Aunt Pat Leaves & Sean Arrives

At the end of June Mom had now completed two cycles of chemo. She was become weaker and she was becoming more tired. The initial energy that had come roaring in with the initiation in chemo and new pain medications had worn out. She was used to them. Her positive attitude was dwindling as well. She was becoming less and less able to take care of herself. She only had the effort to put on a good show for the public. Unfortunately, Aunt Pat was getting the brunt of her anger with myself second in line.

I'm going to go a little off topic at the moment, but it has a point. We deal with a lot of behavioral problems with our daughter Amelia at home. She is extremely strong willed and wants to do what she wants to do. We deal with hours of screaming and tantruming at home on a daily basis. However, my child is an angel for others. She is well behaved at school, daycare, and for any baby-sitters. In fact, if Spencer, myself, or Kristina are not around she is as pleasant as they come. I get a lot of flack for this. I've been told I'm being manipulated and we don't have control of our child. This week her daycare provider told me however that she knows that parents are doing something right if their children are well-behaved for others. This was a weight off my shoulders. Amelia trusts us at home, she knows we're never going to leave her and our love is unconditional. She is secure so she allows her raw emotion to come out. I believe this was how my Mom was feeling. She was putting on her best behavior for everyone else, but Aunt Pat and I were experiencing her raw emotion, her anger, her loss of control. We were her punching bag because she trusted us and she knew we loved her unconditionally. We would not leave.

The week prior to her second cycle of chemo I urged Aunt Pat to go home. It was too tough. Mom was not being nice to Aunt Pat. I could take care of it, I said, she's my Mom. Aunt Pat said very seriously and without hesitation, "Danielle, I've known your Mom for a long time. I knew what was coming. I am fine." She really wasn't, Mom was being hurtful with her words and behavior, but Aunt Pat wasn't budging.

However, Aunt Pat was going to go home while my brother Sean and his family were in town. It would've been too much for my Mom to have everyone there. It was a break for both Aunt Pat and my Mom. Aunt Pat would come back in two weeks for the third cycle of chemo.

Sean, his wife Teal and their two children Liam and Noey flew in from northern California on Saturday June 28, 2014. It is always an adventure when Sean is in town.

Sean and his family would be here for the upcoming July 4th/Birthday celebration and to spend some time with Mom. Time they assumed that would be their last with our Mom. Aunt Pat stayed for the evening to see them.

The next morning Sean went to church with my Mom. This meant the world to her. 

"Sean went to church with me. PTL (Praise the Lord)"

Dad Has Cancer Too

A little over a year ago my Dad called to tell me that his doctor had checked his PSA and that while still within normal range it had jumped from low normal to high normal. The doctor had checked and felt a small nodule on his prostate so he was sent to a urologist to have it biopsied. He told me that they were sure it was probably nothing but they wanted to have it checked out anyway.

On Thursday June 25, 2014 I was over at my friend Kristina's apartment. We had taken Amelia swimming. We had come back to her apartment after it had started storming and I was sitting at her dining room table when my Dad called me. The biopsy had returned positive for prostate cancer. Of course my Dad has cancer, of course, I thought. In a Facebook note I wrote on New Year's Eve last year I delineated a series of trials my family has been through the past 5 years. A never ending series of sad, unfortunate events. My Mom had cancer, so of course why shouldn't my Dad too?

However, unlike my Mom, I knew my Dad was going to be okay. Mom had drawn the short end of the cancer stick. Prostate cancer is highly curable when caught early. But still, my Dad had cancer. Honestly, I feel for my Dad. His cancer was put on the back burner. I would even forget about it sometimes. I would be talking to him about what was going on with Mom and then I would remember that he was getting cancer treatment too. "Oh yeah Dad, how's your cancer?" I would say when I'd remembered. I think people who have more "minor" cancers sometimes might be looked over, they don't get the same support from family and friends. I know I didn't give the same support to my Dad. It's still cancer though and cancer in any form is scary. I knew my Dad was worried and scared. Our family does not have a good history of winning against cancer.

