Trying to Find My Way Back

When I first entered the HealthCare arena...as a working professional, I was 20 years old. I lived and went to school in a community that was underserved. And depended greatly on the college students. Who at the time, worked in our local healthcare system, and held 80% of those jobs. The thing is, my college has this amazing nursing program. And the Nutrition Program is also greatly sought after. A little hidden gem if I'm being honest. 

So weeks into switching my major, I was working at my local Department of Health Office. About 2 months in, I was in the ICU of our local hospital. It was all very quick. But then again, I was a quick study. My professors and the doctors I worked under, felt like I could handle it all.

I spent a solid 10 years working. In hospitals. In clinics. Doing research studies for the Universities I attended. Eventually, I became a contractor for the Hospital System my family uses. And when I made that leap, to move home and take care of my aging parents, I slowly slipped away from work.

Maybe I was naive. I thought after my Mom's services, I'd be back to work. Maybe take the Summer off. And then jump head first. What I didn't anticipate was the mental unpreparedness. 

For the first couple of years, after I moved to take care of my Dad, I had continued to work. When and where I could. I was a contractor where he received care. So I'd fill the gaps where I could. Mostly working at the Main Hospital. On weekends, I'd drive 4 hours to return to the Children's Hospital where I worked. During the week, I'd check into our local hospital when I could. I also had a pretty flexible position within our state's Department of Health.

Eventually my Dad's health got to be so bad, that I had to stop working. His care, basically became 24/7/365. We couldn't trust him to drive. He was being hospitalized more and more often. Falls were so common, the local Fire House knew us personally. Things were just spiraling downward. And when my Mom could step in to help...it usually left me doing something for their business. So work was on hold. 

After my Dad's death, I struggled. Mostly silently. With grief. I tried to keep everything together. More so for my Mom. She needed me to be strong. I continued to go to a Support Group that we'd attended as a family. In the Cancer Center where my parents received care. I'd visit my Dad's grave daily, while my Mom was at work. She'd returned part time. 5 months after his death. But I knew I was having a tough time. I saw the hard stuff, that no one else saw. I helped my Dad, keep things from my Mom. Like when I actively knew he was dying. And so did he. But he didn't want her to know.

I gave my Mom and I a goal. One year. At one year, I'd start taking the necessary steps to move back to my home. To reclaim my life. And to get back to the career I'd abandoned. I also felt like that was a good amount of time, to attend the Support Group. Not to mention, I was having TeleMed appointments with my therapist 4 hours away.

Something was off with my Mom. I thought it was the grief of losing my Dad. She didn't go to counseling like I did. She didn't even know that I was seeing a therapist. My Mom held tight to her faith. When I brough up moving, my Mom slightly panicked. 

I thought maybe it was because she hadn't really taken care of any finances, since her and my Dad got together. And after his death, I was the one paying the bills. Making sure things stayed on track. But that wasn't it either. Maybe she didn't want to live alone. I mean, we sort of inherited a dog 2 weeks after my Dad died. And when I brought up moving...my Mom instantly fought me for the dog. The dog she didn't want, when my cousin didn't pick her up. The dog that was attached to me. Literally, attached to my side. At all times. So I'd spend 3 months looking in all the City Shelters. To be told, I needed to get a puppy. Or the two dogs would never get along. Long story short, I ended up with a puppy. So technically, neither of us would be alone.

But that wasn't it either. We'd spent that first summer, basically at my Dad's graveside. Daily my Mom wanted to visit him. We'd have lunch there. Take the dog. Sit for hours. Listen to music. Read books. Just talk. About 9 months after his death, my Mom was just not OK. I couldn't put my finger on it. We were fighting a lot. She seemed off. But I didn't know what was really bothering her. 

I let things go for a few more months. I figured we could talk again, around the anniversary of my Dad's death. I thought, I could move in June. Take a few weeks to get things in order. Then I could go work in July. But my Mom wasn't having it. 

I knew she had a long trip planned with my Aunt and Uncle. So instead of going back to work in July, I told my supervisor, I'd go back in December. Why are those the only times when they want you to enter the workforce? It's a hospital thing. So we agreed December. But my Mom got sick that Summer. And was diagnosed with cancer in September. She spent at least 6 months, in excruciating pain. At diagnosis, the Hospitalist told her she could no longer work. Or drive. Basically, if she couldn't drive...she couldn't work. So there I was. Back at square one. Not sure what I should do.

My plans to go to work were thrown out the window. Fast forward a bit. About 6 months after my Mom's diagnosis...she either started to tolerate the pain better. Or maybe it got slightly better. She slowed significantly on her pain meds. And I decided, we needed some income. So I entered the workforce. With the Department of Health (DOH). Previously, I'd worked in their Clinics. Both the basic clinic. And with Women, Infants, and Children. So I took a job with WIC. 

I didn't realize it was going to be so tough. But it was, what it was. I worked online when I could. I'd go into one of our local offices to teach classes. Once a week. But my Mom, she wasn't doing well. She was struggling with basic stuff. The pain got worse. Neither of us had decent doctors. We were still trying to get her Health Insurance.

Eventually, I stopped going in to teach. Because I couldn't leave her. My Mom couldn't pick up a gallon of milk. Or bend to pick up laundry. She couldn't open a bottle of water. So I did the online thing. For a few months. Eventually, it just wasn't working out.

I'd spend the next 4 years, taking care of my Mom. We got into selling at our local Growers' Markets. Selling our crafts. I started helping friends. Who in return would give us veggies, pies, and bread. Whatever they sold. I just tried to help. And was so grateful for the help that they gave us in return. 

At the high point of the pandemic, I started doing TeleMed appointments. Both for the DOH/WIC and the Children's Hospital where I once worked. Technically, I'm on a leave of absence. I took FMLA when my Dad got sick...and then just changed the leave when my Dad's health worsened. 

From time to time, I still help them. Especially during RSV Season. I tried to convince a good friend of mine, to take a Part-Time RD job with them. But she is happily raising her daughters. I worked remotely from May 2020-July 2021. But my Mom was needing more and more help. By July she'd had two falls. And broken her arm multiple times. She know needed help bathing. I needed to do all the household chores. 

So naively, I thought I'd start working 6 months ago. Until my therapist raised the Red Flag of doom. That she didn't believe I was ready for work. Not only the stress. But it's not like I'm going to be behind a desk. Or dealing with numbers. Or cleaning. I'm going to have people's health and lives in my hands. She just didn't feel like I was ready.

In October I applied to volunteer. In the Hospital. It's a 5 minute drive from my home. I figured I could start with one day a week. See how everything goes. But that's not where they needed me. I ended up at the Hospital nearest the Cancer Center. Not with patients. But in the Gift Shop. Huh?

It's been OK. As my OCD has gotten worse, it has been a mixed blessing for the Gift Shop. I've torn it apart. Cleaned. Organized. I've decorated for every Holiday since I've been volunteering. In January, I started volunteering twice a week. When two of the volunteers got into a fight. 

