My Daughter, Myself…
There’s a quote I think from the Twilight Zone movie (or maybe the series) along the lines of…What’s the scariest thing that’s ever happened to you? And then the movie or the episode tries to outdo that scariest thing in your mind by scaring you to death. I’ve been through a lot of scary things in the last few months, but none prepared me for the scare with one of my daughters… You are traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound …a dimension of mind…But first, about my third chemo therapy treatment…How much scarier can they get? I had it last Tuesday. I tried to explain to the doctor how I felt following the previous treatment. Doctors need actual descriptive words and phrases beyond I felt sick all over…I was sick in my head, sick in my stomach, nothing tasted right…So, the doctor decided that since the only thing we’d done differently between the first and the second treatments was the Neulasta shot following the second treatment that we would not do that again. Maybe the side effects of that enhanced the red poison side effects to do me in. He did say that I could come for hydration treatments the next two days and then the third day if I wanted to. So, everything got scheduled, and I went for the chemo treatment. Oh, who accompanied me this time?…My son, John. He was an excellent escort. He was just the right amount of low humor, very few questions, and not talking too much, but just the right amount. When he found out how easy it was, he offered to cover me for all the rest of the treatments. He was very patient afterward, turning in my prescriptions, picking up lunch, and going back to pick up the prescriptions. So, the next day I went to work; and then Joe went with me for the hydration treatment. I started to feel a little of that indescribable sick feeling, but we went and had dinner following the treatment. The next day, I went to work, felt a little more queasy, and Joe and I went for the hydration treatment. I slept through the treatment, and then I slept around the clock after we got home. The next day, it didn’t feel right to go to work…too queasy, too tired. That day I asked Joe to drive me to the Institute; I was really not feeling well. I slept around the clock again. On Saturday, the fourth day following the treatment, I slept some more. Sunday, with effort I made it to church because Jay and Shelly and the kids and Kathi and Krista were all going to be there. I barely made it through the hour. I had to have a chocolate milkshake on the way home though, and that helped. Sunday, I slept some more. One thing I hope to remember to tell the doctor next time is that throughout all of those days, I found it difficult to talk…not to think of the words or to say the words, but…to find the energy to do so. It just required too much of me to answer a question, talk on the phone, or have a conversation at all. For those of you who know me…you know that’s serious. Dottie, unable to express an opinion, give advise, or tell a story…that’s completely out of line…I hope my doctor will have some really great ideas for helping me through my next and final red poison treatment, because, honestly, this cure could kill ya….Back to the beginning of this post…About the scariest thing and my daughter, Susan. She is not only my daughter, but my best friend. Even before the cancer, we talked almost daily on the phone. We were working the same hours and on the road at the same time in the morning and after work, so we would catch up. Since the cancer, there’s barely been a day that we haven’t talked. She has been the biggest nudge about everything. She insisted I give up Sweet ‘N Low, even coming over and throwing it in the trash. She said I can’t use Cover Girl makeup any more or regular deodorant that doesn’t have a breast cancer symbol on it, or any of those glorious lotions from
What a great son you have, boys are good like that with their Mom. I can not even think of anything more scary I am speechless & like you, this doesn’t happen often!!! My prayers are always with you & now your daughter too, please keep us posted.
Elliott shared an interesting piece of blog trivia with me. Apparently in most blogs the first comment is always “first”. That is it, its a person’s way of claiming their rightful post as first. I thought of just writing “second” but that just doesn’t have the same impact.
Scariest moments:
Once in an enclosed space as part of an exercise on a school trip to Catalina Island, didn’t think I would be able to get out, still don’t light enclosed spaces to this day.
The day I had messages from Krista, Susan and Elliott about the mom and breast cancer news, I was very scared as to why the multiple calls, I know this has been bad but fortunatley we are all still together as a family.
Other scary moments… None too scary so far. Elliott and I joke a lot about the saying: do one thing every day that scares you, but that’s more like trying a new kind of sushi. Not Dr. Appt scary.
Thanks for sharing the Susan story. I am so glad so far it looks like nothing.
I don’t think there’s anything scarier than thinking that something or someone may harm our children. We, as parents, hope to protect our kids from everything. After I was diagnosed, my 3 sisters all said, “Thanks, Bonnie, for taking the fall on this one.” But I’ve told them to still be diligent in their mammograms. I, too, spent my life doing everything you are supposed to do to keep from getting cancer: eat the right foods, exercise, don’t use antipersperant (only deoderant), nursed my babies, etc. Got it anyway. No cancer anywhere in the family. My grandmother died last year, just 15 days shy of her 111th birthday, at home. She has 67 descendents, ALL living, except for one of her oldest boys, who died at 88! No major illnesses anywhere. I did take prempro for 8 years though, at my OBGYN’s request, and from all of the research out there, I’m sure that at least fed an otherwise starved cancer. But we can only do the best we can do – and get mammograms for early detection. I hope everything is okay with your daughter, and that you’re feeling better.
Thanks, Bonnie. As I mentioned in my most recent post, Susan is O.K. for now…she will get checked every six months. I totally understand what you’re saying. My grandmother lived to be 100, and my mother died of advanced Alzheimer’s short of her 78th birthday…no sign of cancer in the family. Krista’s friend, who is a doctor, told her that what I had is not genetic.. not to be passed down to my daughters…that it was some mutated cells that got carried away…I hate the word mutated; it sounds like an alien invasion or something. I know Krista told this to her sisters, and I think in a way her friend did her and her sisters a dis-service by giving them a false sense of…we don’t have to worry…mom had mutated cells…My surgeon (and I know Krista was there to hear it) said that my daughters now have as much as a four times greater chance of getting breast cancer now that their mother was diagnosed with it. Actually, that’s a question that was asked of Susan (any breast cancer in the family?)…so I think it makes a difference. I hope that my story and yours and so many others can make a difference in convincing women to just get the regular mammograms… in the scheme of things, how scary is it to have a couple of pictures taken of your breasts? It sure beats biopsies, lumpectomies, and mastectomies. Your story continues to give me hope that there is life after breast cancer.