My parents saw radiation oncologists on back to back days last summer, Mom in Muncie, and him in Florida. She would undergo 15 radiation treatments to her bone metastasis in her hip and spine. He would receive hormone therapy to shrink the prostate and then undergo 42 radiation treatments to his prostate.

I'm sure some people think it was terrible my parents were divorced and then a year later my Mom develops such an aggressive cancer. Such a shame my Dad wasn't there for her right? I can tell you it was good my Dad left when he did. It was for the best. The turmoil that had been brewing for years was over. People who know and understand my family intimately know this. It would've been too much for us children to manage both parents with cancer on top of a lifetime of hostility. Sometimes we don't see it then, but things work out like they're supposed to. I can tell you it has taken me a long time to come to this resolution, I still sometimes waver in my thoughts.

I finally told my Mom about his cancer a couple days before she was hospitalized for pneumonia and sepsis last July. She paused a long time as she did when she was contemplating things. "Well," she finally said, "I wish them well." I was surprised. Maybe she just didn't have the strength to be angry, but I was grateful for her tempered response.

My Dad finished cancer treatment in November. The treatment was successful but I can tell you it aged him. Not too long after he completed treatment he ended up in the ICU with chest pain and an irregular heart rate. He got through it, but he's not the same, but he's doing everything in his power to live.

I am fortunate to have two parents who have taken extraordinarily good care of me, and every day I'm grateful to still have one with me in this world.

No Hair

Two weeks after my Mom started chemo, she started losing her hair. It started the Monday after Father's Day. Wednesday of that week I came into town for a funeral and her hair was falling out in clumps. Two weeks prior Mom and Aunt Pat had had some fun shopping at the Cancer Center Boutique and of course Aunt Pat purchased multiple hats for her. Mom wore a page boy style hat to that funeral and I have to say she looked pretty darn good. My mom had never been one to wear hats but I think they complemented her very well. I had to keep dusting hair off her back that day.

On Friday June 20, 2014 she had a previously scheduled hair cut with her favorite stylist. She took the plunge and decided heck with it and to just get a very close cut.

She texted me a picture saying "My new do...it was a rather emotional experience for the hair dressers..." I imagine it was. Mom was very fond of her stylist, I believe her name was Julie. They had been friends for some time now. I imagine it was hard to see a client you had been seeing for years, styling her hair, and now she has a terminal cancer and is asking you to shave it off.

I'm proud of my Mom for taking that plunge and embracing it with a positive attitude.

Mom Meets Lydia

On Thursday June 5, 2014 Mom and Aunt Pat planned to come visit me in the hospital and meet Lydia. She had her last treatment of her first cycle of chemo that morning and then she and Aunt Pat were driving down to Indianapolis to Community North Hospital.

It is interesting as I was trying to recollect this day that I realized some of my memories were off. I know that my friends Tori and Kristina were both there when my Mom visited but in texting with them asking details of what they remember, I realized my recollection of the day was not entirely accurate.  For instance, I thought they were both already in the room when my Mom and Aunt Pat walked in, but they weren't.  Although comparing Tori's and Kristina's recollections their details don't really match up either. It's details I suppose don't really matter but goes to show that I'm trying my best to remember things but it might not always be 100% accurate. To my credit, I had just had a baby, haha.

What I remember most about that day was how different my Mom was. She was on top of the world. Kristina recollects about my Mom, "She was happy. She was elated. She saw me in the hallway downstairs and I asked how she was. After we hugged she said, 'I'm just great. I feel wonderful. I'm ready to meet Lydia!' She saw me in the hallway and she had her cane but it wasn't touching the floor. She had her arms out wide to show how great she felt."

It was so strange. She had just had chemo. She wasn't supposed to feel great, she was supposed to be tired, weak, maybe nauseous, but she was not. I was lying in bed when she literally bounded in the room, dropping her cane along the way. The nurse looked surprised. I was shocked. What is going on with my Mother? What exactly did they give her at chemo? Aunt Pat walked in, I looked at her and she just looked at me like, "Don't ask me."

I was happy to see that Mom felt so good. I didn't want her to feel bad, but this was unnerving. I'd liken it to seeing a parent intoxicated, the disinhibition was unnatural.

