The Very First Week

Yesterday the surgeon put in a permanent Port-A-Cath (a permanent port under the skin for chemotherapy and injections ). I really didn't like it at all. If I repeat that last sentence three times and click my heals would you believe me more. Done!

Today Paige babysat me and brought (and bought) me some easy going 'street clothes' for wearing in the Transitional Care Unit. Encouraged for the transition home. "A place requiring a personal shopper." 

Beside Paige as a vital member of the team - Shelby has been here every day I'm here with one exception or two. Her get-up-and-go gets her here after she gets up and dressed and goes back as school lets out. She's had the front row seat without denial.

I asked Shelby last week if she could remember what had happened that very first week. This morning I once again ran across her notes. It meant so much more to me than I had imagined that I'm pleased to share this with all of you.

SUN July 1

MOM MADE IT THROUGH THE NIGHT! Dr. Khaja tells Shelby in the hall again! Sorry to give you it's bad news but we think your mom has cancer. We see spots on her lungs, liver and spleen. Dr. Khaja waits for me to tell mom, but I can't. So he comes back in her room and begins to tell her how sorry he is. She looks at me like, "What is he talking about?" You have cancer, mom. We start crying. Shelby has her first "meltdown." Just then David Lloyd walks into the room.

MON July 2

TUE July 3

Moved to cancer floor.

WED July 4

Quiet day

THUR July 5

Biopsy? Yes, your mom has stage 4 cancer. ((Matthew is in town and comes by for a visit))

FRI July 6

First Chemo

Doctor thinks it's a good time for the family to come. Paige, Roger and Bri fly down.

SAT July 7

Whole family visits: Paige, Roger, Bri, David Lloyd, David William, Jim, Sam, Shelby and of course, Dave.

Back to me (Janice) ---- I still had no idea what all of this meant, especially that new word 'cancer'. Those first seven days belonged to everyone else but me. I just wanted to sleep. But this is my support system and I've not spent a moment. The one breakthrough moment for my brain was when my extremely loving and quiet 13 year-old grandson walked up to my bed, leaned over close to my ear and quietly uttered, "I love you Grandma." 

That's it - this is serious!