The fire may be winding down, but there are still some good hot embers

I know everyone is worried about our dear, lovely Rita. She has been very weak. "I just feel so energy-less," she just said to me.

At the same time, she still has that spark of humor that has made her so beloved by us all. When the nurses asked her what she wanted for dinner, she said, "Bud Light."

I didn't even know she liked Bud Light.

Since the level of care being given to her has changed, just today at about noon, they moved her to a different type of room, still on the same floor, but, oh, SO much more comfortable for us.

The previous room was a single hospital room with a lovely big window looking west over Spokane. So it was definitely nice. But it was very crowded. When Peg, Bill and I were all there, two of us had to cram up against the window while one stood at the foot of the bed or on a chair on the other side. And the chairs were wood with no padding.

I didn't really pay that much attention to the situation; it wasn't that important. But now we're in a room meant to include family. There are two soft recliner-like chairs that evidently convert into sleeping surfaces, there's a small table with two chairs for eating at, and a small refrigerator and microwave. Now that the surroundings are so much more comfortable, I am realizing why we were each getting pretty tired as we took a turn at staying with Mom.

It has been a LONG two weeks.

Especially for her.

But even after all this, my brave, wonderful mother has a weak smile for us when we come in the door and manages to make the nurses laugh.

Don't tell anyone, but we're smuggling in some beer a little later. :-)

Final wishes

Yesterday evening, Mom was alert, chipper, and feeling very well. Peg and Bill were able to enjoy a nice evening visit (I was still in Pullman), and her doctor was talking about a release date.

Overnight, her condition changed dramatically.

This morning, when the pulmonary therapist came in to administer a treatment, she heard a lot of "crackling" in Mom's lungs, which is a sign of fluid build up. So the "Rapid Response" team was called in to get Mom stabilized. The members of this team are exceptionally skilled in their areas of expertise. Their efforts were successful.

Peg was called, of course, and she called me. She and Bill, who has been staying here in Spokane ever since last weekend, came to the hospital, and I drove up from Pullman. All four of us conferred as a group. Mom has been saying to many of us over these past two weeks that she is ready to die. She has said this so often, and to so many of us at various points, that we, her children, pursued with her a serious, end-of-life wishes conversation. Although she has been very weak all day, she has been alert and clear-headed, so we felt confident about having this discussion today.

We very carefully and thoroughly discussed what exactly Mom wanted to do at this point. We identified the options for her. These options roughly fall into categories of
• "do not resuscitate if pulse and/or breathing stop";
• do everything medically possible
• do some things but not others (do antibiotics but no artificial feeding, for example)
• do only what will keep her comfortable

After about two hours of talking among ourselves (Bill, Peg, Mom and me), going through the hospital's forms, and getting clarifications from the various medical specialists, Mom has decided to accept only comfort-level treatment and there is a "do not resuscitate" order if her pulse/breathing stops.

Over the course of the afternoon, several specialists who have been involved with her care have come in to talk with her and us. She has confirmed this decision with all of them.

She will continue to accept IV infusions that keep the fluid levels in balance, and she is accepting the pulmonary therapy, a broncho-dialator. She will accept IV antibiotics to address an infection. But that's it. No new medicines, no new treatments, no aggressive measures.

There is a wonderful hospice program in Spokane with a just-recently-built 12-bed facility, Hospice House. She has been accepted to be taken there when a bed becomes available. That will probably be Monday or so.

Peg was particularly comforted to know that a former colleague--a nurse whom Peg admires, respects enormously--is the director of nursing for this hospice organization. Mom could not be going into better hands.

It is very sad news, I know, for all of us who love her so much that we will soon be saying goodbye to this wonderful, wonderful woman. Peg, Bill and I are so grateful to have been graced by such a mother. She has truly taught us what love is. As one expression of our gratitude for her love and motherly care, we want to support her desire, which she has made clear to us many, many times over the years, for a dignified death, not a protracted feeble helplessness. Sad as I, my brother and my sister are right now, we know this is what she wants for herself.

Thank you to everyone for your thoughts and prayers.

Finally some good news! Another update from Bill

Both Peggy and I were in Mom's hospital room yesterday when the cardiologist visited to tell her some good news.

