Christmas Thoughts

I am not sure if I have thoughts this Christmas or not. In fact, in some ways, I'm really just kind of numb. I'm plugging along though, one day at a time, I just wonder if I'm being true to myself and letting myself grieve, or if I'm living in a state of constant denial. In some ways, I feel kind of blocked, like there are parts of myself that need to open, and face the feelings, face the emotions, face the realities.

Last night I went to Christmas Eve service at my dad and sister's church. I haven't been in that church since the funeral, and the time before that was also not the most pleasant experience. I was confronted with so many people who knew my mother, so many more then were at the funeral, and I left as soon as I possible good. I played the piano for the 11 PM service at my church, it felt good to be there, even if I did continually psych myself out on nearly every introduction. I wish it had been the whole worship team rather then just me up there.

This morning it was off to my dad and sister's house for awkward good times of my sister acting like a child, me defending my dad from her and dad and I planning our September vacation to the place where my parent's honeymooned. Then Christmas dinner at a family friend's, where I met a nice single man who seemed to meet most of my "criteria". My poor father was incredibly hung up on the fact that he was of a different skin colour and couldn't stop asking about his culture even though he was born and raised in Canada. My sister kept bringing up my cats, revealing just how crazy a cat person I was, which is NOT something I generally do when I'm trying to "flirt", or even just appear normal.

Then it was home to listen to my dad and sister wrap their presents, because apparently they don't plan ahead. Then opening presents, including some presents from mom which she bought before she died. That was hard. I left soon after, before 5:30 and then realized I had an entire evening to myself and NOTHING was open and NO-ONE was around to hang out with. I tried to drive and look at some Christmas lights, but I couldn't remember where we used to drive and didn't see many good ones before giving up and going home.

I went for a walk later, too cold to be out for too long though. Sophie Cat and I had snuggles, as did Ollie and I, and now, now it's bedtime I guess.

The first Christmas is over.

To my mother - may she rest in peace

My mother died on Tuesday November 2, 2010 at the age of 54. She had a somewhat mysterious cancer they believe started in her small intestine or appendix. No treatment they tried made any difference and it spread throughout her entire abdomen, unstoppable.

Mom made the decision to die just over two weeks before her death. She stopped eating and drinking, and for awhile, until her month got just too dry, even stopped the ice chips. She refused IV feeding receiving only the fluids deemed necessary to keep her PICC line open. Eventually as a family we made a decision to stop those too. For the last 4 days of mom's life she was not with us, even a little bit. She could not speak and did not show any recognition of anything but pain.

Tuesday, I came to the hospital on the 15th day of the 10 days they gave her to live. Within 30 minutes of my arrival she stopped breathing and finished her transition from the living to the dead, a 70 pound shell of the woman she once was. Dad and I were with her and my sister came later that hour (let me tell you it's awkward sitting in a room with a dead body...) We had dinner, then I went to yoga with a friend, and the grocery store. As soon as I got home from the grocery store I started sneezing, the cold which had been holding off til I was free from the hospital hit with a vengeance. I slept for at least 11 hours. Solid sleep with no ear open for the phone to ring.

Wednesday was a day of funeral home arrangements, church arrangements, nose blowing, and decongestant popping. Fortunately, my slightly obsessive mother had planned her entire funeral (and prepaid), written her obituary and done countless other things which made this process easier. My sister looked horrible, but dad and I got things done which basically consisted of signing some forms, agreeing to pay the INSANELY high cost of getting her obituary printed, and picking the flowers. Then a friend and I ran random errands and I moaned about my sinus. Then slept for 12 hours (Oh how I love sleep).

Thursday was a day of "rest" meaning I got up at noon and went to starbucks and then didn't do anything til yoga at 4. Then I hung out at home til I hung out with my best friend in the evening. It was wonderful.

Friday was, well, a day. A long, long, long day. Friday mom's ashes were interred in the morning. I, as the oldest daughter, got the honour(?) of placing her ashes in the hole in the memorial wall thing. Though we have a VERY small family, both my mom's brother and my dad's brother came, as well as my mom's cousin and my great aunt and uncle (I have no aunts and no cousins). The afternoon was the memorial service which was...packed. I am fairly sure I'll get six colds and two flus all at the same time from the number of hands I shook. Thankfully my friends eventually rescued me from the line I was suck in and we hid out in the church sanctuary. I was getting emotional simply because of all the raw emotion in the room. It's hard to explain. It was very difficult for me to meet all these people who were connected to my mom in some way and who knew, in many cases, a very different side of her.