For the last few weeks, I've been here three times a week. Because the other volunteers are struggling to get along. And they've taken some time off. Again, it's not the place where I want to be. I want to be making a real difference. Not staring at the walls. For 2 hours. Then having a big surge...of selling junk food. Then being bored and stocking shelves.

I know the employees value the Gift Shop being open daily. Especially since the cafeteria isn't always open. We're now open daily. For four hours. It's a steady thing. But last week, on my third day of the week being here. I decided to take a look at the Volunteer Listings. There's rarely anything at this location...that is available. Outside of the Gift Shop. So I started to read through all the listings.

I decided that maybe something clerical woud be good. I could do that for a few months. Then maybe move to something with the patients. I found something. Agreed to all the terms. Sent my necessary documents where they needed to go. And I got it. I was quite pleased with myself. Took all of 5 minutes. 

When I got home on Thursday, I decided to read through my emails. And I found the Volunteer email. I didn't realize it was for the Cancer Center. It's a clerical position. I honestly, don't have a clue what my duties are. The listings are pretty vague. Hence, I didn't know it was in the Cancer Center when I applied. 

It starts in May. I knew it was weekly. But I wasn't sure, how long it would be for. Turns out, 5 months. It also conflicts with one of my days in the Gift Shop. I knew that when I applied. But I'm OK with letting that go. Since my goal is to ultimately get back to work. The Gift Shop is not going to help with that. 

I truly hope that I do OK in this position. I'm hoping to also take a minor position at the Main Hospital. Reading to the NICU babies. That would be weekly as well. 4 hours too. I might try to start that one, later this month. Then if everything is going OK, by July, I'd like to talk to my therapist about going back to work again. Those are my goals to reclaiming my career. Little by little. 

He Has No Idea

In every way possible, yesterday was difficult. It had been a highly emotional week. Counseling had been extra difficult this week. Twice. I lost something so meaningful and important. I'm overwhelmed with #Sadmin. 

And my hormones are peaking. The joys of trying to get your health in check. But it's made the week challenging. I completely melted down in couseling...just because I had to walk by all the signs, pictures, and posters in the office. With all the babies. That I'll probably never have. Because I spent the prime of my life...taking care of my parents. And forgetting...I'd like to be married and have kids. And now...I'm close to 40. Single and childless. In the sea of grief. Barely keeping my head above water. 

Yesterday also marked 4 months since my Mom's passing. And although I can normally keep my emotions in check...yesterday was difficult all day! I decided to go on a long walk and make a stop at the Post Office. More paperwork for the insurance company. And on my way home...I stopped to visit my Aunt and Uncle. 

I don't know how 4 months has flown by. I can't express how this last month has been the hardest yet. I wrote down a list of 10 things...that I won't let myself do. At least for a year. Because I don't want grief to be the factor that pushes these things.

I've also written a list of goals. Things I want to do for me. It's so weird to not have anyone to be responsible for. To take care of. Or to check in with. It's both freeing...and crippling.

One thing I thought I would share too...I wasn't that close to my Mom growing up. In fact, we didn't really get along. My Mom carried a lot of childhood trauma. And pain from her first marriage. I know she missed my brother and sister a lot too.

My Dad was the one I was super close to. He was my ride or die. My role model. My protector. My best friend. And my confidant. After losing him in 2015...I knew my Mom needed me. In more ways than one. I became her protector at first. And over the next 7 years...we became best friends.

Those 7 years...mean so much to me. Oh God! I'm so grateful to have gotten to know her. Not just as a Mom. But as a real person. To have spent so much time together. I will cherish those memories forever. So if you are in a rough space with a parent...there is always hope. You just need to be willing to take that chance.

After a rough start to my week...I made the decision to change things. For myself. I put together 4 baskets of goodies. To deliver to Oncology, Radiation, and Nephrology. You can read about it here. 

I also wrapped some gifts. And headed out to deliver them too. A hat that I'd found labeled with my Mom's favorite MA's name. The pin with Dr. N's name. That I found in her jewelry box. And this amazing gift...

My Mom also had bought her favorite doctor, Dr. N a NM pin. Her words..."In case he ever leaves. Something for him to remember NM." It had 2 little chili peppers on it.

She'd asked me a number of times, if he wore hats. I'm not sure how I was supposed to know the answer to that question. But something tells me, my Mom was planning on giving him my Dad's hat collection. Baseball hats from all over the world. Or his Driving Caps. She had cleaned them all. Stacked them nicely. But I just can't part with them. I've actually been wearing a handful of them lately.

But there was a very special gift. This blanket. After my Mom's last oncology appointment...she asked me to take her to Walmart. I can honestly say it had been over a year since she'd last been. But I happily took her. She wandered around the store. Looked at clothes. Bought a few things. A dress for my cousin's wedding. Some other clothing items.

We picked up some of her favorite snacks. And yarn. She stood there searching through all the yarn. Debating colors. Feeling all of them. Debating what to buy. 

"What do you think HIS favorite colors are?" 

"WHO?"

"Dr. Stan. I'm going to make him a blanket. It will be good therapy for my arm. And I just want to make him something. I want him to know he is loved and appreciated."

In some ways, I think my Mom thought of my brother, when she thought of her doctor. I know she missed my brother so much. He passed suddenly and unexpectedly in 2018. Not only did she adore her doctor. But she'd always say things like..."I hope he isn't lonely. I hope he gets to see his family." I think she worried, because I guess they talked about him being far from his homeland. 

I used to really wonder if she saw him as one of her kids. Not in a weird way. But in a protective...motherly type of way. I'm pretty sure, age wise, he'd land somewhere between my brother and I. To be honest, there is 10 years between my brother and I. So that's a healthy assumption. And were my Mom didn't have my brother any longer, she could worry in a mom type of way, about her favorite doctor.

We ate lunch/dinner that day and went home. Got here close to 7PM. I knew she was exhausted. We'd been out much longer than we'd anticipated. That week...she had an appointment every single day. And then we went to run some sort of errand afterward. Something we never did. But she wanted to cram it all in that week. Before my cousin's wedding. And another round of chemo.

That night...we came home. She pulled out her crochet hook and started this blanket. In about 5 days...with all those appointments and a wedding...my Mom finished two thirds of the blanket. 

There are 3 things I remember so clearly about that week...

1. We watched an episode of the Resident. When the mom of one of the characters dies of cancer. My Mom cried. So hard. We didn't talk about it during the show. But when it ended...she looked at me and said...

"When I go, promise me that you'll continue to live. You won't give up. Or get consumed in grief. You'll find the love of your life. And you'll have my grandbabies. Please promise me that." My Mom had 3 kids. I'm the youngest...by 10 years. 

My Mom never had any grandchildren. Since her passing. I've found 10 boxes filled with baby and kid items. She wanted to be a grandma as bad as I want to be a mom. It breaks my heart...that she never got to experience this. And now with all my health issues, I wonder if it's my fate to be single and childless.

I had no words. What could I say? I cried so hard! And from that point on...had this nagging voice. In the back of my head. Wondering if she knew her time was near...

