Mother

In addition to all the other numerous quality of life issues created by Revlimid/Decadron therapy over the last nine months, most of these were taken in stride and life went on as usual for the most part. However, now that the monoclonal protein number has come down to a reasonable range and appears for now to be on a plateau, this may be my best opportunity to get some quality of life back for a few months -- and I will need it because this is fast becoming a busy time of year.

It seems a lot of opportunities and events which require travel and energy (which was sapped by Rev/dex) are beginning to come together. I made a trip to Plymouth, NC and met a colleague so we could install a new radio system. That was week before last. This week, my wife and I are on the road to Hot Springs, AR to relieve my sister from caregiver responsibilities for a few days so she can drive three hours south and attend to some of the essential details at her home. My 89 year old mother's illness over the last three months, her unwillingness to go to a doctor for diagnosis and treatment, and her stay in the hospital over the last two weeks have begun to tug tightly at our resources.

After learning her PET scan results yesterday, I am sure the coming months will pull at us even more. So far, it has brought us closer than we have been in a while. I began researching "pancreatic cancer" on the internet last night. It is another one of those cancers which almost never display symptoms until it is so far gone it is almost impossible to treat. Therefore, about ninety percent of pancreatic cancer patients die within five months of diagnosis because the cancer has spread to other parts of their body, they are too old and/or frail to survive treatment, and they suffer from other complications which make recovery virtually impossible. My mother falls in all these categories in addition to having a basic apathy toward life.

I can identify with that because I became septic with pneumonia several years ago and almost died. During the course of my recovery, I discovered the apathy that develops with sever illness. It is almost like quick sand that sucks you under so slowly until you become more accustomed to dying than living. It is scary to look back on but consoling to understand a part of the dying process. Take note, our bodies were CREATED to do physical work. When we get to the point where all we can do and all we want to do is lay in a bed twenty or more hours a day, our bodies will respond in kind by using sugar stored for energy in muscle (thus removing the muscle) until we can no longer get up and move about like our bodies were designed to do. Our appetite and internal processes of digestion and metabolism diminish in response to minimal physical activity to the point where we are not capable of rising out of the mire we become lodged in -- a viscous circle if ever there was one. Sitting in a chair all day is not too far separated from laying in bed as far as the atrophy process is concerned especially if you are eighty or more years old.