Sunday, February 12, 2006

The Big X, Part III: Interlude

There’s a blizzard outside and I’m drinking blackberry martinis. Ah, the benefits of being a bartender. Anyhow, I find myself trapped at home for at least the next 18 hours so it’s now or never to finish the tale of the Big X. This is the part I’ve been dreading reliving…

Last Fall, my mother was diagnosed with Gall Bladder Cancer. It’s very rare, so rare in fact that there are no known treatments once it has spread. If you catch it early, you might remove the gall bladder and be successful in preventing the spread. Mom’s was not caught early.

There was a month of doctor visits—the oncologist sent us to the surgeon; the surgeon sent Mom for lots of tests; if she passed, she could have a risky procedure that might increase her survival chances from 30% to maybe 70%; the surgeon had us come see him again. The test results were bad. The cancer had spread farther than they thought, too far to operate. Would chemotherapy or radiation work? No. All it would do was make her uncomfortable in the last part of her life. The best to do would be to enjoy what time there was left. How much time was left? Hard to say. A year maybe.

The oncologist argued for chemotherapy and radiation. Though there are no studies that this can be successful, that is because there are no studies on Gall Bladder Cancer because it is so rare. The oncologist had a feeling. She had read some anecdotal evidence that a certain couple of chemotherapies might work. Mom decided to try.

She was still weak from the initial surgery that had removed her gall bladder (due to gallstones) and caused the discovery of the cancer. She was tired and confused and trying to be hopeful but really was lost. We all were, my whole family.

My father was useless. Mom is the love of his life and he just couldn’t deal with all this. He cried a lot. Stacy, my younger sister, was the same. Mom is Stacy’s best friend. Mom helps Stacy live her life. I don’t know how Stacy will get through any major or minor crisis when Mom is no longer here. Stacy and Dad cried a lot together.

This left my youngest sister, Kristy, and me. I am the oldest. I appear to be the strongest. In that manner, if in no other, I take after my mother very much. I took charge of the family because no one else would or could. I told Kristy that I needed her to be strong with me because I couldn’t do this alone. Of the other members of the family, I knew she was the most capable. So I cursed her with having to “be strong.” I know this is a curse. Anyone who has had to be the strong one knows that. I’m so sorry, Kristy. And at the same time, I thank you more than you can ever know.

So this was the situation I was thrown into, or perhaps that I threw myself into. I became the de facto head of this broken family. I cared for my mother; I advised her on what to do; I became her confidant and heard all her thoughts and feelings about what she was going through. I became my father’s and Stacy’s confidant; I heard all their thoughts and feelings about what Mom was going through and how it was affecting their lives. I leaned a bit on Kristy and she leaned a bit on me. But we both stood strong, or at least as strong as we could.

I ran the household. I put my name on all my mother’s accounts. I helped her create a living will. I took her to arrange her cremation and signed my name to the documents and when she dies, I will pick up her jewelry and her ashes from the crematory. I will write her obituary. I took her to visit her brother in Florida one last time while she was still up to traveling. I made Thanksgiving and Christmas. I did everything.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I was coping with the fact that I was losing my own mother. The two saddest things to me were that she may not see me married and that she would not be there to help me raise my own children. I cried when I was alone in my car driving to or from work. Otherwise, I didn’t dwell.

This is where I was, what I was doing with my life when the end of things with the Big X occurred. More in a bit.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Wow, thats heartfelt, i can imagine your pain.

How long ago was this?

I'm guessing he didnt understand, and it was all about him right....

Tina said...

This was last fall into last winter. To simplify, yeah. It was all about him.

Got 2 hrs sleep and must write a 3 pg paper today so the rest tonight, I'm guessing. (After a long nap.)

Anonymous said...

See, im good huh

so you have only been without him 6 months or so.

Ok, whats the paper on?

Tina said...

Nope, this all happened fall of 2004 into winter. We split up one year ago this past January.

Paper's on obesity in America's youth and what policy the govt should adapt to fix it.