The cardiologist had been called in to help a couple of days ago because Mom had been retaining fluids that had moved into her lungs and had put stress on her heart.

The medical staff has been taking aggressive action to get excess fluids out. Over the last few days, Rita has excreted over 7 pounds--that's more than about a gallon, folks!-of excess fluids.

Rita is getting back into "fighting shape" as a result. Her chest x-rays look clearer, her oxygen levels are greatly improved and near normal, and her blood counts (hemocrete and hemoglobin) are also greatly improved.

The cardiologist actually told Rita he was signing off the lead role he had assumed when the fluid build-up was taxing her heart so much.


Her primary oncology physician has said that Rita will stay in the hosptial through probably Tuesday and then be dismissed to a rehad faciltiy or other nursing location.

This one is from Bill

Sunday was Bloomsday. Over the last several years, I have looked forward to this event as a great time. I’ve also looked forward to it with a bit of anxiety, knowing that I would need to be in shape to try to stay up with my mother.

On Monday, we checked the race statistics. According to their records, Mom has done Bloomsday 27 times. She has walked with many family, friends, kids and grandkids, and she has made a lot more friends along the way.

Mom could have had more fun on most of the walks, but she did Bloomsday just like she has done her life-- not as a race, being concerned with where she placed, but more as a journey to connect with family and friends. To be part of a parade, not to be in front, but just to be with it.

On Sunday, she had visitors from her husband’s side of the family, the Williams family. I haven’t spent much time with Ron, Ingrid and their kids in the recent past, but I got to be there for some time while they visited Mom. They had many fun stories and memories of spending time with Mom and Jim at their Asotin home; it was great to hear about all those good times.

Grandma Rita and Grandpa Jim were legendary for their welcoming, kind treatment of kids and grandkids at their Asotin home. It was a tradition every summer to take the kids across the street to swim in the Snake River, to fish and to have picnics.

Grandma never let the fact that the "fish weren't biting" dampen a kid’s joy of bringing in the big one.

One such summer day when grandson Chris was disappointed at catching nothing as he, Mom and Jim fished in the river across from the house, Grandma Rita snuck back across the street to the house and pulled one of Jim’s fish from their freezer. While little Chris wasn't looking, she slipped it on his fishing line, threw it back in the water, and then yelled with joy, "fish on, fish on!"

Even a young kid knows that you don't pull fish from the Snake River frozen, gutted and all ready for the pan. But it was fun, and the memory of Mom’s kind joke still lives. Just like the Bloomsday race, it wasn't about the race or the finish, it was about the experience.

Hearing this fish tale recounted again with Rita in her hospital bed brought laughter from everyone in the room. And there was a gleam in mom's eye, knowing that she was able to impact us in those ways throughout her life.

From a medical standpoint, the last few days have been tough. Fluid has started to build up in her lungs, which is somewhat common during chemotherapy. Mom’s heart is not pumping as rhythmically as it should, while the demands on her heart are greater than normal for an 88-year person’s heart.

She remains in the hospital. Her blood statistics, which were the medical issue that first brought her in, are in decent shape. The priority now is to deal with the fluid build-up and retention.

She is noticeably weaker physically as she fights the fluid retention.

Her spirits are guarded. When family and friends join, she smiles and jokes with what energy she has, but she is easily tired. Her room is well decorated with cards, scrapbook pages, and mementoes and memories from family and friends. And she continues to harass and hassle family and friends with the glow and smiles she is famous for, even though the glow is dimmer and the smile is not quite as big.

Rita sends her thanks and love to all those who have reached out, and she gratefully accepts your faith and prayers as she walks a tough section of life’s "Bloomsday."

Two steps forward, one back.

The Bloomsday weekend has come and gone. This was one of the few Bloomsdays in the past 28 years that Mom has had to miss. But Bill and I carried her banner. Bill even managed to get a t-shirt for her. She’s hiding behind it in this photo.

Over the weekend, her son-in-law and daughter-in-law Ron and Ingrid Williams, along with her grandson Chris and his bride visited Mom. Surprisingly, they managed to get hotel rooms even though the town was full of Bloomsday participants and volunteers. They visited with Mom Saturday night and watched the live coverage of the race’s start and finish on Sunday.

