Best 9 Hours I've Spent All Week
Driving down here was necessary, the minute I walked into my cousin's hospital room, I knew it was absolutely the best thing for me to drive down here to West Virginia (actually, Marietta, OH) from NJ.
My cousin's mother and my mother were sisters, Jan and I are as close as sisters. We've always had a very special bond, she's 8 years older than I, and I've looked up to her my entire life. In some ways I've felt closer to her than anyone in my family.
She's hit a very rough spot right now. Her breast cancer has recurred and metasticized in her spine in a few places and in her thigh bone. Other things are popping up, too, and they restarted her on chemo today after a week of radiation. She's entirely immobile because a month ago her thigh bone shattered at the point where the tumor was hiding, so she had surgery to place a rod up her leg bone.
I arrived here at 4:00 and went right to her room until 8:00 pm. I finally left because I knew she was forcing herself to stay awake because I was visiting. As I was sitting next to her bed, rubbing her sore leg, patting her hand, I had such a strong sense of deja vu. Wasn't it just a few years ago I was doing this with my mom? With Gerry last year?
I stopped on the way back to my hotel and got 2 beers. I just drank one, I feel better, the other will just have to be put away until another day.
I guess I picked the wrong week to give up eating like an idiot.
(I could really go for a few reeses peanut butter cups or some Americone Dream Ice cream right about now...)
In some odd twist of fate, my own kids were the first born into our family since I was a baby. A 35-year dry spell of babies.
Jan, her brother, Tommy and my brother Jim were childless (until my brother and his wife adopted their son from Russia) Since so few kids have been born, there are very few folks left in the family. At this point it's pretty much me, Jan, Tommy's wife, Joyce and Jim's wife, Karen.
It's so weird, so odd, to be Jan's last, close blood relative. Joyce has been amazing - she was at the hospital when I arrived and has been there several times a week. Joyce is feeling - and with reason - that this whole last sickness of Jan's is pretty much entirely on her shoulders.
I'm glad to be here to relieve a bit of the pressure, I wish I could do more, but the best I can do is be HERE when I'm able. No one is at their best during chemo. Jan's flat on her back, in pain, but she was so happy when I walked into the room that it would have been worth 90 hours of driving.
There are a lot of decisions that need to be made (some of them unpleasant and potentially a cause for friction) As I told Joyce, if I do what I MUST do as a sister-cousin, all signs point to tomorrow being a rather rough day.
But if I take the easy way out and avoid the rough subjects, it will make things a lot harder down the road. How on earth did I end up being the last "adult" standing?
Thanks so much to folks who have written with good thoughts and offers of help. If I don't get back to you right away, please know it has a lot to do with erratic internet and not a lot of time for emailing.
And now off to write a bit about sweater shaping. Focus, Annie, focus!
My cousin's mother and my mother were sisters, Jan and I are as close as sisters. We've always had a very special bond, she's 8 years older than I, and I've looked up to her my entire life. In some ways I've felt closer to her than anyone in my family.
She's hit a very rough spot right now. Her breast cancer has recurred and metasticized in her spine in a few places and in her thigh bone. Other things are popping up, too, and they restarted her on chemo today after a week of radiation. She's entirely immobile because a month ago her thigh bone shattered at the point where the tumor was hiding, so she had surgery to place a rod up her leg bone.
I arrived here at 4:00 and went right to her room until 8:00 pm. I finally left because I knew she was forcing herself to stay awake because I was visiting. As I was sitting next to her bed, rubbing her sore leg, patting her hand, I had such a strong sense of deja vu. Wasn't it just a few years ago I was doing this with my mom? With Gerry last year?
I stopped on the way back to my hotel and got 2 beers. I just drank one, I feel better, the other will just have to be put away until another day.
I guess I picked the wrong week to give up eating like an idiot.
(I could really go for a few reeses peanut butter cups or some Americone Dream Ice cream right about now...)In some odd twist of fate, my own kids were the first born into our family since I was a baby. A 35-year dry spell of babies.