Friday night, to distract myself from everything and get back into my routine, I went to volunteering and fed dinner to 200. (Or well, greeted 200 people at the door). I hadn't been in a month, and it often feels like coming home. I love it. Oh, and Saturday was inconsequential.

Which brings me to today. This is the first Sunday in probably a year where I haven't had to go to my parents house or a hospital. I love it. I absolutely love it. However, I didn't love the totally aimless feeling it left me with. Thankfully some libraries here are open Sundays and I went for a nice walk to get books. I also have wonderful friends and was able to get out for dinner with them.

I'm not quite sure what it is about being alone which scares me so much, and I really don't even think I'm scared of being alone, I'm quite happy/content right now, it's more the idea of not having anything to do/no where to be. I have another week off work (I was off the last two weeks as well), and there's a big push and pull going on in my brain about filling it or not filling it with social activities. Part of me craves time alone and part of me is so scared of having nothing to do and not getting out of the house. I now have something every day but Saturday, and it's only Sunday night... And of course I'll probably do yoga every day too. And maybe, just maybe, I'll take some time to write some of this out.

Day 11 - Cultivating Peace

By the end of yoga today I was crying. Not because of physical pain, although both my ankle and my elbow were hurting, and not because I was particularly exhausted, but just because I was crying. I'm not sure what triggered exactly, perhaps simply that my body doesn't always move the way I'd like it to, but I really think it was more than that. There's a lot of stress in my life right now, and stress tends to come out in our bodies. I don't know if yoga released some of that, or brought it to the surface or what, but there was something going on there. Tomorrow I'm doing some nice, basic, hatha yoga. Stretching in the hot room, but not Sun Salutations, no Flows and no rushing.

I sent this as an email update to friends, so perhaps I'll add it here as well.

I know I haven't been the most talkative this week, but I wanted to update you all on what's going on (for some of you you're jumping in in the middle here because I've been bad with updates, but here's what's going on).

My grandma (my father's mother) has pneumonia. As I last heard she is still conscious and eating (as long as it's pureed, she is no longer able to chew or to swallow hard foods) and is taking antibiotics. She is on oxygen and she is not expected to be able to beat the pneumonia and has been moved to palliative care.

My father is going out to see my grandma (across the country) and say goodbye. I am driving him to the airport tomorrow morning. Although he initially wanted me to come, we decided it would be better if I stayed here to look after my mother and came out for her funeral, either this trip, or a trip in the future. He is planning on returning on Wednesday.

We found out on Tuesday that my mother's chemotherapy did not work and her tumor has grown. The tumor coats many of the major organs in her abdomen including her intestines, lungs, and liver. They have decided to try my mother on a different kind of chemotherapy, however there are potentially lethal side effects associated with it and she has to be very careful. At this point the chemotherapy is simple to extend her life, there is no hope of a cure.

In addition to the cancer my mother has developed a blood clot in her leg which runs from her groin down into her calf. She was on injectable blood thinners at the hospital all last week but seems to have been stabilized on warfarin for now. I am taking her to the hospital tomorrow where they will check her levels and do care of the pic line she has in her arm for chemo.

In summary, at this point, I'm staying in the city and my father's going away. But, I'm also back to that uncertain place of not knowing when I might be flying across the country.

Please keep my family in your thoughts and prayers. In particular my father who is leaving his very sick wife to say goodbye to his dying mother. Please also pray for my mother as she will spending a lot of time on her own in the upcoming days. And of course please pray for my sister has she is placed into the role of primary house keeper. And me, as I try and make sure that everything comes together, is taken care of, and everyones needs are met.

Day 9

Today was the hardest day of the challenge yet for me. It was seriously hard to motivate myself to get to yoga. I felt horrible today, emotionally as well as somewhat physically, and I left work early cause I didn't feel like bursting into tears at my desk. I came home, climbed into bed, and fell asleep. Then of course I had to get up for yoga. Which really was a good thing, because it meant I couldn't completely screw up my sleep schedule.

At yoga, there was a new teacher, which is fine, if we hadn't also had 3 new staff start at work (two today, one last Wednesday). I can only deal with so much change and I feel like my life is in a state of constant flux. I had a bit of a hard time letting go of the teaching/teacher and sinking into my yoga. She did things a bit differently, and it just, wasn't working for me... or something. I dunno.

So, things I learned today: Sometimes it's okay to just give up, go home and take a nap. It really was what I needed. I really did need to not be at work for a while (despite just coming off a long weekend). Not knowing if I'm flying half way across the country to go see my grandma, is kind of getting to me. And mom's chemo isn't working...which I'd already guessed, but still.

