My Heart (and the one who gave it to me) is in the Hospital . . . Again
Mike and Mom are both in the hospital again. One visit was planned and one visit was another emergency situation. They’re both doing well as I type this and things are still on target for our future plans. Plus, this visit gave us a bit of early good news, despite the stressful and traumatic way it came about.
Mom’s Treatment Update
Mom was admitted yesterday for her planned inpatient second round of chemotherapy. It began this afternoon. She’s doing well overall. She’s had some typical nausea, taste changes, mouth sores, and skin rashes that are all normal, but unpleasant side effects from the chemotherapy. Thankfully, medications have worked to resolve the most uncomfortable ones, except for one . . . the hair loss.
Mom’s now sporting some awesome and sassy turbans. If you know my mom, you won’t be surprised to know that all of her head coverings are blingy, matchy, and downright beautiful on her newly bald head. Losing her hair was quite hard on Mom and she naturally mourned the loss, but she did it with courage and tenacity like she does everything else in life. While most of us were in church services worshipping, my mom spent her Sunday on her back deck playing and singing praise music, brushing out her falling hairs, and literally surrendering her hair to the Lord. She symbolically held the fistfuls of hair up to the Lord and said “these are yours, Lord, take them and use me.” Y’all. No. Words.
My mom is a superhero. Despite the challenges she’s faced the last two years, she has become an even stronger, fierce woman than ever before. Losing my dad to Alzheimer’s was a journey she never wanted to face. It was actually one of her biggest fears in life to lose her spouse that way, but she faced it, stepped into the role of caregiver with beauty and grace, and loved my dad well and deeply right to the very end. So, when cancer came knocking at her door, she naturally has punched it in the face and said without words — you’re not welcome here . . . get out. I said it in an earlier update, but I want to be her when I grow up.
Mike Thoroughly Scared Us Tuesday Morning
If you’re keeping up with our updates, you’ll remember that Mike has orthostatic hypotension. His blood pressure drops significantly upon standing and he nearly faints quite often. He’s on medication for it, and it helps some, but it’s intended for daytime/waking hours use. (That point is critical in the next part of the story.)
Mike has a recurring intestinal infection that started rearing its ugly head on Monday. Early yesterday morning, I awoke to my mom telling me Mike was in the bathroom and needed me. I ran to the bathroom to find him passed out—breathing still—but passed out. He had tried to call for me, but he was too weak to yell loud enough for me to hear and Mom’s room was right next door to the bathroom. I yelled to Mom to call 911. He didn’t fall and hurt anything and I was able to rouse him awake. Once awake, he could tell me his name and all the major facts, but he couldn’t remain upright without starting to faint again, so I got him to lie on the bathroom floor until the ambulance came. He earned his first (and hopefully last!) ambulance ride to the hospital Tuesday morning.
He’s doing much better now after lots of fluids and antibiotics. While he was in the ER, they did a full CT scan of his chest, abdomen, and pelvis. That scan showed decreased sizes of all metastases!!!!! Go back and read that again, because I had to! DEcreased!!! You guys, we haven’t seen the prefix DE- in so many months, I had forgotten how to even read that word! The CT Scan report stated it this way: “Decreased size of hepatic, splenic, pancreatic, right adrenal and retroperitoneal masses indicates response to therapy. Stable.” So, that means that even though he was unable to finish his round (he got 4 of 5 days), he had excellent response to this last treatment (that’s the word his local oncologist used with joy and hope!).
Mike will probably be discharged tomorrow unless something new arises that we’re currently unaware of. I would love to take more time to tell you all the spiritual things that went through my mind and heart over the last two days, but I’m so, so tired. When people ask me how I am right now, the only word I have the energy to respond with is tired. It’s the forefront condition of my life right now. I’m trying to rest, but there’s often not enough time for rest. And people keep telling me to take care of myself. I’m also really trying to do that. I’m trying to carve out moments of rest, but things keep happening (like 911 calls at 2 am!) to interrupt those plans. So, I guess I’m asking you guys to pray for supernatural multiplication of the miniscule moments of rest I do get.