2. Another night we were watching Grey's Anatomy. When the married couple go into surgery together. She turns to me and says..."I know someone you can spend your life with. And you 2 could save lives too." She had this twinkle in her eyes. And I could only assume who she meant. 

"Will you ever tell him what you did before you took care of me and Dad?" The honest answer is...I don't know if I'll EVER tell him. Because how do I explain where I am now? How my life is so drastically different. How I feel like such a failure today.

And would he care. Outside of my Mom's care, would our path's have ever crossed. Would we have ever spoken. Would he have ever given me the time of day? So why would he care what my career used to be? He's the nicest guy. But I doubt he thinks about me in any capacity.

3. The latest thing I remember...how passionate my Mom was about this blanket. Like she was working against the clock. I spent that Sunday sleeping. Completely exhausted from the wedding! I woke up to my Mom having finished 2 colors. And having eaten my leftover tacos from the wedding. 😆

Tuesday she ended up in the ER after her bloodwork. All day. Then we came home. She slept most of Wednesday. But still worked on this blanket that evening. By Thursday...I was concerned again. She was worried too. And asked me to take her back to the ER.

I quickly showered. Fed the dogs. Threw a few things in a bag. And went to get my Mom. Who was carefully folding up this blanket and laying it on the corner of her bed. 

"Close the door Desiree. I don't want the dogs to lay on it. If I get admitted will you bring this to me? I don't want it to get messed up in the ER."

We had no idea what lay in front of us. Tuesday we had anticipated an admission. And were sent home right before midnight. My Mom didn't want to be admitted. But told me...she knew something wasn't right. I could never have imagined how things ended. 

But on that Thursday, she was determined she'd finish HIS BLANKET. Before winter. So he'd have something to keep him warm. And we left. I never once thought...that she wouldn't return. Or that her precious blanket wouldn't be finished. It sat on that corner of her bed for 3 months.

I'd cry when I saw it. I was angry. I still am. For various reasons. I think I skipped the sad part of grief. But every single day I'd pass by this blanket. Neatly folded. On her 3rd month anniversary...I decided to look at it. 

I picked it up. And neatly tucked under it were her notes. At the top...Stanley's blanket. And I just lost it. Sat there and cried like a baby. She had notes about what colors she was using. How many rows of each. Her crochet hook tucked into the blanket. The yarn in her closet. 

With a note at the bottom. "For Christmas. I hope he likes it. I want it to be comfortable for him. And keep him warm." I sat there and cried for an hour. 

It was hard for my Mom to write. She had a broken arm that wouldn't heal. Before that last appointment with her oncologist...she sat and wrote him a card. It took her almost a week. I'd find her working hard writing. Every day...she wrote something. I have no idea what she wrote to him. But I know she had bought him a pair of socks. One that I tried to convince her...to let me keep. Because they were NASA socks. And I'm a bit of a space geek. But in the end she handed him, her card and socks on that last day.

Funny how those last two appointments...he had a lot of time to just talk. We rarely used the entire appointment time. But those last 2 visits...we all just sat there talking. For the entire time. He was so relaxed. We talked about potentially changing my Mom's treatment. She asked him about his life. It was all just comfortable and easy.

So I can only imagine how long it took her to write that note. About the blanket. With all the directions. Her little comments. Under everything...I found, "Don't forget to make him biscochitos too." She worried that he didn't eat enough. That he was too thin. I tried to remind her, he was just healthy. Didn't she remember what I was like when I worked. 95 lbs soaking wet. You have to be in shape for this kind of job.

"Desiree he seems too thin. Like you were when you worked. Do you think he is single? That no one cooks for him. Or takes care of him. He should have someone to cook for him. All men need to be taken care of." You would have thought she was his mother. 

I used to silently wonder if my Mom was throwing hints my way. If she had lived...would she have tried to be our matchmaker? I know she wanted grandkids. But I also think my Mom worried about me. If I'd ever let anyone in. To love and take care of me. In her way, I think she was trying to do that here. Take care of both of us.

It took me a while to actually get myself together enough to work on the blanket. I went through a bunch of hooks...to match her stitch size. I sat down and would start crocheting...and all I'd do is cry. So there are lots of my tears in this blanket. 3 times, I fell asleep while working on it. And would wake up feeling at peace. Something I haven't had in years! 

I contemplated keeping the blanket. It's the last thing my Mom made. I don't have anything that she's made. Probably because I also crochet...my Mom never made me anything. And how special would that be. A blanket we both worked on. 

But no. She intended it for her Doctor. And I was determine to get it to him. On the day of the Queen's funeral...I got up in the middle of the night. And started working on it. It was done in 2 days. I snapped a picture and wrapped it up.

Later I hoped he doesn't have dogs or cats. Because they probably smell my dogs. Or I hope he or no one he lives with...is allergic to dogs. I didn't think of that. 

Before I walked into the office Thursday...I cried in the truck. Because as I'm slowly ticking off the boxes on my Mom's To-Do List...it's just a reminder that more and more pieces of her are leaving me. 

I honestly halfway hoped I'd see her doctor. To see his expression when he opened the gift. But also knew it would probably be too much for me to handle. A double edged sword.

So fast forward to yesterday. I was having a tough day. On another 12 mile walk. Because that brings me so much peace. And I stopped to visit my Aunt and Uncle. Part of this last month that I haven't discussed...is how I've isolated myself from others. Its just been hard to deal with everything. 

So I go walking. Solo. With the dogs. But every single day. I don't really see my family. Because they give me anxiety. I have 2 aunties and 2 cousins that I keep in touch with. Because my therapist told me to at least keep some line of communication open. To let people know I'm alive. So there is one on each side. 

But I felt like I needed to not be home yesterday. The house just closes in on me some days. Like on her anniversary. I was sitting and chatting with my Auntie when the phone rang.

I was so surprised to see the Oncology Office number. After 5PM. On A Friday. I excused myself. And went to sit outside. 

His familiar voice filling up the air. Peace taking over me. And that oh too familiar feeling of safety...and tears. I listened to him. I could swear he was fighting the tears as well. You could hear the emotion in his voice. Dr. N just has this very calm and soothing voice. And there is something about talking with him, that brings me peace. And makes me feel instinctively...safe.

The tears silently came like a waterfall. And I tried my hardest to keep my voice steady. So many things flashing through my mind. So many questions. So many things I wanted to say. But I couldn't get them out. I'm not great with words. I'm naturally a quiet and shy person. I find it really hard to open up. To make the thoughts in my brain...flow to the words coming out of my mouth.

I don't cry a lot. I really don't. This week has been an exception to the rule. I especially don't cry in front of people. I'm not sure why. Almost like I feel like I need to be brave and strong for everyone else.

But this man puts me at ease. I feel safe talking to him. And the emotions just bubbled up yesterday. After weeks of therapy...I'm learning that some people just do this. My therapist's words..."Some people connect with our souls. We have no idea why. But they make us feel safe. Find those people. Let them help to heal you."