It's interesting as I recollect talking to people who had spoken with her in those couple weeks after her first cycle of chemo. People thought she was hilarious, she sounded so good. It was talking to my brother Sean when he described it best, "She sounds good, a bit high, but good." That's exactly what it was, she was high off the medications. It turns out they had switched her Norco to long acting morphine as well as given her high doses of IV steroids with the chemo. The medications were causing her to act this way. They were masking her pain, masking the effects of the chemo. Coupled with the fact Pat Sexton didn't believe chemo would get her down she felt on top of the world. Chemo was a breeze I'm sure she thought.

During the visit she calmed down a bit, we were able to take some pictures I will always treasure.

It was a good visit. I was glad she felt so good. But I was a bit scared too, I was scared this was how my Mom was going to be from now on. She felt good, she was elated, on top of the world, but she wasn't acting like my Mom. 

Mom Starts Chemo & Lydia Is Born

Mom was set to start chemo Tuesday June 3, 2014. She was to be there at 10 AM and was told to expect to be there 4 or 5 hours. I woke up that morning just having turned 36 weeks pregnant. Although I've never posted them because things were so hectic around Lydia's birth, I had taken weekly pictures of my pregnancy. It was something I thought was trivial when I was pregnant with Amelia so I didn't do them. I regret that, if for nothing else, you can't get back pictures that were never taken. So it was something I decided to do with Lydia. I snapped this picture that morning.

I went to work and just felt exhausted. This pregnancy was so much harder than with Amelia most likely because of Amelia. It was hard to keep up with her. I felt short of breath so easily. I had this same symptom with Amelia but at least then I could rest whenever I wanted. Physically though, I really was fine. The pregnancy had been perfect, not one single problem. But that morning I was so tired. I had a c-section scheduled for June 23...3 weeks away. I wondered how I'd make it. With Amelia, I had went to 41 weeks and had to be induced ultimately ending in an emergency c-section. That girl did not want to come out. Even at 41 weeks, I didn't want to be induced, I cried on the way to the hospital.  It was not because I feared induction, but Amelia and I were doing just fine. I felt unprepared for the uncertainty of having a newborn and I just enjoyed being pregnant. However, with Lydia, I was done. I was tired of being pregnant. How in the world did I last 41 weeks with Amelia? That said, it never once crossed my mind Lydia would come early. She was due July 1, c-section was June 23, that's when she would be born, the end. 

At work that morning, I actually asked the nurse to bring a couple of the patients to me instead of me walking to see them. I told another nurse I was absolutely not having any more children.  I was DONE. I wanted to be on maternity leave. I had planned this pregnancy hoping I would be on maternity leave during the summer.  I had jokingly made a pregnancy pact with one of my good Marchie Mom friends and it had actually worked out! We both had March 2012 babies and now we were both going to have July(ish) babies!

Jennifer lives in Georgia and we met on the internet in a March 2012 Moms' group. She lost her mom when she was 18 to pancreatic cancer. She has been one of my biggest supporters and confidants through the loss of my Mom.

I had texted my Mom that morning and then she texted an update about 11:30 AM.

Ugh, come on, why hadn't it started yet? It was supposed to start at 10 and was almost running two hours behind. I really wanted to be there with her but I felt secure in knowing that Aunt Pat was with her. 

At lunch, I went to Jason's Deli and then stopped at Buy Buy Baby to buy an extra car seat base that we needed and one of my beloved Halo fleece swaddle sleepsacks that makes Davis newborn babies sleep so well. 

I went to Westminster for the second part of my work day. I went to go see a patient and then went to the bathroom. I'll spare the details but essentially my water broke while I was using the bathroom. Let me tell you, that is really confusing. I actually assumed I'd just reached that point in pregnancy where I'd officially become incontinent. I was short of breath, exhausted, and now peeing on myself...splendid. I went to go see another patient before deciding maybe I should have this checked out. I felt embarrassed I was now that girl who couldn't tell if her water had broken or if she was just peeing on herself. It was about 3 PM and my logical mind told to get in to see my doctor before they closed. I didn't want to end up at the ER waiting if this was the real deal. 

