The Battle for Control

March 19, 2006


Hi. Blog much? Well, based on the (lack of ) frequency of my entries lately… NO. Sorry. What with the exploding tushies and sore backs and, uh, life getting in the way.. Gah.

Mom and Dad have been in Little Rock now for, well, I don’t even know. Two weeks, maybe? It’s weird. Time is moving at a very unnatural pace. We get to talk with them at least twice a day using MSN Messenger’s video capabilities, which is nice. It really helps The Swimmy to be able to see and talk with them – although she’s been asking when we get to go to Little Rock to visit. Which? Breaks my heart a little. I tell her soon – it’s up to the doctors and she tries to understand. So for now – it’s the computer.

They go to the clinic twice a day, every day. Up until yesterday, it was pretty easy. Mom finished her round of chemo and other assorted pharmaceutical cocktails and is now only left with some injections that help the bones. Now the awful effects start to kick in like nausea, bone pain, weakness, etc.

She’s trying to be strong through all this and not take a ton of medications, but it’s not the time to be a martyr. I learned a LONG time ago that when you have a serious illness or injury NEVER get behind the pain curve. You can’t catch up and the medicine will not be as effective. Don’t chase pain.

On top of all of that, parts of the treatment bring out the worst in your personality or change it all together. This makes it hard on my dad because how is he supposed to sit there and watch her hurt or be sick when she needn’t be?

I tried to figure out why someone would refuse or delay medications when they were readily available, and all I can come up with is it’s the last form of control you have.

You have a disease that’s already threatened your life, made you uproot and separate you from your family and head down a long road of difficult treatments. These are things that have been put upon you – you didn’t choose them. Perhaps choosing the timing of your medications is the last thing on this road you have a choice about. Pretty shitty, huh?

I think I’ll remind her of something I knew being pregnant the first time. There were all these women talking about how awful a c-section would be. They wouldn’t feel like a “real mother” if they hadn’t gone through the gauntlet of “natural” childbirth. WTF?

Oh, please. It didn’t matter how you got the baby, just that the baby showed up and was healthy. Same thing. It doesn’t make you any more a hero or survivor by jacking with the meds. All that matters is that you get through it as easily as you can and come out the other side with time.

My folks are amazing people individually. But together they are extraordinary. They have been together since they were set up on a blind date at the age of 15 at a youth group bowling event. (How 50s, right?)

45 years.

I just hope they can remember in the middle of all this that while there may be stretches of days that are more awful than they could have ever imagined at 15, at the end of this path is 15 more years.

Or more.

So, Mom, take the medicine. And, Dad, take a breath. And soon? I-45 will take you home.

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One Response to “The Battle for Control”

  1. Leslie Says:

    I think thats exactly what it is, control!
    Thanks for sharing something so personal.
    Keep your chin up.