Much like a conversation in June...I had so much to say. But didn't know how to say it. I honestly can't tell you what I managed to say. How it came out. Just that this conversation brought me so much peace. It wasn't long. But it brought me a peace that I've been yearning for.

I'm forever grateful to this man. He quietly snuck into out lives. After countless oncologists that my Mom had seen. None that she really trusted. He was just an unexpected blessing.  

Where I 100% trusted Dr. T...he was a lot for her to handle. I'd had the history with him...because he was my Dad's oncologist. And I was my Dad's caregiver. My Mom only saw him once while my Dad was sick. The man was loud, full of energy, and was aggressive in the way he communicated. 

All the Oncologists prior to him...my Mom hated. Dr. S...my Mom just didn't like her. I'll admit she was very cold. And barely spoke to us. All the doctors at the other Cancer Center had been horrible too. We'd seen 9 doctors in 9 months. You were just a number in their little Cancer Machine.

But Dr. N. He made some sort of impression on my Mom. He brought comfort to my life. Suddenly I didn't have to worry about everything. We had a doctor that was taking care of the bits he was supposed to. And my Mom was comfortable around him. She trusted him. And really was happy to let him lead her care. 

That first meeting between them...I had to stay in the car. Because of #COVID19. My Mom came out of that appointment practically walking on clouds. "Wait until you meet him! He's wonderful. I trust him with my entire life. Desiree I have a good feeling about this."

I can still see her smiling face. She was so excited! I was impressed that they called me on the phone. And I still got to be part of the appointment. We'd never had a doctor do that before. Or someone that knew our names the minute they saw us. I was completely shocked. In the best of ways.

He again shocked me when my Mom was admitted to the hospital last summer. And on our first full day there...he came walking through the door.  All smiles. And before you ask...yes we were all masked up. But some people's smiles reach their eyes. Their entire face just lights up. He's one of them.

I'll never forget his bedside manner. How he always talked to my Mom. Got down on her level. Even if it meant he knelt on the ground. Looked her straight in the eyes. Made her a part of the conversation. Made sure she understood everything he was explaining to her. To me...that shows his character. 

I was a caregiver for 12 years. I worked in the medical field prior to that...for 10 years. Trust me when I say...this is unusual. He made both of us feel at ease. We could ask any question, at anytime. 

Frequently when we went to appointments I'd sit in the chairs behind him. While my Mom sat next to him. So I could read the computer. Back to...do I think he knew what I did before? Maybe. It was a purposeful decision for me. So I could read the reports as he pulled them up. I'd also very consciously edit how I talked to him. Don't let too much medical garb...fall out your mouth. 

What I will tell you is. I'm grateful to this man. He put my Mom at ease. She enjoyed her visits with him. Didn't second guess tests or treatments that he recommended. She was 100% at ease with her doctor.

For me...I was confident that my Mom was getting the best possible care. He may have been new to the Office. But I was so comfortable with him being the person...that took care of my Mom. I trusted everything he recommended. Much like nephrology...I never had to second guess him.

Along the way, I started to feel motivated to go back to work. To pursue more education. Something about THIS doctor...lit a flame under me. When my Dad passed away...I started to get curious about oncology. What would it take to pursue this career? I once had a talk with Dr. T about this...

But when Dr. N came into our lives...he really got me interested in THIS field again. In working. In making a difference in other people's lives. There is just something about the way he cares for his patients. 

On this side of things...I've really become interested. I reached out to my almamater. Received the packet of information. Talked with my old supervisor. Who was so excited! And encouraged me to go for it. He said I have a solid skill set...to build on. Explained that my time working in the ICU and my personal experience with cancer...had the potential to make me really good at this field. 

In some ways, I'd like to reach out to Dr. N...to just pick his brain a bit. About the field. The educational process. What it's really like. But then I'm like...these guys have enough on their plates. They're always busy. But that gut feeling...is pushing me towards the field. 

When I talked with my old supervisor, he recommended I speak with the Cancer Center's director. Ask about potentially shadowing one of the physicians. For a week or so. Both in the office and in the hospital. See what they really do. If I am ready for this. If it's something I want to do. To see if this is a good fit for me. But I'm nervous about talking to anyone from the office. It's something that I really want. So I need to be brave enough, to reach out to one of the doctors.

The way I see it. I have no responsibilities right now. I mean after I settle the Estate...my life is completely open. I have a blank page to fill up. I'm not married. I have no kids. No real pull to take me back to my previous career. Why not start fresh? Why not take 12 years of heartache and pain...and turn them into something positive?

There are a few things keeping me on the fence. I promised myself to not do 10 big things in this first year. Because I'm positive they'd be motivated by grief...and not by logic. There's the money. God why is school so expensive? I wouldn't mind the move back to Texas. But the money for school. And honestly my age. Is 40 too old to start a new career path? That would require years of education...

These are probably my biggest fears. And the real reason I'd like to talk with an oncologist. Maybe if I was braver...I'd call the office. Offer to buy Dr. N lunch or dinner. And then spend an hour or 2...asking all the questions that are floating around my brain. Until then...Mom, Dad, and God...please keep guiding me.

Also God...Thank You for Dr. N. I'm positive that I would have lost my mind without him. I know he gave my Mom the best care. We always knew her time with Cancer was limited. But you sent us on angel on Earth. For that alone, I will get on my knees every single night. To Thank You God. You knew who we needed. And exactly at the right time. Please keep him safe and healthy...so he can help many more families. 💜

The Day My World Changed Forever

Tuesday came out of nowhere. Things had been relatively quiet Monday night. It's the first night I'd slept...since Friday? Our night nurse was an angel. I remember hearing her and my Mom around 3AM. My Mom was walking back to bed. Everything seemed pretty normal. As normal as you can get in the hospital.

We were up around 6AM. Prepping for my Mom's bone marrow biopsy. I'd been trying to talk her out of it. I didn't feel like it was necessary. Not at this point. Maybe we could wait. Until she was stronger. Or felt better. But she was still able to make her own decisions. So we had to let her. 

By 9AM she was having a lot of pain. I had been asking for hours, to speak with the oncologist on duty. I just felt like I needed a second opinion. Was my Mom dying? Was there something I could do? Was she just sick? And needed some help?

I managed to take a shower. And while I was in the shower, PT came around. My Mom was so exhausted! It took everything out of her to sit up. Then stand up. Take a few steps. And lay back down. The pain was unreal as well.

Everything started happening so quickly after that. PT was recommending her to go to an Impatient Rehab facility. PT and the Hospitalist were thinking Thursday would be a good day to transfer her. Because it had been a holiday weekend, we hadn't seen many of the people we should have. All the referrals were suddenly happening at once. Her Hospitalist came to see her. And noticed how different she was too.

Then the Bone Marrow Biopsy Team came in like a rush of bulls. Started prepping everything. No one had time to talk to me. I just didn't feel right about this. And my Mom's pain was getting worse. She hadn't really eaten in days. It was taking everything in her, to eat the small amounts she was managing. And that was only because I was feeding her. 