Since Bill and I were not featured runners enjoying live television coverage, we kept Mom up-to-date on our progress on the Bloomsday route by calling Ron on his cell phone and having him relay the information to her. Her hearing isn’t working well enough nowadays to get on the regular telephone, much less those silly cellphones.

I must say, though, that this past week has converted me from cellphone-resistance to cellphone enthusiasm. I’m sure that Peg and Bill would agree that we all would have gone abso-freaking-lutely insane if we hadn’t been able to speak with one another at a moment’s notice.

Note: the following may fall into the category of too much information. If the details of medical treatment don’t sit well with you, you can skip this paragraph. About Mom’s physical condition: the weekend has her continuing to improve. Her blood count and blood oxygen levels have gradually gotten back to near normal, her temp frequently has gone below 100, and her infection has almost cleared up. She has been retaining water, though. The heart and the lungs have been working extra hard as a result. The diuretic they’ve administered really kicked in yesterday, though. She’s probably lucky that she’s on a catheter. The water retention has also included pulmonary edema, so they’re tweaking the treatment plan for that, too.

Although she has definitely improved since she was admitted, it has been a case of two steps forward, one step back.

Recently, since the fever has gone down so much, she hasn’t been delirious, but she has been very sleepy. I stayed with her for three hours Sunday afternoon; she was awake for only 10 minutes. I packed a lot of news into that little bit of time, let me tell you, before she told me that she wanted to go back to sleep. Bill has been staying with her at times over the weekend and then all yesterday and today. When he told her that he had to go back to Wenatchee and asked whether Peg or I should come back in and hang out with her, she said, “Please, no!” She’s really tired and just wants to be left alone to sleep.

She may not realize that we hang around as much for our own peace of mind as for her wellbeing. But I guess it’s time to stop hovering and let her be taken care of by her wonderful nurses, nursing assistants and docs. So thanks Evelyn, Patti, Sandy, Linda, Amanda, all the other nurses and aides whose names I can’t remember, and thanks Dr. Rosales. We're counting on you!

When Rita Smiles . . .

How happy I was this morning when I entered the hospital room and saw Mom smile!  She actually seemed somewhat cheerful!  It seems as if her personality is normalizing as her health gets better.  She sat up for both breakfast and lunch today, feeding herself well and eating better than I've seen so far.  That's not to say, though, that she is happy about this enfeebled state she's in.  

Mom has always been so engaged with people and her surroundings.  She seems unwilling to become old, a senior whose feeble physical condition and waning senses force her into observing more than participating in life's activities.  

I suppose I should celebrate Mom's rebelliousness against the inevitability of aging.  Dylan Thomas wrote his magnificent poem "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night" at his father's deathbed, begging him to do something other than sink peacefully into the eternal sleep.   He would be glad if he could see my mom.  

  

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height

Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray

Do not go gentle into that good night

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

  

 

Juiced up!

They pumped Mom full of stuff yesterday.  At one point, they had two IV pumps going at the same time.  She got antibiotics, two units of blood, and potassium.  Her face has filled back out; it was looking gaunt for a while. 

For those interested in her vitals: her temperature this afternoon at 4:00 is 100, blood oxygen is 91%, blood pressure 117/61.   Her white blood count this morning was .7, up from .3 yesterday.  The goal is 1.0.  So she's definitely not as sick as she was. 

Sometimes the better you feel, the harder it is to be sick.  I asked her if she was getting bored.  She said, "Yes."  We always said that Mom was not likely to be a happy camper as a patient, when and if she ever got really sick.  And that is indeed the way it has turned out.  Nurses generally make unwilling patients, though, don't they?

This morning when her doctor came around, she told him that she was mad at him for making her feel better.  He took it well.  I think he even was glad that she was getting sassy with him.  

Although she mainly just briefly asks and answers question, she is interacting more lucidly now that her vitals are starting to pick up again.   She's just still too weak for conversation.  

Sometimes when you're sick, life doesn't seem worth living

I've been with Mom in Spokane's Sacred Heart Medical Center since Wednesday morning. 

