Angels don't have wings

I think not being very good at being sick isn't a bad thing.  Mom expresses this inability but is doing pretty well.  She got a little infection in her finger from a cut she sustained doing normal house work on any normal day.  Us cancer newbies are still learning that a few things are different and some changes need to be made.  We will work at it and wear super industrial gloves if we need to.

My mom mentioned a couple of times how she was impressed by this idea of guardian angels that have come up in a blessing to her daughter and a blessing given to mom..  Our animated imagery of this occasionally reverts back to our childhood perspective of guardian angels.  You know, the ones where angels dressed in some sort of glowingish white outfit who have large wings and fly back and forth protecting us from evil.  Mom probably has those too, but I'd like to focus this post on those who do not have wings.

They look like a text message from a friend asking if everything is ok, a phone call from a loving father making sure she made it home alright, or a visiting friend with a meal and some encouraging words.  They are those who take walks, send emails, or call for a talk, and most certainly they surround her saving her from evil.  Many of these acts I haven't seen, but I hear them through my mom or other angels that have stopped by.  I hear of a sweet prayer offered on behalf of my mom at the start of a relief society meeting.  I see it when neighbor boys hop the fence and start the lawn mower.  I feel it in a letter sent by mom's uncle.  Mom's text messages include the phrases from multiple senders, "R you ok?" "Just checking in" "How are things going today?" "Could I still stop by tomorrow?" "Thinking of you and love you."  It happens at work, it happens at home, it happens at water aerobics,  church, and family gatherings.

To extended family who have pitched in at baby showers, stopped by during chemo day one, locked me down in a death stare threatening me with my life if I didn't let them help, giving blessings, praying for mom, being with mom, and helping her to enjoy life in adverse circumstances: we say thank you.  I often think of one night I showed up at mom's house at 9:00 at night and several family members were there visiting.  There have been many experiences like this that she and we have appreciated immensely.

Brad & Emily, Jill & Ty with Megan, Nolan, and Lilian, Amy and Nick, and sweet Caiti, I think of you as the strongest of sentinels guarding our mother.  I've seen it in dinners made, walks taken, tears shed, packages, pictures, phone calls, blessings, airplane tickets, and unannounced visits.  I am proud to be the brother of the finest people I have ever met.

To those of you who have guarded my mother we say thank you for giving her a gift of friendship and love.  Know that she and we are buoyed by this.  It's supposedly the chemotherapy that is tackling her cancer treatment but I know it's you who is working on curing it.

Just an Update

I find myself having a hard time coming up with titles for posts, just like our friend Joe did on his blog about cancer. Maybe I'll get more creative as time goes on! Mom went in for her white-blood-cell-increasing shot yesterday, something she was a little anxious about because she'd heard it could hurt pretty badly. It didn't, though! The nurse said, "This isn't a scientific fact, and I think someone should do a study about it, but it seems like when the shot hurts, there's more pain later, and vice versa." So we're hoping, since the shot didn't hurt, she won't be in much pain over the next couple of days.

Mom told me yesterday that she woke up feeling so good she was giddy, almost like a school girl. (That image makes me happy!) She was busy all day, going on a walk with a friend, visiting a friend who is expecting and on bed rest, finding a place for firewood my grandpa sent,

A LOT of firewood

and grocery shopping. By the time I talked to her in the evening she said she could tell she was getting tired, but otherwise felt great! She did take a nap, though, which is an unusual thing for her to do! I told her she might be converted to napping after this experience, and have more in common with Caiti and Nick. :)

Tackling the Mountain

It's not that the height of the mountain changes, it's that our belief in the capacity we have increases.  Last night we spent the closing hours of the day uncorking some of the anxieties that the word cancer entails.  I mean what do you think of when you hear cancer right? A battle, a fight, a struggle, the worst, a mother, a brother, a friend, or a daughter.  Mom's always been a champion and taking on cancer is no exception.  It doesn't mean that she's not afraid of what could happen or how different her life will be over the next four months (or a lifetime), but it means that she never questioned about going forward to take care of the Lymphoma inside of her.  Today came, the base of the mountain arrived and away we went.

Armed with a dear friend (or daughter as the doctor guessed, props to mom for tricking the doctor into thinking she had such a young daughter)  and me, we went with mom to get the party started.  Doc spoke music to Mom's ears, "not in the Bone Marrow, not in the Organs, and mostly concentrated to the belly (although she did a pretty good number in the belly)."  This was one of the bigger fears that the cancer was actually worse than projected.  It's hard to describe the relief mom felt but a quite optimism filled her.  She remembered to breath, she smiled just a little bit, and then she started up the mountain. 

We moved to the chemo room filled with people of all shapes and sizes.  Many were quietly resting with their eyes pressed shut.  Another woman in a bright yellow exercise suit was writing cards.  Another woman, the companion to one of the other patients, spotted us as rookies and quickly helped us set up shop around the chair mom would spend her morning sipping on benadryl, a couple of anti-nausea meds, and a start in to the retuxan.  Kerstin and I staid until noon when Caiti, Grandma, and Grandpa showed up in full force (5 people around mom really made us look like the newbies).  G&G staid until Grandpa decided it was time to go pick up some of the many sticks that were around his front yard, Brad provided much appreciatd reinforcment and made her exercise after the long day, and Caiti brought home the victor.  

It's not that mom was the victor because she beat cancer, but because she saw inside of her an enhanced ability to tackle the mountain the lies ahead.  That's not to say she's a totally different person.  Trust me, there is no other person that benadryl works so well on.  But as the doctor said, we're "excitedly optimistic" about the prospects of mom responding well to treatment.  What we are perhaps as excited about is the part where mom, and us with her, come to see ourselves as more capable to tackle the mountains that life will bring.  Here's to one day at a time.   

Chemo: Day 1

After two long weeks of waiting to get this party started, today was the first day of chemotherapy treatment.  It was long, but started with the great news that the bone marrow scans had come back clear, and was fairly localized.  Mom was in great spirits and took the long day in stride, meeting new people and as the "chemo rookie," getting some good advice!

She came home and began walking on the treadmill, as she'd learned exercise helped fight fatigue.  All in a day's work, right?