Nectar of Life

My mother gave me the best birthday present ever—her release from the hospital! We took one last walk to the administration building to visit the massive Jesus statue and say a few words together before heading home. Carmen looked wonderful today after a good night’s rest (she was able to sleep through most of the night yay!) and another solid breakfast. The cortisone has been really effective in reducing her discomfort and nausea, so she is able to actually move around during the day. Unfortunately the cortisone is also responsible for some water retention, which is a little worrisome for Carmen because of the additional weight and the liver/kidney function implications. On the bright side, Carmen does look better with the extra weight. We all went out to O’Donnell’s in the Kentlands for a delicious birthday “lunch” (which really was at American dinner time). Having my entire family and Tom together to celebrate my 25 th birthday, was the best thing I could have ever asked for

Yesterday was a long day of tests and waiting. Her liver and kidney test results came back ok—slightly off, but nothing to be too concerned about. The CT scan confirmed the presence of the liver metastasis, which is not the greatest news, but it is the reality of our situation. Carmen looked a lot better, despite being exhausted from a day of being poked and prodded. Her abdominal pain and her nausea had subsided which was great news. She had not met with the surgeons, so no news yet in regards to the possibility of surgery. The doctors had determined however, that the abdominal/intestinal pains and nausea were associated with part of the intestine being impacted by the tumors, so the put her on a steroid to help reduce the inflammation and ease digestion. Last night we sat there as family around her bed, talking and listening and though some of the things we spoke about were hard to process and sad, Carmen was very calm and at ease. Her strength amazes me more and more every si

I guess I never thought that it could happen so quickly. Her tumors have expanded her stomach, compressing her entire abdomen area, causing her a lot of pain and nausea during digestion. This quick deterioration, which my dad mainly noticed this past week, is the reason for their early departure from PR and their appointment at Johns Hopkins today. Today she will get countless labs done- verifying her liver, kidney and other vital organ functions as well as CAT scans and MRIs to identify the lesions on her liver. What we hope for today is that her organs are functioning well, such that the surgery team recommends removal of the tumors. Yes, another risky surgery—what my mother tried to avoid this year by turning to yet another trial chemo treatment. But at this point, seems to be the only temporary salvation. If not then what? If not, then we are faced with the beginning of the end. Making her comfortable—feeding her through IVs to avoid the pains of digestion and kee

 Today I felt the pain of mortality stab me in the heart. I have always been optimistic of my mother’s condition, knowing that with optimism and hope we could battle her cancer and finally overcome her disease. These past few years since her diagnosis of retroperitoneal liposarcoma in October/September of 2005 have been a rollercoaster of highs and lows, getting through it all. I tried to be strong for my mother, show her the strength she has within, assure her that she is doing everything she can to heal herself, and that surely she is on her way to recovery. I thought that in believing in her and her strength that she would be able to overcome anything. With every returning tumor she was better equipped to heal her body, to teach her body to heal itself. I was there supporting her through her surgeries, her trial chemo treatments, always there letting her know that she was on the road to recovery. Today after finishing her second round of a trial chemo that seemed hopefully, s

My mother was first diagnosed with retroperitoneal liposarcoma in October of 2005. I had come home to see her in the hospital—during the removal of a cyst on her breast the doctors accidentally punctured her lung. It was during her stay at the hospital that they completed an MRI of her core (to verify the lung’s status) and found a large mysterious mass—a tumor. Though frightened by this news she was thankful for the discovery. Weeks went by as my parents spoke with other doctors and centers trying to figure out what this tumor was and what to do. Eventually she was diagnosed—liposarcoma, a rare type of cancerous tumor that manifests itself as a mass of fat. The irony of it—my mother the skinniest petite woman in the world, had a fat tumor. Right before Thanksgiving she went   to Sloan Kettering to have surgery to remove the almost 8lb tumor. Being the strong woman that she is, she recovered quickly from the surgery and began her healing journey. It was years before