When I got here Wednesday, she seemed to be getting on top of the infection and even was able to sit up and feed herself.  Then Wednesday night, her fever spiked again, and it was like starting over. She is weak, shaky and somewhat out of it, although that comes and goes depending, Peg thinks, on the fever.

On Wednesday, her brother Adrian and sister-in-law Rose came to Spokane from Lewiston, where they have been visiting for the past week.  Adrian and Rita had intended to have a nice long visit together, but this medical crisis deep-sixed those plans.  They're having to go back to their home in California with the image of Mom at her sickest in their minds.  Distressing for them, I know.

Peg and I have been tag teaming so that Mom has one of us by her most of the time.  The nursing staff and other caregivers have been wonderful, but both Peg and I want to be around to make sure that she gets water or coffee when she wants it, that she eats as much as she is willing to eat, and that she is kept entertained or at least distracted.  

Because she has been out of it as much as she has, they did an MRI yesterday, just to ensure that the CAT scan on Saturday hadn't misled them about the state of her brain. Thankfully, it showed no problems.

Her spirits are low--she has NEVER been this sick physically in her life--and she is saying, "what's the use?" But we know that once her white blood cell count improves, she will feel more positive. We hope so, at least. Poor thing.

White blood cell count was at .1; this morning it is at .3; it needs to get to 1.0.     

At least we're going in the right direction. We who are not sick as dogs, as she is, cling to this hope.

Hospitalization

Sad news to report. Mom is in the hospital with an infection. It came on her overnight this weekend. On Friday (April 25), she and Peg had a nice evening together and Mom ate heartily. The next morning (Saturday, April 26), Peg couldn’t wake her up. She knew Mom was alive because she was breathing and had a heartbeat, but still wouldn’t come to complete consciousness. Peg called 911, and Mom ended up in Sacred Heart. The EMT’s suggested that she go there because of the possibility that she had had a stroke.

By about 11:30 AM, they began a CAT scan, and by about 1 PM were able to determine that there was no sign of a stroke on the CAT image. They had also taken a complete blood count and found that her white blood cells were “down to zero.” So they delivered antibiotics and took cultures. It wasn’t until the next morning, however, (Sunday, April 27) that they knew what bug it was and could be sure of the diagnosis: bacterial infection in the blood.

Saturday was a bad night for Mom and for us. She was quite sick. She would occasionally become alert, but Peg, Bill and I all thought she was clearly delirious. She was refusing treatment: “No chemo; no antibiotics; let go, let God” she said over and over again with great vehemence. That really affected Peg, Bill and me. And some of the hospital staff decided that she was lucid enough that her wishes had to be respected. As a result, it was a late night that included lots of discussion with the medical staff about appropriate treatment.

Sunday morning, she showed signs of improvement. I had spent the night there, so I was ready when she was coming to. She seemed a little bit more alert than she had been the night before.

Poor thing, her mouth was so dry. I asked and she agreed to take some water by mouth. She couldn’t lift her head so I held the cup and straw for her. As I helped her, I became aware that she smelled the coffee on my breath. I asked her if she wanted a cup of coffee. She said yes to that, too. I got some nice hot coffee for her, put the straw to her lips, and, boy, did she suck it down. I asked her if it seemed to be too hot. Of course, old iron mouth said, “No, it’s good.” Hallelujah! She sucked down I think three cups in very short order, and from that point on, she was more much more receptive to other assistance.

I firmly believe that the taste of a good, hot cup of coffee brought back her will to live.

Peg and Bill came back to be with her within an hour or so. We were all glad that she seemed to be a bit better but still very, very sad and concerned about her refusal of treatment

When the doctor showed up about noon, he spoke to her very clearly. He said he needed her to accept the antibiotics and the electrolytes, and he needed her to let the nurses draw blood. She said, “OK,” and I can tell you that Peg, Bill and I all erupted with glad relief and gratitude to Mom and many thanks to the doctor. I even hugged him! We hurried the nurse to get the antibiotics and start them up before Mom or anyone else could interfere.

