Let's get real.

Tomorrow is the three week mark that my mom has been in Oakwood hospital. Let's get real now, this shit is out of hand. Quite frankly I am too angry to be sad, not angry at my mom, her doctors, surgeons, or nurses. No I am angry at this cancer and these complications. Her intestines are slow to react at this time, which is pretty normal considering two major surgeries in a month and she's been on morphine for three weeks which most of the time causes constipation. Thankfully the surgeon said today it doesn't appear to be a blockage of any form in her intestines, cancer or otherwise. Also there isn't a pinch or kink in her intestines which is fantastic.

Now comes the bad part. Due to the medications and other various factors she has extreme nausea. This image that I shrank on here intentionally for those with a weak stomach, is the bile being pumped from her stomach continually for the last three days. This is going to keep going on until the nausea subsides and she can handle the feeling on her own. This tube is going up her nose and down into her stomach. Now for the reasoning this bile is being pumped out exactly. You see your body produces this consistently throughout the day. Approximately a half gallon a day of this bile is produced. It's the digestive acids. Due to her intestines not currently working how they should there is nowhere for this acid/bile to go, so it is then backing up into her stomach causing extreme and excessive nausea. Therefore since her body cannot use the bile nor absorb it, they are forced to pump it out of her until the intestinal track starts functioning correctly.

To most this might seem like a shock that I can be so matter a fact and happy about this. I'm not happy, but today was a huge step forward in this journey. My mom visibly looked better, was more chipper, and she smiled and did the whole "happy dance" with her feet. Over what you might ask? Not of her kids, no. It was over sugar. Even though they say she has to be on an ice chip diet I brought her a container of iced tea mix. She started dipping the ice cubes in it for the ice tea taste and sugar. This is the first time she's had something like this in weeks. So after a few of those, a walk, and a few more of them she had small air bubbles in her colostomy bag along with a feeling in her stomach she hasn't had in weeks. A feeling like it was processing something and working. Then, top that with the fact that her main surgeon came in while I was there and explained possible future procedures, some current ones she needs to deal with (nothing serious), and the fact that he is almost certain this is not a blockage or a complication from the cancer lead to a good day.

It was a phenomenal thing to see my mother smile and be visibly happy after weeks of hell. I know it's not anywhere near the end of this, but it's those small things you have to love and cherish. Life is not comprised of large scale moments. It's those little intimate things that no one else experiences or notices that make it special. Seeing her happy for once in weeks and taking another walk down the hospital hallway was more than I could have asked for.

Father's Day Revisited.

There is something that I did not add that also took place yesterday. Due to the most recent surgery and everything that went with it, it was required that my mom also have a blood transfusion. It was a two unit transfusion. The interesting thing about the transfusion is how it is mixed prior to going into your system. This was not an easy thing for my mom. She was worried about it and nervous, since it's like the doctors were once again making her realize that something is wrong. As if she hasn't had enough of that lately.

It was a bittersweet father's day for me. I got my daughter, but my mother was in the hospital for the second straight week. She won't be leaving for about five more days at the earliest. Also prior to leaving she will have her port installed. (yes installed is the word I chose.) It will be done by her surgeon who did the colostomy which is a good thing since she is comfortable with him.

As I said she had a blood transfusion. This may not be the best picture of her "dancing partner" as she puts it, but I feel it gets the point across. On this single IV pole is a locked morphine unit, a blood transfusion, and a general fluid IV. This is actually consolidated since at one point she had two of these since she was also getting the "big yellow bag of food". (these things are in quotes since they are her phrases, the ones I will repeat on here.)

Finally, since I last saw and talked to her today she was taken out of isolation. Which is fantastic since we can see her without dressing up in gowns and gloves now. Thankfully she is still in a private room, which, given her condition and the excessive amount of pain she is in, is much deserved. Soon though I have a feeling she will not only switch rooms, but switch floors once the port is installed. Then, hopefully she can fully rest and heal as much as possible prior to chemotherapy. I know I don't know the extent of things she's going through and I never will, but we want her in chemotherapy so the real battle and get underway. I can't wait to see her beat this into remission.

