On this day, last year, I wrote:
We had another difficult day. My mom’s pain is increasing. We had hoped that the radiation would help, but it has been postponed, due to the infection.
The doctors are waiting for the culture to come back. They need to know what type of bacteria they are treating. They have increased the pain meds. The oncologist says that they are hoping to send my mom home on Thursday.
Before visiting hours began, when I could not be there, Doctor T, the oncologist, had been to see my mom. My mom said that she looked horrified when she heard that my mom hadn’t been given any pain medication.
Doctor T, looking shocked, had said: “Disrupting your narcotic schedule could have killed you.”
She went to the computer and approved the dispensation of all of my mom’s prescriptions. Because my mom’s opioid schedule had been disrupted, Doctor T increased Oxycontin and Oxycodone doses. She also added another drug into the mix. My mom was to be given Dilaudid intravenously, to help with breakthrough pain.
The first time I took my mom to the hospital, she was told that she definitely did not have a rare form of late stage aggressive cancer with the potential to break bones. She was told to go home and take Motrin.
The second time I took my mom to the hospital, her lung was punctured during a routine procedure. She spent days recovering in the ICU.
The third time I took my mom to the hospital, it was due to congestive heart failure. I believe the heart failure was a side effect of the chemotherapy. Nothing else makes sense.
The fourth time I took my mom to the hospital, she was forced to endure the agony of twelve hours without the prescription medications on which she had been made dependent.
I can’t help but wonder if my mom’s medication had been withheld in order to justify a sudden increase in narcotics. As Doctor T had said, a break in the schedule could have killed my mom. However, considering that she survived the night, the doctor was forced to increase her doses and to add more medication to her already long list of prescription pills.
As the months had gone by, Doctor T had prescribed bigger and bigger doses of Oxy. Now she had added Dilaudid. I wonder what the makers of Oxy and Dilaudid might have done for Doctor T?
In the search of pain relief, my mom had been to dozens of doctors. She had been the recipient of a barrage of drugs, tests and treatments. None of it had worked.
Her last hope was radiation.
We had imagined that a plus side of being in the hospital would be the convenience of the radiation treatment. It had become incredibly difficult to get my mom from her house to all of her appointments. The oncology radiation office was housed in the same hospital as the one where my mom was staying. Since she was already there, we imagined that she could be transported from her room to the treatment room, without ever having to get out of bed. This would have been a blessing.
Unfortunately, on the morning of this day, my mom was told that her treatment would have to be put on hold. She was told that the antibiotics needed to fight the infection, before the palliative radiation could begin. She was told that radiation would be scheduled for after she returned to her home. She was told that, with it being the holiday week, she could expect to begin her radiation treatments on the Monday after Thanksgiving.
She was told that she could expect to be feeling much better by Christmas.
My mom had been imagining walking down the stairs on Thanksgiving Day. That vision was shattered.
When I got to the hospital, my mom was depressed. She said she wasn’t looking forward to Thanksgiving anymore. Even if she was back home for the holiday, she would be in bed. She wondered if the grandkids should come at all.
I said that they were coming because they wanted to see her, even if she was in bed. I said being around her made people feel loved.
My mom had always been interested in others. When people spoke to her, she listened. She looked them in the eye. They told stories of their lives, and she remembered what they had said. My mom paid attention.
My mom was intelligent, quick witted, loyal and kind. She had a way of making people feel seen and important.
She genuinely cared.
People liked to be around her.
My mom’s mind had been slowed by the drugs. Her body was wasting away. She was filled with cancer, fluid, inflammation and infection. In spite of all of that, people liked to be around her.
There was something about her smile.
I convinced my mom not to cancel. In the end, she agreed that the kids should still come. Whether we would sitting around the dinner table or watching TV from her bed, all of us wanted to spend the holiday with her.
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It sure shows that your son loved his Grandma so much! I am in tears at what your momma had to suffer. Hugs and rich blessings upon you and your family! 😘😢
I cry every day when I read this. I’m so disgusted with anything healthcare related