By Monday (April 28), Mom was alert enough to hold conversations with Bill in the morning, me in the afternoon and Peg in the evening. She was strong enough to stand up in the shower and to sit up in a chair to feed herself.

As you might imagine, the weekend was a complete blur to her, so each one of us went over the events of Saturday and Sunday with her. We have downplayed somewhat the fact that for about twelve hours, she was refusing treatment, and about the effect of that on us. We recognize that she is still having a hard time putting it all together in her mind. But we have hopes that when she gets better, we can come to a clearer understanding of her desires.

She has always said that we should refuse all heroic measures to sustain life, and we definitely will respect that, but we did not regard the intravenous administration of antibiotics as a heroic measure. We were distressed that, in her delirium, she was able to persuade the medical staff to terminate that assistance. This is going to take more talking about, definitely.

Today, her fever has risen a bit again. She says that her mind feels foggy, that she feels “silly.” The treatment is continuing: antibiotics, injections to stimulate white blood cell production and hospitalization. We don’t know what will happen next, and we are taking it day-by-day, hour-by-hour.

Thank you all for your kind thoughts and prayers.

This is a photo of Bill's, Peg's and Mom's hands as we were with her in the hospital room.

Sad turn of events

Our mom took a turn for the worst on Saturday, April 26th. She is currently in Sacred Heart Medical Center in Spokane but hopefully will be released later this week. She was looking forward to returning home to Asotin for a week when she was struck with a bacterial infection which hit suddenly on Saturday. Because of the depleted immune system it took rapid control of her body. She is bouncing back slowly, but it was touch and go for a while. Please keep her in your thoughts and prayers.

Thanks to those of you who have commented on the blog. We share your comments and best wishes with her. If you haven't figured it out- Charmaine says all you have to do in click on the blue "comment" word. Thanks to Lisa, her friend and banker, for sending your thoughts. I will pass them on to mom tomorrow! She has friends everywhere!

The second cycle of six

I spent the weekend with Mom and Peg in Spokane. Just felt like I wanted to be there with her and get a firsthand sense of how she is doing. So here is another update.

Mom continues to be in pretty good spirits. She is definitely moving more slowly than normal and doesn’t have a lot of physical pep. But she is alert and interactive—still fun company. Mom, Peg and I went to a movie on Saturday (Al Pacino’s 88 Minutes, a riveting thriller: thumbs up!) and then had a restaurant meal. So Mom is able to get around well enough to enjoy her normal Saturday activities.

On Sunday, Peg had arranged to take some well-earned “me” time with her scrapbooking buddies, so Mom and I had a nice time together—reading the newspaper, making fruit salad, pedicures--stuff like that.

The weather was sunny, although cool, so we enjoyed a slow Sunday drive through Riverside State Park. It’s a wonderful forested area along the Spokane River, an oasis of nature at the edge of sprawling Spokane suburbs. There, she was able to get out for a short walk on level ground. It turned out to be a nice little excursion to the woods.

Mom and I had also gone on a walk around the block earlier in the day. Mom thinks she may have overdone it with the exercise, according to Peg, but I know Mom would rather push the envelope than to be a couch potato.

Yesterday, Peg went with Mom to the second appointment of her second cycle of chemo. I hope Peggets a chance to update this blog with more medical details, but until she does, here’s what I have learned so far.

Mom’s red blood cell count has returned to acceptable levels, thanks to that shot they had given her last week. Mom asked for another one, evidently. "I like those," she told the staff.

So they told her that shot costs $3,000!

Evidently, because of the expense, Medicare is considering refusing to cover it. That would leave someone in Mom’s condition with the recourse of transfusions. Peg thinks, and I agree, that seems counterproductive, since transfusions involve risk. We think of one of Mom’s dear nieces whose hepatitis-C was acquired in the hospital. So it looks like one of us siblings will need to step up and bleed for Mom. I myself am very willing if the meds I’m on don’t disqualify me. Peg's meds disqualify her. So she and I have decided that Bill will be the bleeder, if I can’t. Right, Bill?