I know the drill when it comes to BMBs. I've been there for every single one she's had. As time has gone on, they've gotten more and more difficult to do. Mostly because my Mom's bones were getting so brittle. So it takes a bit longer than normal. She was in pain. We didn't have the normal doctor that she was used to.

Eventually, the doctor asked me to help. He was on the opposite side of the bed. His nurse was behind him. And someone that they were training was at the foot of the bed. He was a big guy. But completely overwhelmed by what was happening. He honestly looked like he might pass out at any moment. So I tried to comfort my Mom. I talked to her. Held her as still as I could. And watched...

The doctor was having such a difficult time getting a sample. He asked me a bunch of questions. I told him as much as I could. Eventually, after 90 minutes? He got what he thought was a good enough sample. Then the bleeding wouldn't stop. And they started calling the Oncology and ICU teams...

It was a lot to deal with. My Mom was crying in agony. Her abdomen was hurting her. We were having to keep pressure on the insertion point. I even had to help with that. While the team met outside the room to talk. And try to find some sort of bandage to assist with the bleeding. On top of all of this...we had to keep her as still as possible.

I don't know how long it took. I think the BMB Team was with us for about 3 hours. Eventually, the bleeding slowed. My Mom was given a gigantic amount of pain meds. That weren't helping. The fear in her eyes. Gosh, I can't get that imagine out of my mind. It's so hard to deal with. And to hear her cries. 

Eventually that team left. I asked the nurse again...if I could speak with someone from Oncology. I was sincerely considering...calling Dr. N. In his office. I was starting to get desperate. We hadn't seen anyone from Oncology. And my Mom had been at the hospital 6 days. I just needed to know...if it was time to just make her comfortable.

About this time, Dr. W came to see us. I think he could tell I was so stressed out. On the brink of a breakdown. The tears were only being held back, by pure prayers. Dr. W listened to me. And I to him. We looked at my Mom's chart. And her medical wishes. And determined that it was time for Hospice. He was sure, she wouldn't make it home. But figured we could get her to the Hospice Unit at the hospital. And that my Mom might have a couple of days. 

He hugged me. And for the first time, I cried. The stress of the weekend, finally broke me. To be honest, I had wished that we had been there a week earlier. Because Dr. N had been working in the hospital. Maybe I would have had a clearer mind. Just knowing I could have asked him anything. He was familiar with my Mom. Someone that I would have felt comfortable, having these tough discussions with. I also sincerely missed being in the Oncology Unit. Where I felt safe. Because the staff makes you feel safe.

As Dr. W left to go write the orders. So we could be moved in a couple of hours...I walked back into the room. Still shocked. So this was it? My Mom was dying. I didn't know how to deal with all of that news. My sister called. We'd been playing phone tag. The nurse came to check the bandage. Which needed to be changed for the 3rd time in about an hour. Obviously, the bleeding was still an issue...

I walked into the bathroom to talk to my sister. All of a sudden, I heard all this noise. And basically hung up on her. I walked out to the nurse in a bit of a panic. Trying to get my Mom's pulse. She had monitors on her ears, toes, and both hands. She called the Charge Nurse. They basically had my Mom upside down at this point. And everyone was trying to keep their cool. But I knew. I knew what was happening. I just felt it in the pit of my stomach...

I stepped out of the room. To let the staff work. To try and calm myself. I knew what was happening. But I didn't know how to process it. I walked to the area where the two towers meet. Sat down and looked outside. My cousin had text to see how things were going. I just wrote back. "It's so bad. Please let your mom know to come ASAP." I walked back into our unit. It's all just steps from my Mom's room, to this bench I was sitting on. And on the unit I sat on the little bench at the end of the hallway. Watching people running in and out of her room. Seeing all the chaos. And not knowing what to do. 

I was alone in that moment. And I knew I was about to be alone in this world. I knew that I was losing my Mom. Way too early in her life. She had so much life to live. And there was absolutely nothing I could do to help her. 

At this point, I see her Hospitalist running into her room. The doors fly open. The crash cart is being wheeled to her room. There is a nurse plugging it in. And I ran as fast as I could. The paddles were coming out. And I physically put myself between them and my Mom. I pleaded with the team to stop. To just stop. They were no longer doing my Mom any good.

Shaking. And with tears streaming down my face...I begged them to stop. I explained to the doctor, that Dr. W and I had decided to put my Mom on Hospice. And that he was putting the orders in. The Team looked at me...with pitty and horror. But they stopped. They tried to make my Mom comfortable. And tried to make the room as normal as they could.

Dr. U talked to me. That Hospice was no longer an option. That maybe the BMB was too much. But they'd provide Comfort Care. And he'd remain at the hospital, as long as my Mom was alive. I knew we didn't have much time. I knew it. Not just because of what I witnessed from my Mom. But because of the look in his eyes. The tone in his voice. And honestly...what doctor tells you they'll stay until the end. If the end is not near?

My Mom's nurse and doctor came in with meds. To make her comfortable. I asked if my Aunts and Uncles could come in. Would we be restricted to visitors? They assured me, we'd be OK. And they went to get the priest for us. By the time my Aunts and Uncle got there, the priest was there too. We'd just seen him.

I think he was as shocked as I was. He spoke with us. Tried to help us find some peace, as my Mom transitioned. Gave us suggestions of things to hold onto. We prayed. And after he left, I put on some religious music for my Mom. Sat by her bed. Held her hand. And prayed. 

I didn't want to be selfish. I wanted my Mom to be comforted at this time. I needed to be strong. To be with her. As scary as it was. As ill prepared as I was. As suddenly as it all happened. I wanted my Mom to be comfortable. And surrounded by peace and love.

We'd talked off and on. About her final wishes. She wanted everything done, to live. Except being put on machines for an extended period of time. She didn't want to suffer the same way my Dad did. She wanted to live. But only if she could live a life. I prayed that I was making the best decisions for her. Doing things the way she had wished. And not because I didn't want my Mom to die.

There were so many things we were supposed to have done. Places to visit. Things to experience. My Mom was supposed to be a Grandma at some point. There were so many more conversations we were supposed to have had. But in those moments, I couldn't think of any of it.

Around 5PM, my cousin came in. And in that moment, my Mom passed. We saw her take her last breath. After a few moments, we called the nurse. And she let the doctor know. Shortly, he came to exam my Mom. And to confirm what we knew...

It was a lot to bare. I left my Aunts, Uncles, and cousins with my Mom. And went back to that bench. I needed to call the Mortuary. All the big decisions. Who to use? What exactly did I need to do? I couldn't remember from 7 years prior. I finally made the call. Let the Charge Nurse know. I sent texts. Made phones calls. Barely kept it together. I don't even remember how I told my sister. I honestly don't. But I know I let her know.

At some point, my family came to tell me Goodbye. And I went to go back to my Mom. I spoke with the nurses. Who were going to clean my Mom's body and prepare her. They asked if I wanted her socks and jewelry. Was there anything they could do for me?

