The last two days have been a whirlwind, and not in a good way.
Many of you who read my blog speak with my mother regularly, and you know that as of last Friday, she was making plans for the future
What would she do for her 50th anniversary with dad? Should she take a cruise along the Mississippi once her chemo was done? And, how about those theater tickets? Let’s get some!
And in what seemed like an instant – a few hours, when you think about it – she became couch bound – then bed bound. It had been 2 days since she had an appetite so she refused all food. She drank water, hoping it would keep her hydrated. She was going into a chemo slump again.
I’m going to admit something I am not proud of. I couldn’t handle it this time. I had a work retreat scheduled for Monday, so I took the train to NJ to see my folks on Saturday. I knew things weren’t good when I offered to get my own ride to their house from Metropark, and dad accepted. He didn’t want to leave mom alone. The next morning I ran off to get a manicure with my friend Dana. I wasn’t gone long, but came back to help dad with mom. Then I said I’d be gone for an hour or two again – some retail therapy. It was too hard to see mom like this.
Dad called me about 4pm, and said that he needed me to come back and help him bring mom to the toilet. Then he wanted me to go pick up a portable commode to keep by the bed.
I stopped at home (their home) and Dad & I proceeded to carry mom into the bathroom, which was about 10 feet away. She didn’t want to go. We insisted.
And then she went limp. She had no control of her limbs. She passed out and I saw the whites of her eyes. She was breathing heavily. I thought she was having a panic attack, so I kept telling her to “breathe deeply and relax.” I didn’t realize she wasn’t conscious.
Dad and I dragged her back into the bedroom, and we proceeded to lay her down on the floor, next to the bed. Her left leg was bent behind her, so I pulled her down a bit so she wouldn’t break her legs that were like limp jelly in that moment.
I said to dad, “We need to get her to the hospital” and I dialed 911. I explained the situation and within a few minutes, the police were at our door. And soon, there were medics. She came to when the medics were there. Thank goodness. They took her vitals, put her on a seated stretcher, and carried her down the stairs to the ambulance. Dad went with them – I followed in the car.
She was immediately admitted and since then, has been barely coherent.
She has extremely low white blood cells, elevated kidney count, and may have a reoccurrence of Cdiff.
I thought she was stable enough to leave for my work retreat so I went to Jersey City, but when I spoke with dad, he wanted me to come back to support him. I took a Lyft from Jersey City to Red Bank (yikes!) and went right to the hospital. I spoke with mom a little, but she couldn’t really respond. I cried. Then we spoke with the doctor, who thinks this is mostly chemo related, and with luck, she will come through it.
So now we wait. Dad and I are now back home. He’s watching PBS; I’m writing for catharsis. My entire body is numb, sore, and clearly reacting to stress in a physical way. I’ve been texting Ted and my therapist and mom’s friends.
All I want is for mom to come back to us. Mom, if you can hear me, please come back to us. We have a 50th anniversary to celebrate, a cruise to plan, and tickets to buy.