Skip to main content

Deterioration.


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 keeping her pain under control.

My father, the rock. After putting my mom to sleep last night, we stayed up talking about what is to come. He is so strong and good at not being scared, I wish I was more like him sometimes. He was objective about everything—the details of her symptoms, the possible reasons for them, the undeniable future. He sat there behind his sad eyes and told me that he did not think that Carmen had years of life left in her, that we have to start acknowledging what may happen. I asked him how he was, to which he responded, “I’ve been with her since I was 18…”

I believe today we will have good news, in that the surgeons will see a reason for surgery, and we can continue on her path to recovery. Though I am full of hope, it is hard to not be overwhelmed by today—by what today may mean for the future of my mother and family.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The feared M-word

 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 hopefull...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Best Birthday Present

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...
Post a Comment
Read more
Today we are gathered to recognize the life of caring woman. To many, she was Dr. Carmen Mateo or just Carmen, and to a few of us she was Carmencita (Mari Carmen to her sister who just arrived from Spain), or mom to my brother Daniel and I. She was and still is an inspiration to us all, with her kindness, grace and strength. She was selfless always putting everyone first, whether it was a stranger, a patient, or her family.   As she would say, lo mas feito para mi. Carmen was full of love for the world, always wanting to take care of everyone. She touched the lives of all the patients she encountered while at NIH and in her everyday life. She was the type of person that you would meet once, and after a lengthy conversation, oh how my mother could talk, would make you feel like you were special. She is unforgettable; her inner beauty always radiating through her twinkling eyes and quirky smile. She had this aura of energy surrounding her that captiva...
1 comment
Read more