There are no words to express how difficult this was. How alone I felt. The staff was amazing. Dr. U kept his word. Stayed at the hospital. At the desk outside my Mom's room. I can still remember seeing him, when I left that night. My Mom's nurse stayed past Shift Change. They gave me time with my Mom. Alone. They packed up our belongings. All the snacks they'd brought us earlier in the day. Boxes and boxes of tissues. The Night Nurse came and sat with me. Let me cry. Assured me, they'd be there. If and when I needed anything. That night. In the future. Whenever I needed them. 

Eventually, the Mortuary came. Gave me some time with my Mom, after they had prepared her for transport. They gave me some meaningful gifts. And all the information I'd need in the coming days. And they were gone. They'd taken my Mom. And I was alone.

I sat in that empty room. Not sure which way was up. Not knowing how to put one foot in front of the other. Had I been stupid? Blind? In denial? Had my Mom been that sick? Did this all just happen this quick? I still don't have those answers. And probably never will. 

What I do know is, I'll never forget my Mom. I'll always think of her in this way. Full of life. Ready for adventure. And so excited to be in nature and surrounded by animals. We didn't have a perfect relationship. In fact, we didn't really get close until my Dad's passing. 7 years. Doesn't seem like it was long enough.

I feel like I could have done so much more. Made her life so much better. In so many ways, I feel like I failed my Mom. I tried so hard every single day. But it never felt like it was enough. Maybe we just never got past losing my Dad. But I feel like I could have done more. Been more. Provided a better life for her.

It's all hard. I don't know which way to turn first. I spent nearly all night on the phone. Once I got home Tuesday. Talking to an amazing family friend. And maybe got 2 hours of sleep. I took the dogs out on a long walk yesterday morning. And spoke with the Mortuary. But it was just a day of being alone. I needed it. Our dogs needed it. My soul needed it. 💜

Still the Best View

Can we start with...this has been a wild 24 hours. And not in a good way. I'm emotionally spent. My Mom was so down last night. I keep asking myself, am I in denial? Are things way worse, than what I am seeing?

But first, let's start with the good stuff. We had the most amazing ER nurse! Sometime around 2AM, he came into my Mom's room with a recliner. Sheets, blankets, and pillows. And for the first time ever, I had some decent sleep in the ER. 

To be honest, he was just a dream. Worked with the pharmacy to get meds. Let us sleep. And when the phlebotomist couldn't draw blood, he did it. So kind and gentle. I really appreciate good nurses. Martin was top tier.

This morning we woke up to this beautiful view. I mean, it never gets old. The best part of this hospital, is the view. The spectacular view. We've watched the hot air balloons go up for over an hour now. Some are starting to land. But it's a gorgeous sight! And the best way to start our morning. 

Yesterday was just rough. We hadn't seen a single doctor all day. Around 4:45PM a Hospitalist finally showed up. She seemed a bit annoyed. Is it me, or all Hospitalist like this? And honestly she seemed ready to go home. Like my Mom was an inconvenience for her. Then the tuff talk began...

Telling my Mom she needed to update her Code Status. That this is the end. And there is really no reason for CPR and/or machines. I mean, it basically sent my Mom in a downward spiral. She was so upset! Understandably so. And my Mom wouldn't back down.

Eventually, the lady left. And I struggled to get my Mom's spirits back up. But it's had me wondering. Is it really the end? Is she so much worse than we think? Is there no hope? I would think we would be having this sort of conversation with Oncology. Like if they feel like things are this bad, wouldn't one of them come to talk to us? Why put her through another bone marrow biopsy? 

End of life care and talk, should be a gentle topic. It should be something, you do with lots of grace. Have some care and compassion. This lady, basically walked in the room, pulled up my Mom's chart, and started the entire...you should just die speech. I 100% mean, she hadn't seen my Mom's chart until that minute. And immediately went into this conversation. 

I was basically speechless. I know we are definitely here until Tuesday. My Mom has a bedside BMB scheduled. I'm tempted to call Oncology, just to have a little chat. I NEED to know what's going on. What I should be preparing for. Like what the heck is going on?

By last night, my Mom was spent and went to bed. I just sat here wondering if I'm in denial. Is it worse than I think? I mean I lived through everything with my Dad. Am I missing a piece here? Just left with a lot of questions. That I hope to have answered. Between, my Mom seems to be doing much better. Had a much better night last night. 💜

We're Back

Pretty sure, I saw this coming since Tuesday night. But we're back. My Mom basically slept all day yesterday. I got her up, long enough to take her medications. And to eat a few bites of a breakfast burrito. I've been worried. To say the least.

Earlier she had a coughing fit, and couldn't catch her breath. Then she asked me to bring her to the ER. I called the Oncology nurse. Who promptly told me to get her to the ER. She'd be waiting to hear from me. Or she'd call 911 to meet us somewhere. Off we went.

Today I got to wait inside with my Mom. The ER was much busier. So we waited a bit longer. But still safely in the Oncology Corner. Honestly, I think my Mom's appearance is what allowed me to wait with her today. Again, they started off with X-rays. Around 5:30PM, I left to call my Auntie. To let her know what was happening. Then the new staff wouldn't let me back into the ER.

All was good. I took a walk. Updated family. Snapped a few pictures. And ultimately found a chair to sit on and read my book. But OMG it was HOT out there! I happened to get a chair right outside the employees door. So I was grateful every time it opened and blasted me with cold air. At shift change, that was quite nice.

At 6:30PM, I looked into the Waiting Room and didn't see my Mom. So I called the ER and found out she had gotten a room. An ER doctor came almost immediately and let us know, they'd be admitting my Mom. Because it was obvious she was having trouble breathing. The doctor could also hear crackling in her right lung. 

They started fluids, some meds, and electrolytes. It's looking like a new strain of the flu and the earliest signs of pneumonia. My Mom has had it before. So it was kind of likely to happen again. Even with her vaccine.

And because business is booming...we'll be spending the night in the ER. With Nemo starring at me. And a bed made out of 2 chairs. More than likely oncology won't have a room until tomorrow around lunchtime. But as long as my Mom is getting the care she needs, I don't care. 

I snuck off to grab some food around 9:30PM. Learned my lesson on Tuesday. But I missed the next doctor. The hospitalist. The nurse filled me in. By the way, he's awesome! We've never had such a great nurse before.

I had dinner. My Mom had half a milkshake and a little bit of a fish sandwich. But hey. That's more than she's eaten in 48 hours. So we'll call it a win. I also managed to bring a sweatshirt today. My tablet, a book, a crochet project, chargers, and my vitamins. I'm calling it a win. Because the last few days feel like a blur. Off to catch a little sleep. Hopefully. With Nemo and Dory watching over us. 💜

 

Blood Draw to ER

Today started off normally. My Mom needed to go for a normal oncology blood draw. To see if she'd start chemo tomorrow. It had already been delayed because of her counts. The nurse asked me to take her early in the day. Because her doctor isn't in the office. So they'd like the results earlier in the day. But something wasn't right...