Day 3

Warrior pose. Today I am a warrior. Yesterday we found out that mom has a blood clot in her leg. It runs from her groin all the way to her calf and has slowly been growing. This is obviously not a good thing, and rather concerning. Mom's now receiving injectable blood thinners at the hospital everyday and taking Warfarin in the evenings. Chemo is bumped another week back. I have many thoughts about the chemo, but not today.

Today was a good yoga day. Much as there was some anxiety about fitting everything in and having to miss Wednesday church so that I could both do yoga AND work late (I've been missing a lot of time for physio) yoga went super well. I really surprised myself with my endurance and with the strength in my ankle. I mean, it's certainly not perfect, and the range of motion isn't there, but in terms of strength, not so bad.

What I learned today is patience. Patience with my body. Patience to say it's okay to do modifications on all my sun salutations because I just don't have the range of motion in my ankle to do an upward dog with both feet on the ground. Patience to know that I can't do a "proper" child's pose because I can't put that kind of weight on it. So, today I am a not just a warrior, I am a patient warrior.

quick update

I want to start writing more. I think it will be good for me. Life has been rather...overwhelming lately and it's been rather hard to get started.

My mother is so very sick right now and there's really no hope for her to get better. I've been stressed about work, lots of internal drama more so than client issues. To top everything off I sprained my ankle on Canada Day (July 1) and did quite a good job of it. It's really well sprained. I'm still using my crutches quite a bit and start physio for it on Monday.

I've been seeing a counsellor through Employee Assistance, which has been...interesting. Certainly not the easiest thing I've done recently and I'm still not sure it's the right thing, but I think so?

Cats are good. Oliver Lockhart has been literally in my face all evening. Right now he's got all four of his paws touching my arm which is making typing very difficult. I'm also trying to ice/elevate my ankle and so I'm at a rather awkward angle.

I have lots to say, particularly about counselling, but for tonight this will have to suffice.

Today my mom told me that she is in so much pain (from the cancer) that she just wants to curl up and die.

It's been awhile, so I thought I'd post another update. Life continues. Mom is having surgery on Monday which will hopefully be reaaaaally good for her. I've been working on using up my holiday days (which have to be gone by March 31st) as well as my sick days (same deal) while earning extra money working at the shelter. Over all, I'm actually doing quite well and I'm feeling like things have worked themselves into a new balance.

I worked at the shelter two days this weekend. There is something SO freeing about not having a caseload and something incredibly freeing about not having voice-mail. I am in LOVE with not having voice-mail! Seriously, I too Thursday off and I came back to EIGHT new voice-mails. Seriously people, if you leave ONE voice-mail, I promise I will get back to you. When you leave me THREE, it makes me not want to call you. (That being said, I'll still call you).

I love working at the shelter. I love my counselling job too, but I really really like hanging out with the homeless. As my long time readers will remember there are a lot of good reasons why I don't work at the shelter full time, but every now and then I get nostalgic for it. There's just something so very real about it, and I feel like I am really able to impact people. That being said, in terms of measurable change, I make a far greater difference at my other job. But, measurements, smeasurements.

work

I love that work can be a distraction from life. SO many people I know have jobs that they hate, that they can't wait to leave, that they dread, that they use life to escape from. I am SO blessed, in that I like my job enough that it can be stress relief. Yes, my supervisor has massive mood swings, and yes I don't always get along with my coworkers, but the truth is, I like my job. I've had to have some hard conversations with clients the past few days, but despite that, things have gone okay.

Things with my mom aren't the greatest right now, and I'm somewhat worried that my sister is suicidal, and there's the possibility my dad could lose his driver's license tomorrow, and I was really hurt by someone I thought of as a close friend, but things could definitely be worse. In fact, today seems to have been a fairly good day...especially since yoga. Yoga seemed especially hot today, but I came out feeling really good. I may be a wee bit sore tomorrow though...

back to the grind

So I'm back at the main job tomorrow morning. Full time counsellor once again. I look forward to the stress relief as long as my boss is off my case. I don't even truly remember what she was on my case about though so hopefully she's forgotten as well.

I held my mothers hand today as she screamed in pain while they took our her chest tube drain. The doctor told her it would "pinch a little". His version of "a little" is apparently quite different than hers. Poor woman. The good news is that the drain is out! Hopefully that means she's home tomorrow!

I am tired. And the thing is, I can't decide if it's harder to tell the truth, or to just pretend that everything is fine. It depends on the situation, I guess, but yeah...

I hope to get back to posting about social work tomorrow after I actually do some. All I've done this week is feel sorry for myself, wonder if I should be feeling sorry for myself or if I should get over it, and then wonder if in fact I should be feeling sorrier for myself. It's a never ending cycle...

