Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Take Care

Over on Lucy's blog, Witchy Betty reminded me to take care of myself, too. if my fibro acts up, or if I get sick, I won't be much good for taking care of Mom.

That's pretty obvious today: I'm almost as exhausted as Mom. In fact, I'm going to bed at least an hour earlier than she is.

In addition, I haven't kept up with a project. I have the last article to write, and today I was informed they want the article by Thursday, two days from now. I was going to work on it last week, and should have at least started it way back when, but I was waiting for the answers to some questions. The only question the client didn't answer last week was the date of my deadline.

So I am doing something good for me tomorrow: I'm allowing one of Mom's friends take her to her radiation appointment. Not only do I avoid the one-hour (each way) drive, I will have at least an extra three hours to work on the article. Woo hoo!

And now, it is 9:00 p.m. and I'm so tired I am in pain. I've taken a couple of pills and am now moseying off to bed.

I'm taking care of Mom. I think doing so is teaching me how to take care of myself.

Monday, July 26, 2010

Cancer-related

My mom has cancer. It came as such a surprise. I'm sure everyone who develops cancer or who is close to someone who does feels the same surprise, the same shock.

We had made the mistake of thinking life is fair --- we have lost so much. We had succumbed to the belief that all of life's hardships and good fortune balance out, but they don't. I knew that, but I had forgotten. Life is reminding me.

I've heard and read that hardship teaches you something you need to learn; I've heard the same about cancer.

People say that hardship teaches you to value each minute of the day. However, "teaching" implies directed volition and a teacher. I don't believe in such a teacher. In my belief system, life has a great deal of randomness and chance. Entropy, if you like. Serendipity, too. And what is cancer except entropy experienced in the most personal way?

Grief becomes easier to endure when you have practice at it. You no longer feel as if you will die from it. All of the losses I've experienced have been horribly painful and have left holes in my life and in me. But I've known Mom the longest, and we are not only mother and daughter but great friends. And when she dies, I lose the last of my family. Thinking of being so alone wrenches me --- I'm tearing up and hurting just writing this.

In the end, Mom and I will do what we always have done: we will get through it. Well, for Mom it will be over. For her, I guess, there is no "through" but simply an end. After the final moment of her life, I will get through it alone.

I just hadn't expected to do so this soon.