Apparently, I had a reaction to whatever she uses to do laundry. I had a nice red and spotty rash all over my body by the crack of morning when I finally gave up and showered.
All this drama aside - I manage to push my fatigue and itchiness aside and get her to the hospital early. Her appointment was for 9:30am - by 11:15am a very pissed off MS is finally taken into the treatment room.
Ahh the treatment room. A sad sad depressing place - yet at the same time a room of fierce and desperate hope.
A long room with a row of turquoise blue sorta like dentist chairs facing the wall with a bank of windows behind them. Next to each chair is an IV tree and flow monitors. In each chair is a plethora of people. Old, not so old, white, black, asian, mexican, and true mutt. Mostly female - but men were represented. Everyone was a determined cheerful and flashed smiles all around. The nurses were harried and friendly - but at the same time a little patronizing. As if they were parents tending to wayward children. I've seen this before - I don't think for the most part that these medical people consciously think of the people in their care as children - I think it might be more that they don't know how to emotionally interact with adults who are ill and in some ways dependent on them without reducing them to children. For if they see them as adults - maybe that would make their own vulnerability and mortality to real? I don't know - but it seems to be unhelpful to the patients.
MS ascended her chemical throne and was duly fitted with her needle and hooked-up to the first of her two bags of chemicals. I joked with her that I had expected the chemo liquid to be toxic green and yellow - not an innocuous clear. She and the women on either side of her laughed and agreed that it didn't seem quite right that things didn't look the way they were.
I chit chatted myself dry for the next 3 hours keeping her entertained and not focusing on where and why she was - which is after all why she brought me. I was sad that so many in the room had no one with them and grieved that my mother had faced this alone. It was a bittersweet time for me. I was happy to be there for MS - but still angry and guilty on not being able to be there for mom. Something that will probably never leave me no matter how much time passes.
Finally we were released and extremely hungry. MS said she doesn't start to feel bad until the next day - so while tired wasn't at all nauseous. Since we were close by, we went to Follow Your Heart - where I continued my efforts to increase her foodie experience. Last year, I had finally convinced her to try hummus - despite her KNOWING that she wouldn't like it. Well she loved it. So today I got her to try tabbouleh - and again she was surprised and delighted. Score two for Catta!
We shopped a bit and I finally dropped her off at home around 5pm. I booked back to my place grabbed my stuff and headed to my event in Pasadena. Stopping on the way to grab an energy drink as I was seriously flagging and beginning to be dangerous on the road.
I made it home a little before 10pm with the energy draining out of me. Now I'm tired as hell - but unable to sleep. Always always always. Sometimes, I wish my body and mind would get their act together and give me a break.
It's been a hectic 24+ hours. I'd like a nap already.
She had asked me if I would mind taking her to her chemo appointment in the morning and sitting with her during it.
I arrived about 10:30pm and we sat around talking and watching TV. This was the first time I'd seen her without her wig. I was shocked at how much of a .... well, cancer patient she looked.
I mean, I know she's getting treatment - I was one of the first people she told when diagnosed - but she's NEVER SEEMED sick. Scared & depressed yes - but not a cancer person.
With that shock rolling around my system - I went off to the guest bedroom and tried to sleep.
And tried ... and tried ... and tried.
I don't sleep well in different places or on 'real' beds. Plus it was hot. MotherSuperior is the type that will turn on her heater when it's 80 degrees out. Finally I was starting to itch really bad. Apparently, I had a reaction to whatever she uses to do laundry. I had a nice red and spotty rash all over my body by the crack of morning when I finally gave up and showered.
All this drama aside - I manage to push my fatigue and itchiness aside and get her to the hospital early. Her appointment was for 9:30am - by 11:15am a very pissed off MS is finally taken into the treatment room.
Ahh the treatment room. A sad sad depressing place - yet at the same time a room of fierce and desperate hope.
A long room with a row of turquoise blue sorta like dentist chairs facing the wall with a bank of windows behind them. Next to each chair is an IV tree and flow monitors. In each chair is a plethora of people. Old, not so old, white, black, asian, mexican, and true mutt. Mostly female - but men were represented. Everyone was a determined cheerful and flashed smiles all around. The nurses were harried and friendly - but at the same time a little patronizing. As if they were parents tending to wayward children. I've seen this before - I don't think for the most part that these medical people consciously think of the people in their care as children - I think it might be more that they don't know how to emotionally interact with adults who are ill and in some ways dependent on them without reducing them to children. For if they see them as adults - maybe that would make their own vulnerability and mortality to real? I don't know - but it seems to be unhelpful to the patients.
MS ascended her chemical throne and was duly fitted with her needle and hooked-up to the first of her two bags of chemicals. I joked with her that I had expected the chemo liquid to be toxic green and yellow - not an innocuous clear. She and the women on either side of her laughed and agreed that it didn't seem quite right that things didn't look the way they were.
I chit chatted myself dry for the next 3 hours keeping her entertained and not focusing on where and why she was - which is after all why she brought me. I was sad that so many in the room had no one with them and grieved that my mother had faced this alone. It was a bittersweet time for me. I was happy to be there for MS - but still angry and guilty on not being able to be there for mom. Something that will probably never leave me no matter how much time passes.
Finally we were released and extremely hungry. MS said she doesn't start to feel bad until the next day - so while tired wasn't at all nauseous. Since we were close by, we went to Follow Your Heart - where I continued my efforts to increase her foodie experience. Last year, I had finally convinced her to try hummus - despite her KNOWING that she wouldn't like it. Well she loved it. So today I got her to try tabbouleh - and again she was surprised and delighted. Score two for Catta!
We shopped a bit and I finally dropped her off at home around 5pm. I booked back to my place grabbed my stuff and headed to my event in Pasadena. Stopping on the way to grab an energy drink as I was seriously flagging and beginning to be dangerous on the road.
I made it home a little before 10pm with the energy draining out of me. Now I'm tired as hell - but unable to sleep. Always always always. Sometimes, I wish my body and mind would get their act together and give me a break.
It's been a hectic 24+ hours. I'd like a nap already.