Finding balance. It's all about finding balance. And so, I'll keep plugging away at this, one day at a time. One. day. at. a. time. And if I can't do one day then we'll break the day into sections and go from there.

As Dory would say, "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming!"

last day of holiday

I feel like I need another holiday. I feel like I need a holiday where mom is NOT in the hospital for all but one day of it. I need a holiday where I can do yoga twice a day instead of managing to squeeze in a class almost every day, but it was tight.

Mom is in the hospital till at least Monday. They still do not know where the fluid in her chest is coming from, and they do not feel that she is responding to the chemo the way she should be...at all. In fact, they feel she really isn't responding.

On the good side of things though, because I do like to find that balance, I've had some good hangouts with friends this week. I got a queen sized bed for the cats and I. SO much more room then my twin/single bed. SO much less cat in my space! I did do yoga almost every other day and had some really good practices. AND, I fixed/repotted all my plants today.

holiday day three

So, I've been on holidays for three days now. Well, holidays from my day job, I'm still picking up shifts at the shelter. Monday I worked at the shelter, did yoga, slept. Tuesday I did yoga, drove the United States to shop, slept. Today I visited mom in the hospital, will do yoga, will sleep. Hopefully I'll see a friend sometime because tomorrow is hospital, yoga, work at the shelter, sleep.

Mom is back in the hospital again, this time with a pleural effusion (fluid in the cavity around her lungs). They've already taken off two litres of it and hope to pull more of this afternoon. We don't know when she'll get out yet, maybe not till Saturday but maybe as soon as tomorrow afternoon.

I'm having a hard time figuring out how much I should visit. I suppose the easiest answer would be to ask my mom, but I'm not so sure I'd like the answer. I don't want to hear something like "as much as you can". That being said, I also don't want to hear something like "well, i know you're busy, so don't worry if you're not here a lot". I'd love to hear something simple like, "well, if you could come an hour each day that would be lovely". However, this is her cancer, not mine and I need to remember that.

I also need to figure out how to better communicate with my dad and my sister but that's a different post.

update

Writing has been hard lately. Writing makes things real. I tend to process things through writing,a and sometimes I just want to hide from reality, hide from processing things, hide from life. I've done a lot of hiding this past little while though, and maybe it's time to come out of my shell just a little. Perhaps it's time to open up, even to myself, about what I'm feeling, or maybe, to at least figure out what I'm feeling.

My mom is really sick. Really, really sick. When her bad menopause turned out to be ovarian cancer, I was concern. As she got worse, I was more concerned. I did some reading and realized that things were quite bad. In fact, things really suck. This week she wound up in the ER because she stopped peeing. Just, stopped. They still haven't figured out why. But she got a blood transfusion, got a whole bunch of fluids, spent two nights and is back at home. Now they are worried that there is fluid around her lungs. She's having a hard time breathing.

When I gave her a bath last night, there was just nothing there, nothing except a GIANT fluid and tumor filled abdomen which is now over 40inches around and 19 inches from top to bottom (full term pregnancy size). I can count all her ribs, I can run my hands down each and every vertebra in her spine. Last week she got into the tub on her own, holding onto a towel over the curtain rod for support; she pushed away my hand. This week she grabbed for my hand as I guided and supported her in.

I don't know what I feel. Part of me wants to know what I am SUPPOSED to feel, although, the social worker side of me knows that whatever I feel is normal. I'm all over the map. My mom and I have never, ever, had a close relationship. I'm a daddy's girl through and through. But now, now here I am. Now I'm the support, now I'm there, I've gone from talking to her once a month to seeing her at least once a week and talking to her sometimes almost everyday.

My mom has started telling me things, things I wished I could have heard when I was a teenager. She told me on Friday while we were in the ER that when I was a baby and she would leave me in my carseat during church she ached to hold me again by the end. Yesterday she mentioned that driving me (and my sister) home from high school was something she really missed because she missed hearing all about our days. These are things I never knew. I always saw my mom as cold, and uncaring, and distant. Now she is lost and vulnerable and very proud of her social worker daughter (she kept telling all the ER staff that I was a social worker).

So I don't know what to think. Mom's cancer has brought us together in a completely new way. But it's all happened rather suddenly and in a rather tragic way. This person I'm getting close to is disappearing before my eyes, in some cases, very literally.

For the next while this blog may be more about cancer, or venting, then social work. I don't know. I really want to try and write, it's so good for me. We'll see. I'm not so great at putting my deepest feelings out there, better at describing situations, which can be therapeutic in and of itself I suppose.