Today is October 21, 2021, and today my mom finished her last of 12 rounds of intense chemotherapy. I can't tell you how good it feels to write that. We've all cried today more than we've cried in the last several months, and even though there's still a "Now what?" element in the air, today marked the end of this part of a brutal cancer journey.
I've not updated the blog in a few months because, frankly, I've been exhausted. Not to make this about me, by any means, but no one really talks about the emotional and mental toll that caretaking can have on the caretaker. I'm drained, I'm tired, and I'm worn out. But I wouldn't want it to be any other way, and I am honored to be able to fight alongside my mom during the battle of her life.
Helping her through her diagnosis has provided the two of us with precious Mom/Daughter time, as well as a lot of laughs. I am in awe of her bravery, tenacity, and most of all her ability to rise to the occasion and take on her cancer diagnosis with grace and dignity.
Today we walked into Hillman Cancer Center for the last chemo treatment, and it was such a bizarre feeling, sprinkled with more relief than she's felt in months. She completed 12 of 12 treatments of FOLFOX chemo. And wow, it killed my dad, kids, and me to watch it kick her ass. She had horrible side effects, yet barely complained.
On a daily basis for the last 5 months, she has suffered with nausea, weight loss, diarrhea, exhaustion, no appetite, neuropathy, weakness, trembling, terrible numbness in her fingers, as well as from her toes to knees, unsteadiness on her feet, dizziness, headaches, achiness.
She had a round of treatment every two weeks, and her quality of life was nil for 12 of the days between treatments. The two good days she would get between each treatment, however, she made the most of every moment, and she was out and about with my dad or her friends or family doing things that made her happy. I was amazed at her determination to make the best of every moment.
There was also a handful of not-so-great things to deal with during her 5 months of treatment. Most upsetting is that she and my dad had to put their beautiful Shih-Tzu, Zoe, to sleep. I'm still a little pissed off at the universe for that one, because Zoe was their pride and joy, brought so much love to their home, and she was attached at the hip to my mom, especially on treatment days. So here's a big F-U to the universe on that one.
At the end of chemo today, it was finally Mom's turn to "ring the bell," signifying that she completed her treatment. I was sure to capture it, so grab some tissues. It's really sweet. Kudos to the nursing staff for making the moment so special.
We headed home, and played "Last Dance" by Donna Summer, just as we had done after every other treatment, and we sang as loudly as we could and danced as well as we could in a car. Once we got home, Dad and the kids were there, and we celebrated this milestone as a family. We all wore t-shirts that say, "In this family, no one fights alone" with the blue ribbon that signifies colon cancer. I'm thankful my parents taught me that there's nothing more important than family.
WHAT'S NEXT: Mom has a slew of appointments coming up over the next several weeks...First up is a CT scan to see where the cancer might still be hiding. The scan can't find anything larger than a centimeter, so they will do then do exploratory surgery to (hopefully) find smaller deposits that the scan might not show.
Although there is no cure for Stage 4 colon cancer, the FOLFOX has hopefully slowed the growth of any cancer it was unable to destroy. The goal of chemo at this stage is to prolong life. Please keep praying that it did its job. 🧡
Lastly, thank you to all of you who call, text, email, and spend time with my mom. The outpouring of love, prayers, and support from you is what's keeping her going.
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