Sunday, January 20, 2013
A Rosier View. . . .
Although my Mother's cancer seems to be reaching a point at which the benefits of chemotherapy are so small as not to be worth its damages to cognition and memory, my siblings and their families have been remarkable in their immediate care for her. She's managing to keep some food down again, which is a relief, and she even got out for a little walk yesterday, after a week in bed. She's rarely been left alone, partly a result of a flurry of e-mails setting up a schedule. After my brother advised us of the results of the latest check-up, two sisters immediately claimed the first two nights' care, and made suggestions for what would be needed over the next while. My brother-in-law arranged an on-line Granny calendar, my sister-in-law, a wonderful nurse, oversaw the new meds and put some good nursing practices in place. Another brother-in-law helped his wife, my sister, arrange the purchase and delivery of a new bed for the guest room as we probably won't be leaving Mom on her own now, and the old guest bed was pretty gnarly!
With six daughters and two sons (all with amazingly supportive spouses who also love and care for my mom) living within a 15-minute drive, Mom is reaping the benefits of all those tough years of raising a large family. We've done this once before when my father danced the cancer dance (I really, really hate that battle metaphor, just hate it!). It draws some families together, and we've been lucky that it works that way for us. Already, I've seen so many examples.
Meanwhile, back on the island, I've spent a weekend feeling very sorry for my cough-wracked self, struggling between naps to get a first set of essays marked AND to reread Shelley's "Adonais" so that I can introduce it to students on Monday.
Can I admit to you that part of me wants to whine, "It's not fair"? I don't want to work AND feel sick at the same time. If I'm being sick, I want to be reading mystery novels or doing a little knitting . . . at the very least, finishing the weekend papers. . . .
Another part of me is too tired (and yes, perhaps a mite depressed) even to whine; she finds it hard to muster the energy to do anything.
But the part of me that's a grown-up (and she's shrunk considerably this week, I have to say) knows that considering how very unfair life can be, I've got it pretty good. While I reserve my right to whine or to sink into a fatigue fog, I'm working on counting my blessings. . . .
To that end, besides writing this post. I also showered, washing my hair, and dressing in Non-Pyjamas! I finished up a small knitting project, proving to myself that I CAN find time for my own stuff, even if work dominates the weekend. . .
Knowing that this post is an effort of will, a determination to at least acknowledge the positive, I hope you'll accept its ramblings. Here, I'll sweeten the pot with a photo that helped me count my blessings yesterday when it arrived on my cellphone, along with a text from my daughter saying that Hattie sent her Love to help Nana feel better. . . .
Wishing you blessings and rosy views . . . .