Topic : When a Family Member Gets Sick

Thank you very much for your prayers.  Things are getting easier.  Dad is answering some questions alot better than he was.  The problem was that my other siblings were overpowering him with getting a second opinion when he wasn't even done with the first medical opinion yet.  I let my Dad know one day that I respected any decisions he made when it came to his body and his cancer.  I think that made it a little easier for him to talk to me.  I want my Dad to live forever but not at the expense of being a guinea pig for the doctors either. 

I think the hardest part about this whole process was when he first found out his cancer was inoperable and incurable.  That was the first time in my life I saw my Dad cry and that just tore me apart.  But it is getting easier and atleast I know that I can talk to him openly about it. 

I'm spending every second I can with my Dad and we're having fun, which, right now is what matters most. 

He had his second Chemo treatment this last week and his blood test for his liver came back better than it had been in a month, so that's a good sign.  I also overheard my Dad tell a friend that he wasn't going to let this beat him.  He's never let anything beat him before and this won't either, so it's nice to know he's fighting instead of just giving up.  That definatley put a smile on my face. 

Thank you so much for your in put and your prayers.  Having people out there to talk to is very important in times like these. 

michaeljfox.org

this is michaels sight and madcee to help those with parkinsons

  even though your dad is in the nursing home.  he knows that you are there, and holds the time together you have special to him. my dad died several years ago from a farming accident at the age of 79 years old.  during the time before his untimely death my husband, his kids, our son, and i lived 1,600 miles away.  it was not that i didn't have the funds to visit my dad and mom.  but my husband he forbid me to see my dad.  when my dad died it was quite a shock.  and of course my husband made it looked like he was really concerned all that time! my husband has also passed on six years ago to cancer. there is always something special about a father's love for their daughter and daughters.  i would give anything to see my dad again and tell him, how much i loved him.   bring him the sweets that he always enjoyed, laugh about silly things that the family pets did.  in my case there is no age limit in the parent's children, the loss of a parent hurts.  so please take this time and treasure every minute with your dad.  at least you have a very understanding husband.  may god bless you and your family

I too had a hysterectomy at the age of 28 due to endometriosis, fibroid tumors that were cancerous.  Its not that bad, yes at first I too was scared to death my daughter was just 5 months old at the time and I wanted to have more kids but the doctor said I needed the hysterectomy to live and take care of my daughter.  They removed all my female organs due to the fact that my tumors were cancerous.  Therefore I had the hysterectomy than went on hormone replacement meds for a few yrs and then went off of them because I felt I didnt need them anymore and I didnt.  I am 46 yrs old now and I have a wonderful like with my second husband  and I couldnt be happier.

Muds_Angel

Newport News, Va

To those who are dealing with elderly family members, particularly ones that you don't see very often, it's important to remember that until it progresses for quite some time, the symptoms come and go and may not be noticed during fly-by visits.  They don't call it "second childhood" for nothing.  An older person who's developing the problems of aging can be very like a 3-year-old -- They're on their best behavior for special visitors but behave very differently on a day-to-day basis. 

If you want to know what's really going on in their lives, talk to the people who see them every day.  The Mom you knew when you were 6 isn't the same Mom you had when the first grandchild was born, so why would you expect her to be the same at 86 as she was at 60?  Don't assume that she's okay just because you spent two hours with her at a restaurant last month and she sounds rational when you phone her once a week.  Don't call her roommate or neighbor a liar because they tell you that Mom only bathes and changes her clothes once a month (the day you visit), that she forgets to eat meals, digs through the trash several times a day and then wipes her hands on her clothes, and wanders around outside, in all weather, checking items that she just looked at 30 minutes ago.

It's very hard to deal with the fact that our parents or grandparents might not be around too much longer, but denying the reality is not helping anyone.  If you can't or won't see your elderly loved ones on a daily basis, offer emotional support to those who do, and make sure that Mom's power of attorney is actually taking care of her financial needs.

I'm 17 and my Mother has multiple cancers.

It started in her Colon, and spread to numerous places in her body.

I dropped out of school, [don't worry i got my g.e.d.] but other than the fact that i was never a good student, just going to school and only having my mother on my mind, it was all overwhelming.

Chemo is the hardest thing to go to every week, seeing other sick people, makes anyone want to run out crying, but then there's other days where everyone seems okay, and we just read a magazine til that days chemo is over with.

