The trip to my parents went well. Mom continues to have more energy and looks and sounds better than she has in months. If it weren't for the damned cancer, she'd be doing great!

I had the opportunity to talk with her again about everything. I think I get more out of it because I am letting her know how I'm feeling, the fear I have, that I understand her decision (and I believe I truly do - if she only has a few month left, she doesn't want to spend the time feeling miserable).

She and Dad talked with us about the financial stuff they'd gotten done so Mark and I will have access to their accounts if they were both to pass on. Yep, there is now the "POD" designation by Mark and my name on their account. Payable on death.

Also got to discuss Mom's funeral plans. Cremation, no viewing, no stone, no urn (I suggested a nice piece of tuperware), a memorial (though Mom doesn't think anyone would show up -- I'd like to think her loved ones would easily fill their church). Mom did agree to allow us to add her name to the stone Dad wants following his passing (cheerful thought - both parents dead). Not that she'll have a lot of say in the matter at that point.

She has an appointment with a doctor for a second opinion on Wednesday. She's not getting her hopes up and is primarily doing this (I think) to satisfy her family who is telling her she has to find out if there are other options available. She is going to see an OB-GYN who has some experience in treating women with ovarian cancer. Mom had no confidence in her previous oncologist, especially when he told her that the medications he was giving would control her nausea, then telling Mom's GP that he (the oncologist) had anticipated the nausea being bad enough that Mom would need to be admitted. That, and the oncologist didn't look Mom in the eyes at her visit. She took that to mean she was dead anyway.

Anyway, I continue to pray for a miracle. Maybe the cancer will just go away. Maybe the glyconutrients will help. Maybe prayer will help. Maybe... Maybe nothing will help and Mom will be dead before my daughter turns 5. Maybe nothing will help and Mom will be dead before I turn 32. I keep praying for the best, but the negative does overpower me from time to time. I love her so much and want her grandchildren growing up knowing who she is, not just who the lady in the picture is.

Gotta go before I can't stop crying.

Continuing to take it day by day.

Going to be headed to my parent's house tomorrow, weather permitting. Mom said it is nothing that can't wait, but I think it will be a comfort to her to get it done.

She has an appointment with a different oncologist on Wednesday at 8:30 AM. She and dad said I don't need to be there, but I think I'll somehow manage to find my way.

On a happy note: tomorrow is the 20th anniversary of the Mac. Happy b-day to the world's greatest computer!!!

On a sad note: One of my first favorite television programs was Captain Kangaroo. It was one of the few kids shows I got to watch other than cartoons on Saturday. The joys of growing up with only 2 channels (CBS and ABC) to choose from. I heard some people talking about his passing and how he'd helped raise generations of kids. Everyone rails about what is wrong with the youth of today. Maybe having Captain Kangaroo replaced with crap like the Power Rangers, Telletubbies, and Barney had something to do with it. If you'll excuse me, I need to go dump a bunch of ping pong balls on my head in tribute to the Captain.

Been awhile since I've been on. Been a busy week. Last Sunday, we went to my parent's house. In part because a bunch of Mom's family (brother and sister-in-law, sister and brother-in-law, mother, and step-father) were coming to visit. We ended up going because my Dad said that since Mom was going to have so much going on, a few more people wouldn't hurt. Mom was at the point on Sunday where she was saying she is done with chemo because of the nausea she experienced. She told her family this. Her sister had talked with my grandpa's oncologist and got the names of some oncologists near my parents. She encouraged my mom to look for a second opinion. My mom was convinced that since her oncologist didn't look her in the eyes, it meant that she is going to die regardless of treatment.

Anyway, Mom was not wanting to pursue any further treatment. After everyone left, Amy and I talked with Mom and Dad about glyconutrients. We shared with them what we've learned about the supplement and how some people have gone into remission and have even become cancer free using the glyconutrients, in some cases after doctors have told the people there is no hope. Mom agreed to give them a try, which was a weight off my heart. If we hadn't tried this, I'd always wonder "what if???"

A not so funny thing, my uncle Rich asked me about getting some pot for Mom to help with the nausea and appetite. I told him that if it came to that, I'd do what I could to see that she got something. Somehow between my parent's house and my grandmother's house, it was twisted into my giving Mom THC capsules. My brother (bless him) did put out the fires and talked with Mom to find out what I'd given to her. He did write an email that brought up all sorts of emotions in both me and Amy. We talked on the phone Tuesday night and sorted things out.

Where things are at today: Dad had a colonoscopy today. Only one polyp and everything else looked clear. Hoping it isn't anything. If it is, I will completely freak out. Fetal position, sucking my thumb for the next six months.

Also today: Mom told me she is going to pursue a second opinion. She does want my brother and me to come home for a part of a day this weekend. She said she wants her affairs in order and to let us know what she has planned. Not looking forward to that, but I am happy about the second opinion. Means there may be other options open to her.

I also am encouraged as I'd read a testimonial on the Cancer Treatment Centers website of a woman with stage 3B ovarian cancer. She was essentially told to go home and die. She went to the Center and was cured of her cancer. My parents have a woman in their church who goes there and a friend of mine has a friend receiving treatment there as well. Both have volunteered to talk with Mom about the Center, treatment, etc. I think it may be good for her, especially now that she seems to be gaining some strength (the chemo working? the glyconutrients?) I also liked the site because I learned a few things that I want to ask the doctor my parents are going to for the second opinion.