Well, we’re looking forward to the arrival of Uncle Adrian and Aunt Rose. Rose and Adrian are taking a leisurely drive from San Jose with several stopovers along the way. They will be in the L-C Valley sometime toward the end of the month. We’re hoping that Mom is able to be in Asotin that week of April 27 and maybe the following week so we can all visit together. We’ll see how it goes. It will be a brother-sister reunion squared, with Aunt Rose united with brothers Bud and Blue and Adrian united with sister Rita. Maybe we'll look at slides of our time in Hawaii.

It’s always so much fun to have loved ones around. About two weeks ago, while Mom was in Asotin before this current second round of chemo, she enjoyed a several-day visit with her son-in-law Ron (Jim’s son) and grandson Davy. I’m not sure that I have all the details right, but I understand that Ron and Davy were on a father-son road trip that included a visit with Grandma.

They lent her a hand with shopping and took care of many, many other little details. She returned the favor by teaching them how to poach eggs. Evidently, they had never heard of that way of preparing eggs before, which tickled Mom no end. She, Peg and I are still giggling about it. Imagine going to sleepy little Asotin to acquire culinary skills! At any rate, she--and we kids--are very grateful for Ron and Davy’s company and love, and we hope their journey has been wonderful.

Mom and Peg

Well, for anyone who is worried about how well Mom has been handling the first week of her second cycle of chemo (including me!), take a look at this photo of Peg and Mom having dinner last night at Shari's. Except for her questionable taste in restaurants, I'd say she's doing pretty well.

Eat lots of irons!

After a very difficult Tuesday, Mom has perked up considerably. She’s now lively and alert, the tremors have diminished to almost nothing, and she has even been able to take walks around the block, accompanied by Bro Bill. (He came over from Wenatchee for a few days when he heard that some additional assistance might be in order. Definitely a mensch!) Mom herself has said that while Tuesday was a 3 on a scale of 1-10, Wednesday was a 6.5 and today so far is a 7.

We’ve agreed that Monday, with about six hours of doctors’ appointments, including the chemo, was just too much. Next time, no double or triple scheduling.

Both Peg and Bill have been making sure that mom eats lots of red meat, dark green veggies and red grapes to shore up her low red blood cell count; she got steak Tuesday and pot roast with veggies last night. My frequent text messages to Bill advocating that she eat foods high in iron has led him to take a very humorous take on the topic:

It feels good to laugh.

"Tell Mom her lunch is ready."





"Getn dinr ready"

An intermission--and then the next round begins

The past week continued to be a slow one for our lovely Rita. She just didn't have any energy, even upon getting up in the morning. In fact, after breakfast and taking her pills, she would usually take a nap. This is very unlike her usual behavior.

It has been so cold and gloomy here that only the forsythia has been brave enough to bloom. But the weekend offered our first real spring weather. On Saturday, we pulled the lawn chairs out of storage and basked happily in the 77-degree sunshine, picnic-ing on chicken and spinach salads. A few tulips finally poked their heads out along with us. Both of us were all smiles about finally getting some blue sky and warm sun.

She made a decision this weekend: Rita Williams will not be doing Bloomsday 2008 (the 7.5 mile marathon in Spokane that regularly attracts 40,000-60,000 people). This breaks a nearly un-broken 23+ year streak. Instead, she and Peg will play the support roles of cook and chauffeur while Bill and I carry the family banner. I expect Mom will enjoy the Bloomsday experience almost as much from the sidelines, though. It really is an exciting festival, and she hasn’t been able to see it from that perspective in a long, long time. I just hope she doesn't pilfer my finisher's t-shirt afterwards.

So, as to the most recent past, yesterday, April 14, began the second cycle of chemotherapy. On Sunday, Peg had met Mom and me in Colfax, the halfway mark between the L-C Valley and Spokane, and Mom continued up to Spokane with her. Peg went with Mom to her two appointments yesterday, the chemo in the late morning and then an eye exam in the early afternoon. I haven't heard the details yet, but Peg did text me that these two appointments took SIX hours. Yipes! I bet they were both very tired when that was over.

Peg's text message also mentioned that Mom's blood test showed some anemia--which explains the muscle weakness--so they gave her some sort of booster before administering the poisons. I'll post more about that when I get more information, or maybe Peg will. I haven’t heard whether Mom has suffered any other effects of the chemo, like nausea, but will post on that soon.

