The chemotherapy treatment my mom is on is kicking in-- at least the side effects are. It's a nice reminder for me that I would never make a good nurse (isn't this all writers' alternative plan? Nursing or teaching high school? Or truck driving, which I would suck at, too).
When my dad was dying of pancreatic cancer I took care of him. I remember the busy-ness of it. The changing of the IVs, the emptying of the gastric bag, the changing of the pain patch, then later making sure the morphine drip was working correctly. But if I really think about it, much of the time I was bored. I don't remember if I was reading a book (I've already read three since I got to my mom's). I do remember that I couldn't watch TV or talk on the phone. My dad couldn't stand any noise at all in his apartment. In fact, he made me unplug the television.
That quiet-- that's the part that gets to me. My mom would never demand that I turn off the TV or not use the phone. But her house isn't that big, and the wood floors and wood ceilings cause everything to echo. So, I read my nook or I sit on the back porch and have short conversations while she sleeps in her chair in the living room. I try to offer to do things for her, but I don't want to offer to do too much. It has to be good for her to get up and be autonomous, right? She can't drive, so I do go out and do that work for her, but she's certainly still capable of standing up and pouring herself a glass of ginger ale. So, I let her. She's in charge of her own pills (I don't dole out the medicine like I had to for my dad). Because I'm going to have to leave at some point, and she'll need to be able to take her medicine-- as she has been all along before I got here.
I feel real guilt that I have to leave. I miss my kids. I miss my bed. I miss my dogs. I miss my life. I know it's only been a week, geez. I'm worried that when I leave something will happen and it will take me nearly two hours to get back here. I'm hoping she starts to feel better soon, but what if she doesn't? I'm tired all the time, and I feel sick to my stomach. I guess I have psychosomatic chemo.
Good for you for letting your mom do what she is capable of doing. It sounds like she needs to be independent as much as she needs you to do the driving for her right now. I hope your mom makes it through this chemo without too much more sickness, and I hope you can get home without feeling guilt. I'm sure she will need you in the months to come, so stay healthy and get the rest you need, too.
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