I stopped one of my favorite nurses and told her what was going on.  I said, "But I'm sure I'll be back Bella, I'll finish my work." She told me, "No honey, if it's not, just go on home and rest." I tried to call Spencer but he didn't answer. The person I really wanted to call was my Mom, but I couldn't, she was at chemo. I remember thinking that I had no one to call and tell them about this silly predicament I was in. So I told my online friends.  One said, "You're 36 weeks, it'll be ok right?" Whoa...it hadn't even crossed my mind this was early, Lydia was not full term yet. Honestly the only thing I had thought of was that maybe I was done with work for 12 weeks! 

I went to my OB's office embarrassingly telling them the story. Lo and behold, it turns out it was my water that had broken. I was still unable to get ahold of Spencer. They walked me over to the labor and delivery unit and put me in a room. I thought hmm what do I do now? How was this going to work out? How was Spencer going to get here should I be able to get ahold of him? He had Amelia and Kristina was at work. I decided to call my friend Asheley and had her go to the house so she would be able to relieve Spencer until Kristina got off work. I was finally able to get ahold of Spencer to tell him the plan. I remember I had to take a couple work calls while the nurse was hooking me up to equipment. It was a busy afternoon. I finally texted my Mom.

I was worried she'd insist on coming to Indianapolis to see me and I didn't want that. She needed to rest from chemo. She had been there for Amelia's birth through the whole grueling ordeal it was from 8 AM March 29, 2012 until 4 AM on March 30. I had intended it to just be Spencer and I during the delivery but I screamed for my Mom when the pain became unbearable. I needed my Mom. She had intended to be there for Lydia's c-section as well. 

She didn't respond to my text so I called her and let her know what was going on and that I was okay. Even though I was the one having surgery, I felt like I needed to make sure everyone else was okay, that everything was in place and everyone was taken care of. 

The c-section was scheduled for 8 PM since I had eaten at noon. They told me it was likely Lydia would need to go to the NICU. They wheeled me back to the surgical suite and began the process. Although I had been through this with Amelia, I was not cognizant of the process. With Amelia I was wheeled into the OR screaming, hoping and praying someone would put me out of the misery trying to have a vaginal delivery had been. I think I was delirious and have little recollection of the experience. But with Lydia it was different. Even though it was still an "emergency" everything was much calmer. I laid on the table and they got started. I did feel scared, it's unnerving to be awake during surgery. I wished my Mom was there, oh how I wished she was there. I got sick, but the anesthesiologist gave me medication and the feeling disappeared. They continued with the procedure and I listened to the radio. It was taking longer than I had anticipated. Finally they told me they were almost ready. Lydia was about to be born. We were about to meet her. And at that moment Tim McGraw's Live Like You Were Dying came on the radio. As cheesy as it probably is, that song had resonated with me this past month as my Mom's cancer story unfolded. 

He said I was in my early 40s,

With a lot of life before me,

When a moment came and stopped me on a dime.

I spent most of the next days, looking at the x-rays,

Talking about the options and talking about sweet time.

I asked him when it sank in, 

That this might really be the real end,

How's it hit you when you get that kind of news?

Man, what'd you do?

And he said,

I went skydiving,

I went Rocky Mountain climbing,

I went two point seven seconds on a bull named Fu Man Chu.

And I loved deeper

And I spoke sweeter

And I gave forgiveness I'd been denying

And he said, Someday I hope you get the chance

To live like you were dying

I started crying, the moment was perfect, absolutely perfect. My Mom had started chemo and Lydia was born. It felt like an exchange, a bad for a good. A trade. It was going to be okay. No matter what, everything was going to be okay. 

They brought me my beautiful little Lydia for a brief moment before whisking her away to the NICU. I was okay with that. She was 5 lbs 8 oz 18.9 inches long, good for a preemie. She looked good they told me, they just wanted to monitor her. Spencer had gotten a better look at her than I had. I said, "Does she look like Amelia?" He said, "Yes, yes she does." 

