Alright, so this is my post about my mom. My mom was the most amazing mom I think anyone could have had. And I
don't say this because she isn't around anymore. I've said it my whole life. I've always considered myself lucky for having the parents I had/have.
Now I don't hold my mom on a pedestal or think she was perfect. She was far from it. She had an annoying way of holding multiple conversations while on the phone with you, so you never knew if she was talking to you or someone else. She forgot things all the time. I doubt I could count on one hand the number of times she forgot to bring my sister's kids home from school and someone had to go back and get them. But I think all her imperfections are part of what made her my mom and the best mom.
One of the things I loved about my mom was that you could always count on her to be there for you no matter what. No matter how much I screwed up she was always there and always loved me just the same. I could tell her anything. She never judged me or my siblings.
My mom and I hit a rough patch when I was a young teen. There wasn't anything she could do that didn't piss me off. It wasn't her fault, it was mine. We just fought constantly. I remember being 13 or 14 and telling her I was going to try and move in with my sister and she told, "Go right ahead!" She was like, thank god! Get the hell out. I didn't move out but I did move about 100 yards away to an over-sized shed-like room attached to our garage. It seems like it took a little while, but one day we just got along again. I think part of the problem was that I was a depressed teen-my god the hormones teenagers go through.
But one day it was all better and we were the best of friends. I then really did move out when I was 15 and my mom was so sad that I did. I can't think of a single fight we had since I moved out.
When I was 16 I moved to Florida for 3 years and we used to talk on the phone literally every day for at least an hour. I missed my mom so much.
When I needed a place to go when I was 20, she took me right back in. And she took her role back over. I remember the first night I spent over at Chris' house. I didn't want to call my mom and tell her I wouldn't be home, so like a chicken I texted her (even though I was pretty sure she'd never read a text in her life). She called me in the morning and was so pissed. Not because I spent the night at Chris' but that I didn't call her. She always was such a mother hen...
Which brings me to her collection of chickens. We always used to refer to her chickens as her "chicken shit". My parents even labeled their packing boxes "chicken shit" when they moved. My mom collected so many chickens it was insane. It's been a year since she died and we still have boxes and boxes of chicken stuff to go through. She also collected spoons. You know those silver spoons that say "Chicago" or "Ireland" on them. She also just had crazy spoons she found in her travels and I believe she had a wooden spoon my brother made her. We still have to go through all those and divide them up.
Another thing my mom had a ton of was pictures. The walls of our houses always were covered in pictures and that didn't even make a dent in the boxes and boxes of loose pictures she had stored away. I wish she'd labeled them as it's getting to where we don't know who half the people are in them.
My mom was overweight my entire life. As a kid I remember her extra rolls with fondness. A favorite memory of mine was when she would lay on the couch to watch TV and my little sister and I would get to lay on top of her (like she was our couch). She was so soft. I also remember she'd always talk about her tummy rolls, I loved them. My entire life she was ALWAYS dieting. She always wanted to lose that weight and she never did. She sometimes would lose some and then it would stop coming off. She tried so hard.
My mom also had the softest skin. I always wished my skin was that soft. She had dark brown skin and literally no body hair. She didn't even have eyebrows. And she never had to shave. Lucky lady. She always loved my eyebrows and eyelashes. She complimented them all the time. She would also always talk about how lucky she was that all her daughters were so beautiful. She was so proud of all her children.
My mom worked at the school I went to for 23 years. I loved being a kid and being able to go to her during the day to get food and borrow money, or just to say, "hi". I used to pester her all the time when she was trying to work. Back in June of 2006 I started working there. I loved being able to see her every day. Unfortunately she had to take time off due to being sick starting in November of 2006...we always thought that would just be temporary. Even now, when I walk the halls of the school, I think of her. Even a few weeks ago when I subbed I had a temporary brainfart and started to walk to her office to say hi. It's moments like those that hurt the most. When I realize that I can't.
So, some time during the summer of 2006 my mom came down with the "flu". She then had what she assumed was a kidney infection. And then a "flu" etc. She was sick for my entire bridal shower. She slept in my bedroom for the whole thing. I felt so bad that she had the flu. She was even sick at my wedding, with another "flu". I always look at my wedding pictures with regret. I realize that I was having so much fun I didn't even notice that my mom wasn't hardly around for my wedding. I am pissed that the photog didn't get a single picture of me and my mom by ourselves.
I guess I should mention a little bit more about my mom before getting into what happened next...my parents have always been hippies. They never really liked doctors. I recall going to the doc twice during my entire childhood. When my mom started having tons of "kidney infections" she went to her nutritionalist/chiro she'd been seeing for years. She took her vits and drank her cranberry juice, etc. At one point she FINALLY went to a doc, but not a GP, a kidney specialist as she was sure it was kidney infections she was having. He told her her kidney was just fine. But she went to him when she was feeling better, so this made sense. The kidney infection was better so of course it'd look fine.
