And it was hideous, as expected.
On top of that, two days in, I got the flu. I’m miserable, and have all the energy of a half frozen slug.
I did manage to read two books–avoidance, ain’t it grand?–and I’m trying to cobble together enough brain cells and energy to write about them.
I hope you all are doing well.
I am in Mexico for a week.
Originally, back in May when I planned this trip, I was coming to spend time with my mother.
Now, I’m here to go through my mother’s personal effects with my siblings.
I have very limited internet while here, but I’ll check back when I get back.
To my friends and readers from the US, may you have a stress-free Thanksgiving, and hopefully a good time with family. To every one else…stay sane!
My mother died last night.
Tomorrow morning, about 8am Eastern, the medical team will attempt surgery on my mother, for the second time, to try and remove as much as possible of the glioblastoma that’s putting so much pressure on her brain.
The pros: she’s a lot stronger than she was two weeks ago, and has been receiving consistently better care around the clock in this hospital than she had for almost two weeks in the previous two hospitals. Also, the neurosurgeon, the cardiologist, and the anesthesiologist who are caring for her are all very positive about the surgery. The anesthesiologist also said he’ll try something slightly different, to try and avoid a repeat of the first time.
The cons: she’s 81 years old, and has spent over five weeks in hospital beds; also, this type of cancer is very aggressive and, by its very nature, it is impossible to remove all the cancerous cells.
Either way, once more, if you would spare some prayers or good thoughts for her, they will be much appreciated.
Updated 2:20pm Eastern: I just received a one-line text from one of my siblings. My mother is out of surgery, and the doctors will tell them more later. For now, it’s more than enough to know she’s still fighting. Thank you, most sincerely, for your good thoughts and prayers.
Thank you for your generosity of spirit.
Today it’s been thirty one days since my mother had the seizures that put her in a hospital bed.
As I write this, I’m waiting to hear, from my beleaguered siblings, whether the medical team overseeing her care, has recommended to try the surgery a second time, or not; as well as what her prognosis is, under whatever treatment we, the family and the doctors, decide on.
In the meantime, my siblings tell me, she is stable, vital signs-wise, and aware and coherent a good two thirds of the time she’s awake. On the down side, she’s in pain, and uncomfortable with all the many indignities that come with being helpless in a hospital setting.
As Ms Jones said, being the one at the other end of the phone–or text or email–is hell.
Below the cut, a bit more detail, and a couple of rants, so feel free to skip this–I really don’t want to depress anyone with my shit.
I’ve been on denial for almost a week.
The MRI done on my mother last
Friday Thursday showed a tumor in her brain–specifically, a glioblastoma. The diagnosis was confirmed the following morning.
Because reasons, it was only about an hour ago that the neurosurgeon finally met with my siblings. My mother will be having surgery tomorrow morning, starting sometime around 11:00-11:30 am Eastern. Barring complications, she should be in recovery about four hours later.
Any good thoughts or prayers you may spare for her wellbeing, are deeply appreciated.
Update: couldn’t do the procedure, because her blood pressure spiked too high and too long. On waiting mode until a geriatric cardiologist can evaluate her, see if the surgery can happen at all. If not, determine course of action.
Thank you, again, from the bottom of my heart, for your good wishes and prayers. She’s alive, awake, and resting, and that’s already a victory in the circumstances. Thank you.
Down, down, down…up, up, up.
I don’t talk much about my family online, but I did mention two weeks ago that my mother had a convulsive episode that landed her in the hospital. When I wrote that, it seemed that the event, while serious, would have no lasting effect, and that she would be released to my siblings’ care soon.
It was not the case, by a long shot.
She’s still in hospital.
Yesterday, they did another
tomography (update: it was an MRI) of her brain, for which they had to sedate her. As she’s eighty one years old, and her previous experiences with anesthesia had never been good, we were concerned. Thankfully, she came through with flying colors.
Now, we wait to see what the neurologists have to say, and we hope for the best.