I don't know why Lydia came a month early...maybe I was stressed, maybe I was finally not stressed with Aunt Pat there. I like to think though that she came early to spend more time with her Mams though. Today was Game Day for Mom and Lydia knew we needed to hit the ground running. "Let's get this show on the road," she said. Everything had turned out perfectly, I felt euphoric that night. My Mom posted this on Facebook:

Aunt Pat Comes To Town

On June 1, 2014, our Aunt Pat came into town.  As I mentioned in my Memorial Day post, Aunt Pat is not really our aunt, she was my Mom's best friend. They met at First Baptist Church when my Mom was in her 20s. I have many fond memories of my Aunt Pat when I was little. Aunt Pat = Fun. She lived just down the road from us and spent a lot of time with us including birthdays, holidays, and vacations. She was a part of our family.

I remember times when we would be dropped off at Aunt Pat's as my parents went out and my Mom saying, "Now Pat, don't take them out to eat." She would say okay and we'd all wave good-bye. She'd shut the door, turn around and say, "Ok kids where do you want to go to eat?" She also had a way of softening my Mom's temper when she would become upset. I remember them reminiscing about a story last summer when many years ago Aunt Pat had come over to the house and Mom was upset. Aunt Pat said, "Hi!" and my Mom turned around and threw a plate at her. Aunt Pat caught it in her hand, laid in down on the table, and said, "Ok kids let's go find somewhere to eat!" It's probably good Aunt Pat moved away when I was young or else I would probably weigh 400 lbs today.

When I was in second grade Aunt Pat met a man, Chuck, who lived in Florida. They were married and Aunt Pat moved to Florida with him. Aunt Pat moved away February 9, 1991. I still remember that day, helping her pack things when it was still dark outside.  After she left, my Mom took me to get my ears pierced that afternoon. I think she was trying to ease the sadness that Aunt Pat was gone.

I think this picture was likely taken right before she left. I know that was the vest I wore in my 2nd grade picture.

I remember Aunt Pat and Chuck came back to visit when I was in 3rd grade and then it was a long time before we saw her again. Sadly, Chuck was diagnosed with cancer and died not too long after. I remember that I felt Chuck had already "stolen" our Aunt Pat and now that he had died she was alone down there and we were still without her. This upset me. I didn't understand why Aunt Pat couldn't just come back. I didn't understand all the intricacies of moving when I was that young. I don't think we saw Aunt Pat again until I was in 7th grade when we went to Disney World.

Fortunately after that period, we were able to see Aunt Pat on a more consistent basis. Her arrival was usually a surprise to us kids. She liked surprises. She tried her best to show up for important events if she was able. I was always filled with excitement when I knew Aunt Pat was coming, even more so when I would see her pull up in our driveway unexpectedly.

In 2011 I believe it was, 20 years after she left, Aunt Pat was able to move home.  Unfortunately for us, home for Aunt Pat was Glencoe, Ohio where her family was. Still, at least this was much closer than Florida.

She came that Sunday to be with Mom for chemo. My brothers and I were relieved. Temporarily, we had a solution of someone to care for Mom. I thought Aunt Pat was only staying for her first cycle of chemo, I didn't realize at the time that she intended to stay through it all. We would ask her how long she planned to stay and she would answer, "Oh I don't know, we'll see." That was Aunt Pat. She is one of the most selfless people I know. She gives so much of herself to others, probably more than she should.

That afternoon, Spencer, Amelia, and I drove up to Muncie to Mom's apartment. Ryan, Carly, Graison, and Lucas drove down from Roanoke and we waited on Aunt Pat. She arrived with her good friend Joy and Joy's son Shannon.  We had intended for the kids to go swimming in the apartment pool but unfortunately it hadn't opened yet. Mom's apartment was packed and kids were running everywhere. We got ordered food from Pizza King (of course!) and as usual Aunt Pat insisted on paying and ordered way too much food. 

That afternoon was joyful, full of love. We were so happy. We were not afraid that Mom was going to start chemo in two days, there was no air of sadness. We were exuberant. Aunt Pat had come to town and Mom was going to fight cancer.