On Friday, my cell rings on my desk at work coming up as “Mom”. I am thinking, ok she needs me to come get her from Chemo. No problem, right? Not really it is my Grandma not my mom. “Pamela, it’s your Grandmother.” She then tells me I need to leave work and come the Cancer Center. Yep, a phone call like that can you highest level of freak out in a second. Sure I got to leave work early on Friday, but not for a fun reason. While driving to the center OF course everyone was driving slow, and there was road closures. Which I think was a good thing made me think of something other things than what was really going on with my mom.
I get out there and you cannot just walk back in the treatment room. I have stop at the desk tell my name and who the patient was I wanted to see. Finally get back there I don’t see my mom sitting in any of chemo chairs. I look towards the back of the room and see my Grandma standing in the door of a private room. WTF! I walk in the room my mom is passed out on the bed. They had to give her a shot with an epipen and 3 shot of Benadryl. I walk over to the bed and laid right beside her on the bed, until my hand touch her. She jumped and said “your hands are cold”. Turns out reaction was cause by the second Chemo med she was receiving on Friday. Apparently, after receiving this medicine over time a long period of time a reaction may happen. But, there is other cancer fighting cocktails my mom can receive. The next one will be a cocktail that she responded very well too about 2 years ago. We were told this day at the appointment. We also told she will receive this chemo cocktail once a week for 3 weeks. Then have a one week off, I remember how she was the last time. By the third week she was a bear. Between no food tasting right and not pooping. Yep, I said “pooping”. She was tough to handle, but you to suck it up deal with it.
The very first chemo she had her throat close up on her. All because of the components that made up Taxol. She tells the story like this, the premeds were all done. She ask my dad to go home and make a baloney sandwich for her. In the time my dad left the center and came my mom had a crew of people around her. Per my mom my dad went every shade of white. Too put the cherry a top of that it was my sister birthday. I can just imagine how that birthday phone call went. “Happy Birthday!! Oh I had allergic reaction to my first chemo treatment.” My sister probably started crying on the phone, and yes I know I sound like a bitch. But she will cry if tell her she has something in her teeth. I get home work she calls me, and tells me. My reaction “Do they have a new plan?” Then I hung up the phone and sat in doubt. I unlike my sister I bottle everything up. Yep, I know that is not good. Believe me the scale has told me this over the last 2.5 years of this roller coaster ride.
There is nothing I can do but sit back. I can hug her, and rub my nose on her cheek. Those two things will make me feel better, but not her. I always say she is a tough cookie, she also a very big-hearted person. She is always more concern about what her diagnosis has affected my sister and me. Cancer really does not care who it picks on, young, old, poor, rich. This is a very mean disease. My mom is going round for round with it. My dads ignore it, and pass away. I don’t know when cancer will win, but I do know it will a long time. I also know there are now two Chemo meds cross of the list for treatment.
I am complaining, do I have a right? Yes, because it is my mom.