Turbo Cancer: Day 160 - November 18, 2022
Three More Days
On this day, last year, I wrote:
We got to stay home again today. With radiation starting Monday, we are postponing the chemo. Doing both would be too much.
Penny came over for a visit. Now, my mom is sleeping.
She is excited that her children and her grandchildren will be here for Thanksgiving. Margaret and her fiancé will arrive on Wednesday. James and his girlfriend will be here on Thursday. My brother and my dad are cooking the turkey, and the kids are bringing side dishes and dessert. It will be a very special day.
We don’t always know when we are spending the last special day with someone we love.
I did know that Thanksgiving 2022 was the last Thanksgiving that we would be spending with my mom.
My mom knew that, too.
My mom was clinging to her vision of the perfect Thanksgiving.
We were just three days from the first radiation treatment. If it worked, it would shrink the tumors. If it worked, it would reduce the pain. If it worked, it would give my mom the ability to enjoy living during the last days of her life.
She could imagine a pain-free holiday. With three days of radiation completed, she would be able to walk down the stairs on Thursday. She would be able to enjoy spending time with her children and grandchildren.
But, it was beginning to seem as if there might be another problem.
My mom still had a lymphatic drain which had been surgically inserted through her thigh and into her groin. It was still collecting fluid.
My mom had begun complaining about discomfort around the tube. She said that it felt as if it had been there for far too long. She said that she hoped the doctor would remove it soon.
As I was helping clean the drain and change the bandages, I noticed that the skin around the tube was red and swollen.
The area around my mom’s first drain had become inflamed and uncomfortable, and it had had to be removed. It looked as if her body was rejecting this new drain, as well.
I left a message for Doctor S. I asked if he could fit my mom into his schedule on Monday. I hoped that the radiation would live up to its promise of miraculous pain relief. I hoped that my mom would feel up to visiting the surgeon, once her first radiation treatment was complete.
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Hoped, prayed that it would do some good.