Anyhow, my hubby and I took a belated honeymoon in December of 2006. By this time my mom couldn't drive anymore as her back hurt so much. She couldn't work and was in a ton of pain. She decided to go into her church to see if she could get help that route. Thankfully the first thing they did was ask her if she'd been to the doc. They literally walked her down the street to a doc and that was when they found the cancer.
As I was on my honeymoon, my sisters decided not to tell me till I got back. I emailed them several times asking about mom and I don't even remember what they said, but it was all kept happy and light. When I came back they told me that she'd been diagnosed with cancer. It was weird because they'd all already freaked out about it and cried and were now over that stage of it. But I wasn't. It freaked me out, but I felt like a retard crying about it now that they were all matter of fact about it. I felt like I missed out on being able to be upset about it because they'd known about it before me. Probably dumb for me to feel this way, but I did. I've always had an issue with crying. It embarrasses me, even when it's appropriate and I've always suppressed it as much as possible throughout my life. I probably cry the most when I'm angry or frustrated. That's different somehow. It's crying when I'm sad about something that I suppress.
Anyhow, even after the cancer was diagnosed my mom was still very slow about dealing with it. In all honesty, the time-line of how everything went down has gotten a bit fuzzy in my mind, so I might mix up the order in which stuff happened.
It seemed like when she went in to the hospital they didn't seem to take her cancer that seriously, maybe because my mom didn't. It was so unreal to her that she could be really ill. We knew she had a tumor on her back that had literally put so much pressure on her spine that it'd fractured in two different places (no wonder her back hurt). And one day she was like, "huh, I have this weird bump on the back of my head, I don't remember bumping my head". She'd had it for a while and not told us about it. She also started losing control of her legs and she didn't tell us. She then started getting incontinent and again suppressed this from us. I swear it was like if she didn't confront what was going on she hoped it would just all go away. At one point we freaked when we realized that all this stuff was going on with her and we forced her to go to the hospital. It took all 5 of her children to get her to stay and get a CT scan (they terrified her and were also excruciating for her to get due to her back). We finally got a good doc who took one look at the scan and checked her in. She had stage 4 cancer. Of course they never told us that till about a week before she died.
My mom had lymphoma, which is a very aggressive cancer and requires fast treatment. I don't think my mom started her radiation treatment till February or something.
One of the issues that required us making her go to the ER and wait for the CT scan was that she didn't have insurance. Like I said, my parents didn't like doctors and I think my mom thought it would be asking to get sick if they had insurance (stupid, I know). And the docs didn't have that much interest in her because she didn't have fucking insurance. What was in it for them?
Anyhow, she started her radiation and it helped her so much. She felt so much better. But she still had to get the chemo. She got her first chemo treatment and developed congestive heart failure, apparently as a reaction to one of the drugs in her chemo treatment. This was another thing where my mom is at home all puffed up and feeling like shit and she doesn't bother to tell the docs. We again made her check back in to the hospital and that is when she was diagnosed with congestive heart failure.
So the docs started treating her for this. In the meantime she had other stuff going on. The tumor on her back was putting pressure on her kidneys and she was literally filling up with poisons that were not draining.
Through all this I was teaching and didn't have anyone to cover my classes so I could help my mom (and I was pregs with Liam). But my sister, who was the Dean for elementary and below would have me cover the one math class she ran and would go in to help my mom. She would always complain about how hard it was (which it was, but I would've done it in a heartbeat) and it made me so pissed. I would've traded places with her any day. She never would cover my class though to let me go while she worked. Here I was stuck teaching and feeling useless. (just in case any of my sisters ever read this, there are definitely no hard feelings about this anymore...but I did wish I could've helped more at the time)
My older sisters had had a trip to Guatemala planned for the spring of 2007 and my mom made them go. She was still in the hospital trying to recover from her congestive heart failure and trying to get well enough to get her next chemo treatment. So as it was spring break I was finally able to go and be with her.
There was one day that was particularly awful. She needed to get another CT scan. And we're talking one that took at least 2 hours. I wasn't going to leave her till she got it as I've said before they terrified her. As she needed to have a doctor go with her to administer extra morphine in the event that it was needed it took forever. We finally got a doc to go with us. They'd given her some sort of anti-anxiety drug to help her with the claustrophobic-ness. It made her completely insane. She was seeing things, handing me imaginary objects, talking to people who weren't there. It was awful. In addition to all that, she was in so much pain. The only way she could be even remotely comfortable was on an incline, but to get the test they had to put her on a gurney and take her to another building. They then left her on the gurney for a good hour or more waiting for the test. I had to shove my purse under her legs to prop them up to try and relieve some of the pressure (remember she was also insanely swollen from her kidneys not draining properly). Anyhow, it took the entire day. I think it was almost 9pm by the time I was finally able to go home. The next day I found that the CT was useless as she'd moved to0 much and my mom didn't even remember that I'd been there.