Jan, her brother, Tommy and my brother Jim were childless (until my brother and his wife adopted their son from Russia) Since so few kids have been born, there are very few folks left in the family. At this point it's pretty much me, Jan, Tommy's wife, Joyce and Jim's wife, Karen.
It's so weird, so odd, to be Jan's last, close blood relative. Joyce has been amazing - she was at the hospital when I arrived and has been there several times a week. Joyce is feeling - and with reason - that this whole last sickness of Jan's is pretty much entirely on her shoulders.
I'm glad to be here to relieve a bit of the pressure, I wish I could do more, but the best I can do is be HERE when I'm able. No one is at their best during chemo. Jan's flat on her back, in pain, but she was so happy when I walked into the room that it would have been worth 90 hours of driving.
There are a lot of decisions that need to be made (some of them unpleasant and potentially a cause for friction) As I told Joyce, if I do what I MUST do as a sister-cousin, all signs point to tomorrow being a rather rough day.
But if I take the easy way out and avoid the rough subjects, it will make things a lot harder down the road. How on earth did I end up being the last "adult" standing?
Thanks so much to folks who have written with good thoughts and offers of help. If I don't get back to you right away, please know it has a lot to do with erratic internet and not a lot of time for emailing.
And now off to write a bit about sweater shaping. Focus, Annie, focus!
Feed me, baby!
11 Comments:
Annie,
I hope tomorrow isn't too hard of a day, but I know there are things that have to be done, as unpleasant as they are. I'm glad that you are able to be there for her. Take care and I'll be sending good thoughts your way.
I'm a lurker on your blog here but do love your patterns (and have some of them).
But I wanted to thank you for reminding us all about family (I need to take some lessons myself) and compassion in hospital settings. Sometimes we should stop fussing with /second- guessing the doctors and just try and support the patient who does NOT want to be in the hospital. TLC from family members goes a VERY long way in just getting through everything, and provides immeasurable comfort.
You poor thing! It has been one thing after another hasn't it.
I sympathise with your predicament. You need to be about half a dozen people at the same time- I know the feeling.
We had a family crisis about two months ago and I often wondered how I would react in such situation, how I would juggle work, designing, family etc. It was no contest. work went out the window (thankfully they are very understanding and have supported me throughout this)The designing got done around the family stuff, but FAMILY CAME FIRST no question.
I hope things start to improve for you - I know life isn't fair, but you have had more than you fair share of woes recently - hugs :)
Being the adult is sometimes the hardest job on the earth, Annie. You get to ask the tough, unasked, questions and force people to turn on the lights and look at things as they are. But preparedness, knowing some decisions have been made about what to do when or if, can also take a lot of strain off the ill and those who care for them.
Please know my thoughts and concern are with you. And, Annie, please remember to take good care of yourself, ok?
From one adult to another, I hope tomorrow (today?) goes as well as it can. I'm glad you've got that beer.
being an adult sucks. here's a {hug} for what it's worth and know that i'm sending whatever good karma/thoughts/etc I can to both you and Jan and your entire family.
Sorry that you are having such a rough time. Given similar circumstances, I don't know if I would have your faith and strength.
Hey Annie --
Many hugs. At some point, a glass of whiskey might be in order, since you're in WV-land. (Ask me why I give this advice...)
Roz
Having that very hard conversation will probably be a huge relief, once you get past the beginning. Your cousin needs you to have it with her. I'm thinking of you. I've been there...
As you very much already know, cancer sucks. My thoughts & prayers are with you, Jan, and the entire family (no matter how many or how few).
My thoughts are with you at this time - I wish there were something to do to help ease your burden. I know that feeling of rightness - you know what you have to do &, when you do it, it's like your whole body sighs "Yes." By my reckoning, your sister-cousin must still be in her 50's - way to young to be in extremis. That makes it so much harder. My closest in age sister died after a brief illness a little less than 2 years ago. Even with her husband, 2 children, another sister, a brother, my children, son in law, grandchildren, SO, & several nieces & nephews, it was incredibly paingul. I cannot imagine it with such a small family. We are all there in spirit for you.
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