Skip to main content

When the going gets tough...

the tough get going!

Carmen was very tired today. Last night she decided to stop taking the cortisone, because she thought it was making her retain a lot of water, so today she was a bit meh. While on cortisone she had increased appetite and felt very upbeat and energetic, so once she got off it, she was very tired and felt a bit down. So today we took it easy.

Carmen and I drove to the farmers market at the Y, usually we would just walk up there, but it was extremely hot and Carmen was tired. We got some fresh veggies and fruits and headed back home. Carmen laid down to rest for a bit as we prepared another delicious salad- mixed greens, artichokes, radishes, onions, tomatoes and cucumbers with her Carmen-style "rice" (a mixture of brown rice, barley, quinoa cooked with cumin, cardamon, parsley and cloves).

We had a nice lunch together (we were all here except Jose who went into the office for a bit) and then sat in the living room watching this movie/documentary called babies as we looked through some of Carmen's things. She gave Daniel and I these beautiful letters she had written for us years ago--they were very sweet and emotional. She is trying to tie up lose ends, because she fears that things are going to be a little hectic, and wants to enjoy her time at home with her family all together.

As the day progressed, Carmen felt more and more tired, and was still retaining a lot of fluid. By night she was feeling worse and had a slight fever, so after enjoying a little bit of homemade gazpacho and a mini fish taco Jose took her to Suburban to try to figure out what was going on. We were all worried that the fluid retention and fever implied that something was going on with her liver/kidney functions.

It's days like these that make the path to her recovery seem so dismal. I know we must keep a positive attitude and hope for the best, but when Carmen is so weak and feeling to terrible it gets hard. She is doing her best to stay physically and mentally strong, and I know she is a warrior, but she still has cancer, a terrible debilitating aggressive disease. Though the uncertainty of this all makes it hard, she is still putting in her hard work everyday and with the support of all of her family and friends we will get through this. 

It was a hectic night at the hospital, eventually Carmen took some pain killers which allowed her to sleep for a little bit. The ER doctors suspected an infection due to the fever, so they ran some tests. Her white blood cell count was a bit on the high side but her liver/kidney enzymes were normal, so they contacted the doctor on call at Johns Hopkins oncology department.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Carmen Mateo

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 bef...

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...

Some days there won't be a song in your heart.

Sing anyway. So the chemo trial is out of the picture. Whether it is because it is actually not possible to get Carmen in the trial, or because she does not want to go through the painful side effects of the chemo treatment that probably won't cure her disease, I do not know. All I know is that tomorrow (probably) she will be coming home for hospice care until nature takes its course. It is hard not to look back at all the things we could have done. I know this must be extremely hard for my mother, but we should not harp on things we can not change. It is also extremely hard for me to just accept that this is the reality of our situation, but we should have the strength and grace to support Carmen now in these difficult times. We have spent almost 6 years in this battle, where we have hoped for a miracle to fight what seems to be the inevitable now. I think the worst of this all, is the uncertainty. We simply do not know how things will go, it could be weeks or days. It seems ...