Mom has said that she thinks she may be beginning to lose some hair, too. After she washed her hair on Saturday, she said that there was more hair than usual in the drain. If she is losing hair, though, it isn't noticeable at this point. We haven't talked wigs yet, but I would like to see her as a redhead. Any other recommendations?

Slowing down for a while

I had to take an early leave of Mom today because of a Chorale event in Pullman in the afternoon. Usually, I stay through Sunday and take off for the week early Monday. I was a little concerned to leave her alone because she has been pretty tired. Yesterday afternoon she stretched out on the sofa and watched a basketball game, and that is just not like her at all.

She says she feels OK, though, except that her "vision isn't worth a damn."

On Thursday, while she was dealing with a broken kitchen faucet that wouldn't be fixed until I got down there for the weekend, another stressful irritation occurred: the toilet backed up and wouldn't open up again, no matter how she tried to plunge and problem with unbent coathanger. So I called around until I found a "rooter" who came by and fixed it. Still, having a backed up toilet is not fun when you're well--and less fun when you're sick. I did manage to get the kitchen sink back in working order on Saturday, too, so all is OK again for the time being.

Peg, Bill and I are feeling sad to see her slow down. She's accepting it as the necessary consequence of the medical treatment, though, and that will, we all hope, lead to cure and recovery. We're so grateful for friends who are dropping by to check on her.

Back at home--and happy about it

Now that lovely Rita is back in Asotin, she is having a chance to re-connect with all of her friends in the Valley. She told me that on Tuesday her friend Ellen came over and together they said a rosary; that was heartwarming to hear about. Today, Kate has arranged to pick her up and bring her to her beauty parlor for another one of those beautiful hair-dos that Kate always does. These, along with numerous other expressions of kindness and concern from others, such as Joyce, Virginia and Ingrid, have really lifted her spirits. Last night, I drove from Pullman to Asotin and spent the night with her. I found her eyes sparkling and her manner lively, even though it's clear that she's not feeling completely comfortable. Thank you, thank you to everyone.

The kind folks at the Tri-State Hospital Lifeline program put that equipment back into the house. Mom had had it set up for a short time before deciding to move into Evergreen Estates Retirement Center. Now that she is going to have to be alone for periods of time during the day, it was important, we all agreed, to get it back in place. My mind is a lot easier because of it, for sure.

On Monday, there was a bit of a scare with one of her medications. While getting her Monday dose out of her Sunday-through-Saturday pill box, she accidently dropped the Wednesday dose on the floor. Neither of us noticed it until a bit later, when I saw two capsules on the kitchen floor. One of them had been broken open, leaving a dusty pile of medicine on the floor. The other one seemed as if it might have been slightly bitten by one of the dogs, but it hadn't been pierced. I wasn't sure how many capsules make up each dose, so I checked the pill box. The remaining pill box sections each had three capsules, not two. Yipes! Could Zen or Yoda have eaten one of them? That quite distressing possibility had me madly making calls to confirm that the Wednesday pill box section should have had three capsules in it. Only when I was on the phone with Peg for the second or third time did I finally spot the third capsule at the edge of the kitchen floor. It was whole. Thank goodness!

So then began a quest for a replacement for the broken pill. We would need to track one down before her final dose on Wednesday. I called almost all of the pharmacies in the Valley, but no one stocked that medication. I called my Pullman pharmacy; they could order it for the next day. Ruminating, I realized that billing would be SO complicated, and this medication is $60 per capsule. Finally, a wonderful woman at Albertons Sav-On pharmacy in Spokane where Peg had originally gotten the prescription stepped up and offered to play a truly kind and generous role. They agreed to run over to the post office with a single capsule and mail it overnight mail to Mom's P.O. Box in Asotin. It got there in time, and we owe a big, big thanks to the pharmacy staff there.

I won't be able to get down to Asotin tonight because of an evening meeting, but I may go down tomorrow evening, unless Mom is doing so well that the commute just seems silly. I definitely will be going down for the weekend, though.