My mom is my best friend and that warm shoulder to cry on. But ever since she's been diagnosed with multiple cancers, the tables have turned and it seems she's the one in need of my support.

It's so scary to see that strong, powerful heroine of my youth to be so vulnerable. I love her more than life, and I try my best to alwayts be there to comfort her. But I also still feel like that little kid who thought my mom was invincible.

I remember when i was little, i use to be so scared of my parents dying, i'd cry all day, and back then, they were fine.
I use to run crying to my mom, and i made her promise me, pretty much everyday, that she'd never die.

I know no one is invincible, and we all die at some point, but i much rather it be from old age or natural causes, than ahead of time by a disease, illness, or fatal accident, etc. 

Theres days where i'm in denial, and believe she's fine, which is how i usually am majority of the time, cause how else would i get through life if i keep dwelling on it? but then theres nights like these that take their toll. Nights where i realize everything she has, and i read all these articles about these cancers [bad decision], and i break down so bad.

What I do, in order to cope with what she has, is i just try to avoid all negativity that anyone can hear from websites, people, doctors especially, and etc. 

Just cause someone has cancer, dosen't mean they're automatically going to die, people always assume the worst. It's obviously hard to hear from a doctor's mouth the constant bad news, trust me, I cry leaving the hospital alot. Doctor's can seem like such cold people.

Living with what she has is hard, I don't even want to imagine what life would be like without her.

So as for what everyone else says, yeah I cry, but then I get passed it, cause my mother still has a chance of getting through this, and Negativity isn't what anyone needs in their life.

I look up any home remedies and anything that helps a cancer's growth slow down and help someone with an illness like that. I cherish every moment I have and I spend alot of time with her.

She's still alive, so why be so sad?

Denial is a hard thing to get passed, and I won't deny that I'm still that little kid that believe's their mother is invincible.

But whats there is there, and I'm here for her always. 

My dad is  also a diabetic, in his mid 50's and he's had his share of issues with that.
Triple bypass surgery on his heart, surgery on his hands, legs, etc.

I wish both parents were well.

My dad is like a little kid, If his diabetes were to suddenly go away, haha I would bring him to a candy shop to go on a happy spree to enjoy the childhood candy that he misses.

I really don't know how to deal with this, and I don't even know my point in posting this.

But although both parents have been sick for years, there's many other people who have been through worse, so i'm just happy and grateful that they're still here with me.

I'd like to say i'm strong for the future and any negativity that might be thrown at my life, but I'm only human.

That's life, and I believe everyone goes through some kind of difficulties, some harder than others, we just have to be strong, breaking down is okay, and just get through it the best way we can.

I am a 22 year old mother to an angel, born still on November 7, 2007.

            As a teenager, I normally expressed myself with words.  Writing small poems, and little essays, and reading them later helped me deal with life’s stresses.  In my college years, I turned to other’s stories to help me cope.  But now I feel a need to go back, and to write my year of 2007.

            It was a beginning to a new way of living.  On January 6, I married my high school sweetheart.  What a great way to start the New Year.  In June, my older brother married his high school sweetheart.  It was so beautiful.  My brother did a surprise mother-groom dance to Connie Francis’ “Mama”.  My mother loved her music.  My sister and I cried at how beautiful it was.

            Little did we all know that my mother had been struggling with a horrible pain in her back that started in June.  Like the selfless mother she always was, she did not share her pain to keep us from worrying.  She went to the doctors after the pain didn’t go away.  They were attributing it to stress.  She agreed; she had two children get married and move out, her youngest son received his Confirmation at church, and my older brother graduated from college.  They prescribed her pain medications after determining it was a pinched nerve.

            Near the end of that month, I felt different.  I had the gut feeling that I might be pregnant.  I took the test and it was positive.  That night I drove to my mom’s house and showed her the pregnancy test.  I’ve never seen my 60 year old mother laugh and jump and hug so much. 

            But the pain did not go away.  Stronger the medicines got, and my mother grew concerned.  One day in September, I talked to my dad and he expressed his concern in her face swelling that day.  I went over and noticed that there was definite swelling or drooping of some sort in the right side of her face.  I told my dad to call the emergency room and tell them what’s been going on and ask if there was a cause for concern.  As he was talking to the ER, my mom and I sat down for some soup.  I saw a tear roll down her face.  “I think I’m dying,” she softly said.  I cried, “No mom!  You’re doing fine, we’re just going to make sure everything’s ok.”  After being at the ER, they found nothing wrong and sent her home.  I took the facial swelling as her body being dehydrated and began rubbing her face almost daily to soothe her.  Her physician ordered a CT scan.