Lastly today, Mom told me she is going to hold off on the glyconutrients as a last resort. She was having problems taking the pills because she's just started keeping food down consistently again.

Amy is visiting her parents with the kids. Didn't get much time to spend with them over Christmas, partially because our dog is not welcome there (she bit one of Amy's cousins about 9 mos. ago). We'd normally leave Lucy (our dog) with my parents while we went on to Amy's folks. This was anything but a normal holiday. I miss having Amy and the kids here. It's too quiet. I keep wanting to check to see if everything is okay.

Going to close with song lyrics from a song on Nanci Griffith's "Clock Without Hands" CD. The song is "Last Song for Mother". I heard it and had tears running down my cheeks.

LAST SONG FOR MOTHER
(Nanci Griffith)
Irving Music, Inc./Ponder Heart Music (BMI) Administered by Irving Music, Inc.

If I promise not to cry
Will you look me in the eye
And tell me that you've known me?
I was your late, your lonely child
I am enhanced by all you've shown me

And in my youth I did defy you to the end
Please forgive my wildness then
Even I can't comprehend
What a mother's love has lent
To all that is me

And will you sing this song again?
Let us sing it hand in hand
While the band is still playing
Before the light can lose your hand
Before I lose my voice again
Let us sing it while it's playing

And if I promise not to cry
Please look me in the eye
And say you've truly known me
'Tis the sweet sound of goodbye
Amazing grace how sweet the sound

Between your soul and mine
If I promise not to cry
If I promise not to cry

Wow. Didn't think it would be so easy to get this done. I am 31 years old, living in South Dakota. Married, 2 kids (1 of each) and a dog. I am starting this blog as a means of self-therapy. I have worked as a therapist for several years now, and find it can be difficult to always do the things I ask my clients to try. In part, that's because I feel I have some pretty good coping mechanisms to deal with what life has to throw at a person.

That changed in a big way on Thanksgiving of 2003.

Starting in August of 2003, my mother had been complaining of stomach pain, bloating, etc. She went to her doctor and was told she was suffering from a UTI and started on anti-biotics. She said she started to feel a little better, but still had the pain. The doctor set her up with a second course of antibiotics over a longer period of time. Still no relief and by now we're in November. The doctor says that it could be divirticulitus and prescribes (wait for it...) ANOTHER COURSE OF ANTIBIOTICS!!! Within a week of that appointment, my mom is in the hospital, undergoing test after test, scan after scan. She was moved from the hospital 10 miles from my parents home to one in Sioux Falls, SD the day before Thanksgiving.

We had been planning on going to my parent's house for the holiday with my brother's family. We stopped at the hospital on the way. We visited with my mom, who was sort of out of it on pain medication. As we left the hospital, we met my dad. Dad informed us that we'd be eating our dinner at the hospital as my brother was going to bring the meal with them when they came to the hospital. So, we started to sit and wait.

Soon, we were told that my mom would be having exploratory surgery. We moved everything from the waiting area we were in to an ICU waiting area. Freaky place. Lots of privacy, lots of people praying that it won't be their family member that dies. An extremely oppressive air in there.

After about 5 hours of surgery, the surgeon entered the room. I had a feeling it wasn't good news. A person carries himself differently if he has bad news to relay. My brother and his wife had taken their kids to his in-laws about 60 miles away and hadn't made it back yet. The surgeon informed us that there was cancer "everywhere" in my mom. That there were tumor markers on her stomach, her pancreas, her liver, and in her fat cells. He told us there was also cancer on her ovaries and her appendix, all of which were removed. He went on to say that in cancers like this, the chemo either works or it doesn't. He appologized and left the room, leaving my family in shock. It still breaks my heart to think of my dad being told how little hope there was for mom's survival. After what felt like an eternity, they let us go into ICU and see her.

It is so fucking unfair that she has this fucking disease! She's never been sick a day in her life! SHE TOOK HER VITAMINS, SHE EXERCISED REGULARLY, SHE DIDN'T SMOKE, DIDN'T DRINK!!! SHE HASN'T HURT ANYONE!!!!! WHY!!!! WHY?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

I am so pissed and hurt and scared for my mom. I don't want her to die but know the odds and know how scared she is right now and probably won't fight it much longer. And that hurts. How can she not fight? Doesn't she want to stay and see her grandchildren grow up and more grandchildren born? I can't pretend to understand where she's at, but she's currently saying she won't even try any natural remedies. I know she loves us, but her not fighting... I just can't understand it.

I'm also unbelievably angry with her doctor who misdiagnosed OVARIAN CANCER AS A UTI!!!! Perhaps something to look for when the first round of antibiotics didn't do a damned thing. Every web site I've looked at regarding ovarian cancer describes the symptoms as being abdominal pain, bloating... That fucking hack doctor could have done a couple of tests following mom's not getting any relief from the antibiotic. Maybe then the cancer would have been caught in Stage 2 or even in Stage 1 - where the 5 year survival rate is something like 90%. Instead, it doesn't get caught until it is at least Stage 3 - 5 year survival rate of 30%. I want the doctor's license - the doctor contributed to my mother's death through misdiagnosis and continuing to treat something that obviously wasn't the problem. Guess the egos of doctors always get in the way of actually healing someone.

I'm going to continue to use this to remember the days following the diagnosis, mom going home, etc. And yeah, I may rant and rail about a few things. I see this as a safe place to do it (other than to my best friend, my wife, who has been a rock for me through this. Without her, I'd have curled into a fetal position on Thanksgiving and would still be there right now).

Taking it day by day...