What's Next

When I arrived at Mom and Dad’s house this week, the first thing Mom showed me her basket of letters overflowing with notes from families and friends.  She encouraged me and Michael to look at them because they were all so wonderful, each in its own way.

In the past few days she met with the oncology team at St. Anne’s Hospital in nearby Fall River.  Everyone was kind, thoughtful and articulate as they outlined options for Mom.  She is going to go for chemotherapy and start off receiving Gemzar (gemcitabine), a standard chemotherapy drug that has long been used to fight pancreatic cancer.  The goal is to slow down the cancer to keep her as healthy as possible as long as possible and give her a little extra time.

From what her surgeon said last week and from what we had researched, this plan was what we had expected.  But when leaving the doctor’s office today, I realized that I/we had been still hoping and praying that they were going to tell us about a new miracle treatment or that perhaps her odds were going to be much different or perhaps this is all a terrible mistake.  But they did not.  Since it is an adenocarcinoma tumor in stage 4 in her pancreas, there are not many options.  Radiation is not recommended since the cancer has spread.  A more aggressive chemo regimen would make her perpetually very sick without the hopes of curing it nor really giving her that much more time.   As the doctor said today, “I would not recommend it for my mother.”  The doctors can only hope to slow it down, though it is known as an aggressive and merciless (that is my word, not the doctors) type of cancer.  The doctor said he hoped that the treatments would hold the cancer back so that she would not have many physical symptoms of its advance until the fall.

So there it is.  I am sure it is difficult to read in black and white.  It was certainly difficult to hear it today - but we had the benefit of being there with Mom in person.  Mom said, “today was a tough day,” but her strength and courage continue to inspire and amaze us. 

I want to share with you something she said, partly because it will show how amazing she is but mostly because I hope it give you some comfort.  "I am so grateful for all I have. I want what is ahead to be full of joy and family," she said, “I don’t always understand, but I am certain in my heart of hearts that God wants what’s best for me."

Dad is doing OK. Typical of Dad he is more worried about Mom than how all this will impact him. He is going to his pool excercise classes and gone out with friends for coffee. He was very glad to have all three of us "kids" here last week with him and Mom.

In the upcoming week, Mom goes for a baseline CT scan and will get a port through which they will administer the chemo.  Next week she will start the chemo, going one day a week for three weeks and then have a week off before starting it again.  We hope that she will tolerate the chemo well for many obvious reasons, but also because we hope she and Dad can go to their place in Florida for awhile.  She would be able to continue the chemo down there.  She wants to walk the beach, watch the surf, feel the sand and collect shells.

Mom finds beauty and joy in so many things, even these days.  She loves watching the beauty of the pond from their living room, watching Downton Abbey series on PBS, listening to classical music, watching birds at the bird feeder, looking at funny pictures of the grandkids, reading the poetry of Mary Oliver, doing New York Times crosswords puzzles, going to the mailbox and reading her mail.  Many things make her happy.  Mom loves it when she sees – either in person, in cards, etc. - birds, pennies, roses, angels, stars, elephants, sunrises and sunsets.

Today Mom and I are going to find a good way to display all the great letters that Mom has received so she can be surrounded by everyone’s love and good wishes.