            On October 15, my mother quit smoking for her grandchild due in March.  The next day she was diagnosed with stage four non small cell lung cancer.  The tumor was already 6 ½ centimeters big on her right lung.  The pain was the tumor pushing on the nerves on her spine.  It had spread to her hip and her spine as well.  Her oncologist was known as the “murderer of cancers.”  He was an aggressive doctor that always had hope.  The next week she began a 4 week regimen of daily radiation and weekly chemotherapy. 

            On October 24, I got a call from my OB/GYN.  He said there was a low AFP level in my 19 week blood test and that there was a risk for Downs Syndrome.  He suggested a level two ultrasound.  The next day, at the ultrasound, I learned my baby was dying inside me.  There was fluid around his organs, which indicated heart failure.  The left bladder was not working, and there was no bladder.  My baby couldn’t create the protective amniotic fluid.  My husband and I decided to let the baby pass on his own and then be induced to deliver soon after. 

            It didn’t take long.  On November 2, we checked for the heartbeat at determined he was gone.  I never thought I’d feel so betrayed by God.  How could he take my baby?  It took me three days to be induced and on November 7, I delivered Aryn at 21 weeks.  My mother, at the time, was feeling guilty for being too in pain to help with the pregnancy and rallied the day I delivered Aryn.  My mom came into my room just in time as I began to deliver.  She held my hand and kept me strong.  “You’re doing great, Sweetie.  Ready, and push!”  I couldn’t have done it without her.  My father had organized the funeral for my baby at my church.

            On November 12 at 4am, my father called and said there was an ambulance at the house because my mom was not breathing well.  It did not look good.  This was a woman who only had taken Tylenol and never got sick all her life.  The doctors in the ER told us that there was fluid in her lung.  I had called my church’s emergency number for the Anointing of the Sick priest to come.  We all went into my mom’s ER room with the priest for the Sacrament.  As soon as I saw my mother, I collapsed.  There were breathing tubes, IVs everywhere, and she was sedated.  By around 8:30 that morning, they moved her up to the ICU.  My dad began to call the family who lived on the other side of the country.  My mom’s sister and niece and my dad’s sister decided to fly down.

            In the week my mom was in the ICU, we talked to a lot of doctors and nurses.  Some had faith, some didn’t.  She had gotten pneumonia.  Probably the chemo session she had days before really weakened her immune system.  The thing that was trying to save her life, made it worse.  In three weeks she had three sessions of chemotherapy.  She was supposed to have one more before the holidays and then switch to a less frequent prescription.  Her oncologist had met with us frequently the week she was in the ICU.  He said he had never before seen someone respond to the treatment so well so quickly.  That 6 ½ centimeter tumor was reduced by 50%.  And the spine was officially clear.  It dawned on me how positive my mom and I were when talking about the cancer.  We would tell the cells that they don’t belong there, and that they need to leave.  She envisioned the chemo killing the cancer cells.  But we never predicted this.  Her life so fragile, so soon. 

            Unfortunately, she was so sedated the whole time.  On Wednesday she was the most responsive.  She opened her eyes for me a few times, reached out to grab my hand and raised her eyebrows for us.  By Saturday we had to make a decision.  Her kidneys were failing, and the only choice for that was dialysis.  The problem was that the procedure could kill her on the spot.  Her body was so swollen; in her hands, in her face on her neck.  She was on the highest dose possible for keeping up her blood pressure and she was only at 70/20.  My dad had made the decision to make her comfortable.  We had to look at the life support as just that:  life support.  It was not life prolonging, life enhancing or life saving.  It just kept her numbers there.  We all went in and with her four children holding her hands, the nurse dialed down the blood pressure medicine.  She stopped breathing two minutes after that.  Then her pulse went.  First it was 90, 40,70, 90, 10, 80, 4, gone.  That took another two minutes.  The longest four minutes of my life. 

            When she was gone I felt such a heavy load being lifted off of my shoulders.  Not because I was glad she was gone, not because I disliked her.  But because it was over.  She was so fortunate to not have to suffer with the cancer.  She was better than that.  She is healed now.  And I still feel her presence.  She kisses me with the warmth rays of the sun.  She holds me with the cool breeze as I stand outside.  And she fills my heart with hope.