Usually I just grab my small purse. Or even, just my driver's license. And we run to the Main Hospital. All of 5 minutes from our home. 10 if there's traffic. But something didn't seem right. So I grabbed my phone, charger, and a book. 

My Mom had not been feeling well since Sunday night. We 100% thought it was her tooth. But this morning she just wasn't feeling great. And was acting out of sorts. Once in the lab, I knew something was wrong. And I called the oncology office. The nurse asked me to take her into the ER. 

Not the ER in the hospital we were at. But the hospital that has the Cancer Center. So off we went. Across town. And we got there in about 20 minutes. The nurse called me almost as soon as we pulled into the parking lot. To make sure we had gotten there safely. Because she was waiting to call 911 if I needed help. If I haven't said it enough...I'm so grateful for this team!

And because of protocol...I stayed in the car after I helped my Mom check in. A little tip here...call the office first. They call ahead to the ER and you jump the line a bit. I think I might have sat in the car about 90 minutes before they had settled my Mom in an ER room. Which was amazing. I heard other people saying that they had been waiting for 4+ hours. I spent my time watching a show.

During that time, they did every test known to man. My Mom had scans. Went for multiple X-rays. Got fluids. And nothing. Not really anything out of place. My Mom is doing better. Because earlier she couldn't walk. And was super confused. But I'm just speechless. How is nothing wrong?

My Mom's oncologist happens to be working at the hospital this week. So the ER doctor called him to consult. And because they really can't find anything wrong, they're sending her home. Which I agree with. But honestly...it's so weird that they can't find anything wrong. Don't you think?

The ER doctor prescribed an antibiotic. In case it's her tooth. They gave her one dose here. And sent the prescription to the pharmacy about 90 minutes ago. My Mom has a dentist appointment on Friday. We'll still have to consult with oncology if they need to do anything major. 

So we'll be heading home in a bit. And I hope my Mom starts to feel better. She hasn't been eating. And has just not been herself since Sunday morning. That's what alarms me. But at least they've run all the tests. And it's nothing major. 

On a side note, I haven't eaten all day. Didn't take my vitamins. Almost froze to death. Because I was not prepared to be here. I usually have a bag in the car. With basics. Chargers, snacks, a book, a crochet project, and a sweatshirt. I also used to carry a small overnight bag, with basic essentials. But things had been going pretty well. And I took everything out of the car. I need to put those bags back in tomorrow. You just never know... 💜

 

Love Yourself

This week more than any other week, has made me realize how important self-care is. It's more than a slogan or silly catch phrase. It is what will carry you through your journey. Over the long haul.

This is my second time being a full time caregiver. Basically I've been at this since December 2010. Before that...it wasn't full time. But still an active part of my life. I know there are a ton of tough days. There are lots of days when we struggle as caregivers. Lots of days, when I know we'll be tired from doctor's appointments, hospital stays, and treatment days. I know this. I've walked this journey before.

I also know, lots of people will offer support. But when you get down to it...it will just be me. These are the days, when I truly hate that I never found a life partner. Like why couldn't I have found a husband or at least a boyfriend somewhere? At sometime...in this journey. To help shoulder some of this? But I'm here. And I have to do the best I can. 

From experience I need to give myself grace. And know that some days, I might not cook every meal. Or the laundry might pile up. I might not get to mop the floor. Because my Mom's needs are more immediate. Or that I just don't get to the grocery store. I know there will be days that showering her is more important than bathing the dogs. Or even myself. 

I've been here. Walked this journey before. I know there will be days when yardwork isn't done. When we go to appointments, and I've barely managed to brush my teeth and wash my face. I know there will be those days, when I just want to cry. I've been there. I've lived that.

But I also know, I need to take care of myself. I need to stop and say, I need 5 minutes too. Here at the hospital, I've made sure to take a few minutes each morning. I ask for a towel and a washcloth. And I go shower. Change my clothes. That is for me. I can cry. I can take care of my needs. Most of all, it's 5 minutes of just quiet.

People always ask me, how do you find time to practice self care in the hospital? I find at sunrise, my Mom is super tired. They wake her around 3AM for blood draws. Between 4 and 5AM, they check her vitals and she goes to the restroom. So I sneak out for 30 minutes or so. Walk around the hospital. Take my phone to capture the sunrise, any animals I see, and the beautiful plants. Just being outside, fuels my soul. 

During the day, I try my hardest to leave the room 2-3 times. It's usually for 10-15 minutes. It may sound crazy, but I run up and down the 6 flights of stairs in the building we're in. It started as a coping mechanism when my Dad was in the hospital. We were usually on the 5th floor. I'd run up 2 flights, and down 9. Until I couldn't breathe. Now we're at the sister hospital. And there's only 6 flights. So I run 4 times. Top to bottom. I do that twice a day. I find it helps with the nerves. And any weird feelings. 

A normal person would probably walk down the stairs for whatever errands they need to run. Going to the bathroom, cafeteria, or leaving the hospital. My friend Jessica does this. Then she uses the elevator to go back up. A little bit of exercise...because we spend a lot of time...well, taking care of someone else. 

I also make it a point to eat one good meal. every single day. Whether it's lunch in the hospital. I really enjoy a good hospital meal. Or picking something up between quick visits home. In fact the other day, I bought a big salad and a sandwich. Because we have a refrigerator in the room...it turned into 5 meals. I keep healthy snacks on hand too. Bottles of water. And also one treat on hand. For me, that's a dark chocolate bar.

As caregivers, we forget to love ourselves. We forget to take care of ourselves. We forget that we need time for ourselves too. Even someone like me. Who is doing this alone. You just need to make time for yourself. 5 minutes is enough to fuel the tank. And sometimes, honestly, 5 minutes of peace and quiet is all you need. Taking care of yourself, will only make you a better caregiver. I repeat that...Taking care of you, will make you a better caregiver for them. 💜

Sometimes We Crack

To be honest, I thought I was going to meltdown today. The Hospitalist came in. Had a very serious look on his face. And told me to sit down. He had some serious things to talk about. I literally thought I was going to throw up. 

It's hard going through another Cancer Journey. Having the history with my Dad can be good and bad. It prepares us for what's next. But then...we sort of know what's coming next. It's like having Cancer PTSD. Is that a thing? 

So there is this spot on the base of my Mom's head. Where your head sits on your spine. She's going to need a Lumbar Puncture. My Mom is so anxious about everything. And doesn't want to talk about anything. It makes me nervous. And she doesn't seem 100% after yesterday. So I pray everything is going to be OK.

There is still no concrete reason for such a high white blood count. The oncologist and the doctor that performed the bone marrow biopsy both told us her cancer is accelerating. But not active enough to be concerned. But Dr. Iggy gets me all nervous.

Tells me it's the cancer. And there is probably a lymphoma along with her 2 leukemias. Her brain bleed looks to be improving. As do her kidneys. But there is just so much. And then I look across the courtyard...and remember it hasn't yet been 2 years...since she almost died. Here. In the ICU.