Catching Up.

It is important that I play catchup, thus the two entries in one day. Periodically I will be posting various photos along the way. These are going to be abstract or blunt, just depends on what I can get away with at the time.

The important thing right now is my mother. This journey is getting harder and rougher already. From what I have read the type of journey my mother and family is experiencing right now is not the straight forward, straight line type. Also from what I understand this disease is anything but conventional. To speed things up to real time, on June 6th 2010 my mother was admitted to Oakwood Hospital. She was then diagnosed with Colitis and C. Difficile. This apparently was due to complications from the broad spectrum antibiotics used when she had her hysterectomy at the end of April. After the hysterectomy she had an unknown infection in her which was causing extensive vomiting and fevers. It was necessary to treat it, but they did not know exactly what they were treating.  So due to that we are where we currently stand. Combined with an abdominal surgery, hospital stay, broad spectrum antibiotics, and an lowered immune system this bacteria took control and quickly went out of control.

This was her "bio-box" as of last week. Even her nurses and assistants felt bad. After so many IVs and vein issues they installed a pick-line at the beginning of last week (June 14-17th, 2010).

That's sadly not just where we stand today. After treatment with three different specific antibiotics meant to battle colitis and c.diff, they were unsuccessful. So on June 18th, 2010 at around 4/5pm EST they proceeded with an immediate colostomy. In which the entire colon and accompanying appendix was removed. The surgery is eventually reversible though. Her surgeon Dr. Mehran Mirkazemi was wonderful and did a fantastic job for what needed to be done. The only problem with all of this was it was another extensive surgery for my mother and we are still 2-3 weeks out from the start of chemotherapy.

Obviously as the oldest son I am terrified. I am scared not only for myself but my family. I am only 25 and seeing my mother who is the strongest woman I have ever seen battling this breaks my heart everyday. What's harder is she's only 46 and I get the benefit of knowing everything. The cancer as everyone knows is not a fair fighter, but her spirit and family by her side I am certain she can beat this and beat it with honor. What I feel the worst about is something she said from the beginning, "I am my hair." It may seem superficial, but to me I understand. She has the most beautiful rich red hair with natural highlights you could ever wish for and through everything it's her kids and her hair she cares the most about. (Mostly her kids. Most days, depending on how we are being.)

I love her more than I could ever express. This was supposed to be my day. It's father's day and all I cared about all day was my mother. It's hardest when your toddler keeps asking, "where's grandma?" It's difficult to always be the stable and strong one, but it's the role I must do and I fully accept. For everything she's done for me and all I have put her through it's the least I can do. I love my mommy.

The Beginning.

Buried within me is a journey that my family is currently going through. That is the purpose of this. It's for my own release and that hopefully somewhere someone reads this and gains something from it. This is a journey of Ovarian Cancer from the standpoint of the oldest son. On April 26th, 2010 my mother was officially diagnosed with Stage III Ovarian Cancer. I say officially because that is the date she had a complete hysterectomy and the biopsies came back positive for cancer in both ovaries. That was the point her wonderful oncologist Dr. Michael Hicks took over the surgery. He confirmed there was also spots of cancer in her abdominal area. This was the beginning of this brutal ride that has turned a close, tight family upside down. It's made us even closer, but my mother is the center of it that has always held us together. She can and will beat this. It's not a personal battle, it's our battle as a family.

I suppose I should tell you how she ended up at the doctor. How she ended up knowing she had cysts in her ovaries, and how she found out her CA-125 was elevated. It's simple really, Dexter. Dexter is a 90ish lb golden retriever. He's my little brothers buddy. She was trying to step over him one day and he decided he was going to stand up, which made my mom trip and land hard on her knees, arms, and stomach. She was in pain in her abdominal area for about two weeks, which was odd. So through various threats by me and my sister we got her to go into the doctor. Again she has a wonderful doctor on this front as well. She's kind, caring, and an overall sweet woman. Dr. Kartha.

This is a journey. A rough one, but beatable. Without further ado Dexter.