I still don't understand

After three weeks in the hospital trying to recover from the infection, it was time to go home. Mom still had a few weeks on an intense schedule of medicine treatments. Plus the infection had taken a toll on Mom and therapy was needed to help her with walking, writing and reading. We were able to get a room at the Mendota Community Hospital in their Bridge to Home program. This allowed us to go home, be close to family, church members and community support. She wasn’t 100% better, but for us it was a sign of us moving in the right direction. Because of the long drive, we had Mom transported by ambulance. While Mom was in the hospital she had gotten her radiation treatments and the focus had really been on dealing with the infection, that addressing the cancer was almost second in thought.

However before we left I met with the doctor and asked for clarification of what extent the cancer was at. The doctor explained that we probably had a year or a little more. I helped load Mom in the ambulance and then got in my own car to follow. As I settled in I thought about that statement…”a year or a little more.” I processed that more and thought, do I tell anyone? How would Mom take the news, or Dad or anyone? Would Mom give up or work really hard to get everything done? Then I thought what will I do? Do I come home every weekend, take more time off or go back to life like normal? Overwhelmed with emotions and questions I called Dave to ask him to help me process. My husband was so patient and understanding during this difficult time as he let me take care of family things as he took care of things at home. In that moment he said he would support whatever I felt I needed to do.

Still not knowing what I would do, I decided for that time it would be important to just be present in the moment, enjoy the time I had and be positive to keep Mom strong. We got to the hospital and Dad, Grandma and Rita were there to greet us. The nurse had a series of questions to answer and I rattled off all the details, medicine and expectations for therapy and treatments. Mom was also visited by the doctor who would be taking care of her. The doctor seemed somewhat surprised that she was there, but at the time we did not know what that meant.

Then lunch was delivered. Rita asked if she could have the brownie. Mom gave her a dirty look and said “no.” It was funny to see her so determined for her food. Who could blame her though as she had the same menu for the last 4 weeks so it was nice to have some other options? We then sat around and talked and celebrated that Mom was back in Mendota. As everyone got ready to leave I asked Mom if she wanted me to stay. She at first said I should go home and get to sleep in a bed. Then I responded that this room was nicer than all of them as it had a futon I could sleep on and I was planning on staying until Monday anyways so I could stay. She then looked up at me with these sad eyes and whispered, “Could you stay with me?” I responded of course and gave her a kiss on her forehead. I was grateful she was going to let me stay. I had only been away from Mom for such a limited time over those five weeks. I was just as desperate to stay with her as I was happy to know she wanted me there as well. The futon was a welcome addition too.

Sunday not much had happened, but Mom did not seem to be doing very well. However we just figured it was because she finally wanted to rest from the long journey. Sunday night I did go stay at my parent’s house but was back early to meet with the doctor on Monday morning to discuss the plans.

Monday Dad and I got to the hospital and Mom was not doing well at all. Her diabetes numbers were all over the place. The Doctor said she was running tests but may not have results until later. I once again questioned what I should do…stay or head home. I decided to stay until the test results were back.

Monday afternoon the doctor came to share that her liver was shutting down. They would administer other medicine to see what could be done and if her body would respond. We were all shocked. How could this be? We just got done with the infection and the liver was never a concern. However earlier that week still in Peoria, we had pointed out to the doctor how yellow Mom’s eyes seemed to appear. The doctor at that time said they did some checks and did not mention any concerns with the liver. So how could this happen?

On Tuesday the Doctor came back and said the cancer was too invasive and with medicine we could keep Mom alive for a few more weeks. Dad and I knew we were done…the fight was over. No more medicine. No more tests. No more poking, prodding, guessing, fighting. We were done. That is how Mom would have wanted it.

To this day out of all that had happened this is what I question most. How did we go from having a year to a week? How did we recognize the yellow in her eyes while in Peoria, but they found nothing and then in a few days the cancer had taken over the liver? How did we go from a celebration of being to home, to the realization she was really going home to heaven? I can sometimes drive myself crazy trying to figure this out. What brings me comfort is that if we would have known about the liver malfunction in Peoria, we would have had to figure out how to take care of Mom in my Parent’s house instead of having the first class care at the hospital. If Mom would have had a year she would have either been miserable because she wouldn’t have been able to work, or overworked herself to get everything in place. Mom never wanted to be in pain and that was achieved. I had questioned how Dad and I would change our lives and now I didn’t need to figure that out.

I will never understand what went wrong, what did we miss and how could Peoria have been so wrong. Yet I keep looking to the good that came out of this to help keep the tears at bay and the questions quiet. My heart still aches, but in the end I trust that God had a plan and I can see the good. Most of all I am grateful that God protected Mom, Dad and I from having to make some of the most difficult decisions during the end of life process, since He made them for us.