I know how precious life is. I've watched my Dad as he crossed over. I've watched my Mom fight...for nearly 5 years now. I know...anything can happen. But it's a lot to bare. All by myself. Especially when my Mom's anxiety was so high. The MRI here...just totally struck something in her. And last night was so rough. Her anxiety after Dr. Iggy's visit got worse. And the anticipation of another test...has her near the edge.

Her oncologist came to visit her. He calmly explains the lumbar puncture to her. Tries to reassure her. He gets down to her level. To really talk to her. Look her in the eyes. It's so reassuring to her. It calms me down. Because I know he really does care.

After he left, my Mom was doing a bit better. But still super anxious. Then the nurse and I tried to get her to lay on her side. Trying to get her to her stomach. The nerves got worse. Her pain got worse. Dr. Iggy said she had to have this test. Emotions were high.

I told the nurse I was going to the bathroom. In reality, I sat in the stairwell and cried. And that's OK. Sometimes you have to let the feelings out. You need to just feel what is going on. I like to do it away from my Mom. So she doesn't see when I'm struggling. I want her to lean on me.

It's just been an emotional day. Soon we'll try again. And see if she can get on her belly. For the 30 minutes they'll need her to. She is so strong. I know she can do it. And because I know she can do it...I know I can remain strong for her. Because honestly, she doesn't really have anyone else to lean on. So I have to be strong. 💜

Grateful

I can't think of any other word. Grateful just seems appropriate. We had the BEST tech yesterday. She went over and beyond. Changed all the bedding. Helped me shower my Mom. Got me linens. So I could shower. Even made sure no one came to our room...so I didn't have to rush in the shower. Made sure I had everything I needed to nap. 

Renee checked on us all day. Emptied the hat...because they've been monitoring my Mom's output. She brought fresh ice water every couple of hours. Took the food trays promptly. Emptied the trash. And when my Mom started to be really nauseous...she tried everything to help her and calm her.

Last night we got another really good tech. And an outstanding nurse. I stay at the hospital at night...to help as much as possible. Because I personally know both sides. And if I can help take my Mom to the restroom, make her comfortable, or help her eat...why not? It frees everyone else up...for the patients that need more care.

But our nurse last night...was on it! She didn't let the IV pump beep more than twice before she was in the room. She stayed ahead of my Mom's pain. Was so super quiet and attentive. After 1AM....she was the one taking my Mom to the bathroom. So I could rest.

This morning we found out...they were short staff last night. But you would have never known. She was so good at her job. And going over and above. My heart was so grateful. She didn't make my Mom feel bad...because she needed pain meds. Or wanted jello at 3AM. Or when she asked for new socks. Jessica was so happy to help.

Today we have 2 other amazing people. Shawn was a tech 7 years ago when my Dad was in the hospital. He is so good! I learned so many tricks from him. On how to take care of my Dad. Things that made it easier for both my Dad and I. He's a great guy. And our nurse Megan...she seems amazing! Came in with the best attitude. 

I'm so grateful when you get people like this on your team. Honestly all day yesterday, we felt like they were trying to throw us out. The Hospitalist wanted to know why the nephrologist wouldn't OK the MRI. Because it's the only thing keeping us here. And apparently, they need the bed. It seemed as though there was a bit of a difference of opinion going on. But Christine doesn't back down to anyone. She has been a great addition to our team. Whenever I'm feeling uncertain about something...I ALWAYS ask Christine. I really value her opinion. 

Today I am just grateful for these amazing people. Along with my Mom's oncologist, her physical therapists, and the cardiac team. They take the edge off of things. Like I don't have to second guess what's going on. We've had them on our team for so long. We've been through so much. It just feels right. I can breathe and let them do their jobs. I can take a few days, to just be. To be attentive to my Mom's needs. And not be worrying about her care. I'm so grateful for these people, that God has put on our path. 💜

Love Caregivers 💜

Hi guys! My name is Desiree. And I'm a caregiver. It's been a full time job...for nearly 10 years. First, I cared for my Dad. Until his passing in 2015. It was over 5 years of the toughest times in my life. But I would not change that time...even if I could. To be with him, when he needed me the most...was life changing.

In 2016, my Mom was diagnosed with cancer as well. And instead of heading home like planned...I stayed to take care of my Mom too. Some would think, this time around would be easier. But it hasn't been. There are plenty of challenges, that I face on a daily occurrence. I have more knowledge of how the system works, what to expect, and how to navigate through it all. But it's just as challenging.

I started the Love Caregivers part of our foundation, in 2015. When we began our foundation. I knew from experience...just how difficult and lonely it is to be a caregiver.

Caregiver: A caregiver or informal caregiver is an unpaid and without formal training, member of a person's social network who helps them with activities of daily living. Caregiving is most commonly used to address impairments related to old age, disability, a disease, or a mental disorder.

By definition, you know it's going to be tough. But I don't think anyone REALLY knows how difficult the journey is going to be. I know I didn't. At all! Even though, we helped take care of plenty of relatives before.

As part of the Love Caregivers movement, for the past 5 years I've been sending out cards, care packages, and giftcards...to caregivers and children of sick families. I began my work, in my Dad's hospital room. After years of connecting, with other caregivers.

I knew firsthand, how tough long stays in the hospital could be. How lonely, the long weeks at home would become. And how not many people, really understood what I was going through.

During my Dad's last year of life, we joined a Support Group. At our Cancer Center. It was life changing! And I'd strongly suggest, you to do the same. Once a week, we'd meet at the Cancer Center. My Dad was never too thrilled. But immediately following his diagnosis, we were asked to attend. The doctors in our Cancer Center really know, how to take care of the entire family.

My Dad, Mom, and I would go. His doctor noticed his resistance. And immediately started scheduling his appointments, to coincide with the Support Group. The meetings were about 2 hours long. They provided lunch. Only patients and their caregivers were allowed.

And it was a completely safe place. To discuss everything. From diagnosis, to treatment, to end of life care. Patients could talk to each other about what they were going through. Caregivers could support one another. And all of our team (doctors, nurses, PT, PT, psychologists, therapists, financial representatives, insurance people, etc.) would attend. Each week, one of them would lead a small discussion.

It was a life changing experience. There is no other way to put it. These people, became my safety net. And after my Dad's death, I still attended for a few months. They supported me through my grief. And I was a wealth of knowledge...for people on this journey. While my Mom worked, I would go to the meetings. It saved my life. And me from having a breakdown.

With all of this, I realized the need for a safe space. To talk. To go to for answers. To be supportive. That's where this space was born from. I started on Facebook. And chatted with people through email. But I see the need for this space.

In 2020, I want to blog more often. Talk about the topics and questions, that I receive. I feel like, so many families are looking for answers. And I can give you, some of the things I've learned along the way. The tough stuff. The financial stuff. The emotional stuff.

If you have questions, please feel free to leave me a comment, send me an email, or reach out to me on social media. I want to be part of your safety net. And I'm here to tell you, whatever your journey is...you will get through it. There might be bumps in the road...but you will make it. 💜