So, through all this, the docs had never given us any indication that she might not make it. My mom was optimistic. She KNEW she would get better. She never had any intention of dying and was terrified of dying.
So at this point, my mom is still trying to get well enough to get her 2nd chemo treatment. She now has stints in her sides to help drain all the fluids from her body but they still aren't draining properly. One Friday the docs tell us that they are going to check her out of the hospital that day. Ok, now realize that my mom's health had deteriorated to the point that she can't walk at all, she has a catheter and stints sticking out of both sides of her back. It takes 3 nurses to move her into her wheelchair. And she is dying of cancer. And they are checking her out of the hospital. Needless to say we flipped and told them there was no way in hell we were bringing her home.
The next day we're suddenly being told that she has stage 4 cancer (something we could never get them to tell us until then) and that if she wasn't gotten up and moving around and better fast she was going to die. We were told to find out what her wishes were if she needed to be resuscitated, etc. What the fuck?!?! Literally the day before they were going to check her out of the hospital. Needless to say my mom freaked when the doctor asked her what her wishes were. She was in no way shape or form ready or willing to die and wasn't even willing to think about it.
It was awful. Within a couple days she was put in critical care and maybe like one day after that she was in the ICU on life support. I say again, WTF? I can't drive by that hospital without fuming. It was the hospital I was born in...but I swear I will never step foot in it again.
So anyhow, my mom was now on life-support. She was getting dialysis and was on like every possible blood pressure med to attempt to keep it somewhat regulated. Her heart rate was also all over the place. We knew she was terrified of dying and REALLY REALLY did not want to go. My dad had already given up. He decided it was over and he was already ready to pull the life-support. We were now stuck with figuring out what to do. Even if she were to pull through and be able to start breathing on her own again, the doctors had told us she'd likely never walk again, would be incontinent for the rest of her life and likely have tons of other issues. IF she pulled through. Then the doctors told us that the tumor on her head had penetrated her brain and she appeared to now be brain-dead. So we decided to pull the life-support.
I couldn't make that decision. I had to make everyone else decide. The docs told us that if we took her off the dialysis she'd go very quickly. She didn't. So they said if we took her off her blood pressure drugs it'd be very fast. So we took her off that...we all hung around and she still didn't go. My nephew's graduation was that night and we all decided that our mom would want us to go to it and be there for him. So we all went. My mom finally went that night in the middle of the night.
I regret pulling the life support as I always think about how long she held on. What if she was telling us, "No" and she didn't want to go and she was willing to keep fighting. We just went ahead anyway. Why did she hang on so much longer than the docs kept saying she would?
It's amazing the amount of regrets I have. I regret not hugging her more. I regret not spending every waking minute with her down at the hospital. I regret not making her go to the doctor right away when she first got the "flu". I regret not giving her one last hug before she died. In the ICU they had this crazy blanket full of air over her body trying to keep her body temp up and I regret not asking them to turn it off so I could give her one last hug.
It's incredible how devastating her death has been for me. I miss her every day. So often I want to call her or tell her something. That's the worst. Not being able to tell her something I want her to know. I wish I could show Liam off to her. It makes me so sad that she'll never know him and be proud of him. And he'll never know her. I really want to hug her again.
There have been rough nights with the baby where all I want to do is call my mom and tell her about it...or those times when Chris and I get into a bad fight and I need to tell her about it...and she's not there.
I miss my mom.
What I see when I go outside
when I got it. I imagined it would be a solid rubber giraffe. Instead it's actually a hollow squeak toy, which Liam hates. It's made of natural rubber, but it stinks to high heaven. I can't stand the smell of it and I don't think Liam can either. I've been trying to make him play with his tiny little $20 giraffe all week. All he will do is kick it or throw it as far from him as possible. So...not a good investment on my part. Maybe the next baby will like it more. Dork that I am, I also bought a "Gnon" which was another toy made by the same French company that made Sophie. Liam hates that one even more. It's also a squeak toy and it makes one seriously weird squeak noise. I think it actually scares Liam.
Well, I played. I got them all right, in the end, but 2 of them. The cotton fiber and the DVD. I re-guessed after it didn't matter and got them right. But I didn't win. Oh well, it was fun anyhow.