March 30, 2008

Never one to let grass grow under her feet, lovely Rita has temporarily returned to Asotin. Her next chemo treatment will be on April 11th. This lapse between treatments gives her the opportunity to go to her home and get out of the snow which is still plaguing Spokane.

On Saturday, cousins Jonna and Vicky drove from the coast to see mom. They had quite a harrowing trip having decided to leave their homes on Friday night rather than Saturday morning. They got caught for about 45 minutes when Snoqualamie Pass closed, then proceeded to Spokane where they planned to get a hotel room for the night (so as to not awaken mom and me). Oops! Forgot that the NCAA Women's Basketball Tournament is in town! They had to drive all the way to Coeur D'Alene to find a room. They both laughed about it knowing they could have found rooms in Moses Lake, Ritzville or Cheney! What a trip! They graciously offered to drive mom back home which saved both Charm and I the drive. Thanks cousins!

We want to thank all of you who have written or called to express support for mom. She does fatigue easily so we ask for your understanding if she doesn't respond to all calls or visits. All in all she has handled this challenge as she has everything else in her life...with humor and strength!

The second chemo infusion event

I'll give you all a brief about Mom's second chemo infusion yesterday, Monday the 24th. Peg has a lot more detailed information, though, so she may want to add or correct some of my comments.

Mom had been told by her oncologist, Dr. Chaundhry, that the results of a MUGA test showed that the "squeeze" power of her heart was less than it should be; it was 40% when it should be 60%. He recommended that she go back to her cardiologist. So yesterday she did, seeing another doctor in the Spokane office of her Lewiston-based cardiology doctor. This doctor ordered a echocardiogram, which is a more modern and more exact test than the MUGA. The results of this test showed that Mom's output is more like 50%, which is more than satisfactory for a woman of her age. With that result, the doctor cut back on the dosage of the medicine meant to help her heart.

So that was good news for Mom, who is looking forward to another Bloomsday in May, the Pacific Northwest's version of the Boston marathon (only shorter).

The intravenous chemo infusion begins with a blood panel, and the results actually showed improvement in red and white blood cell counts over last week's. That's also good news. Finally, as the doctor examined her, he noted that the groin lymph node that was no longer swollen. Generally speaking, he said, she is responding very, very well to the treatment.

Mom so far hasn't experienced the typical side effects of chemo--nausea and hair loss. She is perhaps just beginning to feel a bit hyped up from the Predisone, for she reported that she had a difficult time falling asleep last night. That's not at all like her. She made up for it by sleeping late this morning, though.

Peg and I talked this evening and agreed that this week has been less stressful than last week, when we were all being introduced to new procedures and such. Let's hope that Mom's good health continues as she enjoys a 20-day interval until her next intravenous infusion at the beginning of the next 28 day cycle. She is thinking that she might be able to go back to Asotin and enjoy her own home for a while, but we'll see how the week develops.

Thanks to everyone who is sending emails. I'm passing them on to Peg and she's reading them to Mom.

Love to you all.

Busy Easter weekend, wasn't it?

Well, Mom had a great week, it seems, and a great Easter weekend. Peg always likes to do the Easter egg thing with Michelle and Chelsea, so egg decorating was on the schedule for Saturday. I understand that Mom got kind of tired out and crashed when Peg and she got back to Peg's house. But what great-grandmother wouldn't feel that way after being a part of all that hubbub?

Sunday began with Mass with Peg and Chelsea, then the egg hunt in Peg's front yard. By the time I got to Spokane (I had been in the Valley moving Mom's stuff out of Evergreen Estates), all of that was over and everyone was chilling out in anticipation of a great dinner.

Peg served a wonderful ham that she had injected with a honey praline marinade. Yum! We feasted until we were full and then adjourned to easy chairs for conversation. I had to drive back to Pullman that evening to go to work the next morning.

So it was, all in all, a great family time. Happy Easter!

Livin' it up in Kauai in February

Mom, Peg and I joined Uncle Adrian and Auntie Rose in Kauai, Hawaii in mid-Feb for a great 10-day vacation. Mom had just received her diagnosis of Hodgkin's Lymphoma. She had asked her docs whether she should cancel the trip; they said, "you go, girl, and have the time of your life." So she did. Here are some of the pics that prove it.