Thursday, May 29, 2008

donation option #2

For those who would rather donate toward medical research, we are encouraging donations to Memorial Sloan Kettering. All three of us are a little bit in love with MSK. They took such good care of our Mom. Every ounce of that place is amazing. 

We've specified that donations made in her honor go toward lung cancer research. Cancer is everywhere. The work is important - it need not be emphasized.

If you'd like to donate online you can do so here. Please be sure to specify under "Tributes and Special Occasions" that the gift is in memory of Janet Ward. We will be able to track donations, but only those that are specifically given in her honor.

As an alternative, you may send a check with "in the memory of Janet Ward" in the memo line to:

Memorial Sloan-Kettering
Attn: Danielle Burke
633 Third Avenue, 28th Floor
New York, NY  10017

Thanks all.  Much love.

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

donation option #1

Holy hell it's been a month today.
Anyway.

For those who've inquired about donations in Mom's name, here's the first option.  I'll hopefully post info later this week about the second (lots of phone tag going on).

Intentional Theater is a theater company helmed by Miriam Eusebio, Mom's cherished friend and fabulous director of the February 2009 NYC production of Happy Days.  The role of Winnie, which of course was to have been played by Mom, will now be played by her dear friend, Asta Hanson. Miriam told me that if Asta couldn't do it, they probably wouldn't have gone on with the production. It means a lot that someone who loved Mom and knew her well will take over the role. 

Donations to Intentional Theater will help with production costs and will help secure the rights. As many of you know (and especially Jennifer, who has boxes of his books to prove it), Samuel Beckett was near and incredibly dear to Mom's heart, as was this production.  A donation to Intentional is very Janet Ward.

Here's the pertinent donation info from Intentional Theater:

Intentional Theater can accept tax deductible donations through our fiscal sponsor, The Field*. If you would like to donate to us in this way, please write a check made out to "The Field" with "Intentional Theater" in the memo. Mail the check to Intentional Theater at the address below.

Intentional Theater
175 5th Avenue #26
Brooklyn, NY  11215

*The Field is a not-for-profit, tax-exempt, 501 (c) (3) organization serving the New York City performing arts community.  Contributions made to The Field and earmarked for Intentional Theater are tax deductible to the extent allowed by law. For more information about The Field contact: The Field, 161 6th Avenue, New York, NY 10013, (212) 691-6969, fax: (212) 255-2053, www.thefield.org. email: info@thefield.org. A copy of The Field's latest annual report may be obtained, upon request, from The Field or from the Office of the Attorney General, Charities Bureau, 120 Broadway, New York, NY 10271.

Saturday, May 17, 2008

memorial info and donations

So we are all set for the memorial this Tuesday, May 20th, at St. James' Church. The actual service will start at 11am, but the choral prelude, performed by members of the Compostela Choir, will begin sometime before that. I would encourage anyone who wants to hear the prelude (which will be amazing) to try to get to the church by 10:30 or 10:45. St. James' is located at 865 Madison Avenue, between 71st and 72nd Streets, on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. There will be a reception following the service in Sunderland Hall, located in the parish hall adjacent to the church. We will also plan a Jimmy's Corner hang for later in the afternoon/early evening.

The family will provide flowers for the church, so we are asking that those who would like to contribute something please check back here in the next few days, as we are still finalizing details. We will most likely present several options for donation, since Mom was ever the multifaceted girl. Information will be posted shortly though, so please do check back.  

Also - on a personal note - I just want to thank everyone who sent me a sympathy card over these past weeks.  I got home from San Francisco last night and had a really good cry, reading all of your sweet sweet notes and sentiments.  I really appreciate the love and support. Hope to see many of you on Tuesday. Thanks.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

boxes of stuff


First, thanks so much to everyone who came out on Sunday to the west coast memorial for Mom, and especially to Alison Tassie for organizing and hosting. I'd never been to the Exit Theatre before but as soon as I walked in I thought, "oh yeah. this is her."

It was great to meet new faces and hear virtual strangers (among some very familiar faces) talk so poignantly about Mom and how much she impacted their lives. Her reach was great - we knew this. But Jenn and I were talking today, and we realized it's actually comforting to know that we're not the only ones walking around right now, wondering how the world is still in fact spinning.

So, among the guests on Sunday was a family that we have known for a very long time. The Arntsons lived down the street from us on Harmony Place for many years, and when we moved in Lenore (the mama) and our Mom became fast friends. They maintained their close friendship through many life changes, and before Mom moved to New York she asked Lenore & Dick to keep some of her boxes at their house in Morro Bay, near San Luis Obispo. They not only drove up to the memorial on Sunday (along with their daughter Shawna and her husband Don) but also brought six of Mom's boxes with them, to give to us.

Jennifer and I spent most of the day and night yesterday going through everything. We missed having Clancy here for that, especially since we ran across tons of our writings, artwork, photos, etc. that of course Mom kept for all these years. But we're saving stuff for him! Even more interesting than all of our stuff was the huge pile of letters we found. Mom was really close to her Grandma Ward (the original one!) and wrote her many many MANY letters over the years. When her Grandma Ward passed away, Mom apparently retrieved all of those letters from G'ma Ward's house and has kept them with her ever since. It was pretty great stuff and really made us feel more connected to her in a powerful way. She wrote letters from Pasadena, from Hollywood, from New York in the '60s, from Newport in the '50s, and it seemed like she felt a freedom to really be herself in those letters, no matter what. Pretty great.

So now we have lots more pictures of Mom, but having so much of her writing in our grubby little hands is just a gift we never anticipated. Don't get me wrong though - I love pictures! Attached is a picture of a picture - we're guessing it's from 1959 or 1960 and we love it! Dig the fish dress.

Also, for those who haven't yet heard, the official occupation listed on the Death Certificate: poet.

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

whoah st. james'

So I met with Craig Townsend today, the Associate Rector at St. James', and Davis Wortman, the Director of Music (my boss) there. All I can say is wow and whoah.  I'm just blown away by the love and generosity everyone at St. James' has shown me in preparation for this memorial. I really think this service will be beautiful and cathartic.

And speaking of love and generosity, I'm so honored that members of the Compostela Choir, the all-pro group I sing with at St. James', are donating their time and performing a choral prelude to the service. Davis and I hand-picked the music today (Byrd, Purcell, Howells, etc. - good stuff!). Mom would be thrilled, of that I am sure. The service will be structured with jazz and poetry as its centerpiece.  And while some of the things on Mom's wishlist are impossible for the actual service, I do think that everything we're doing will honor her and remain true to who she is and what she wants.

I look forward to seeing everyone on the east coast there May 20th, 11am, and I'm soooo ready to spend the coming week in San Francisco with Jenn, Dan & the kids.  Can't wait to squeeze them all! So glad I'll be there for the west coast memorial on Sunday too. Hopefully it'll make Mother's Day a little more bearable. Exit Theatre: perfection.

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

san francisco memorial

The lovely Alison Tassie has scored the Exit Theatre as a venue for us to hold a memorial in San Francisco this coming Sunday (yes, Mother's Day, whee) at 5:00 in the evening. The Exit is at 156 Eddy St between Mason and Taylor. Do me a favor and post a quick comment if you're planning to attend, and please pardon the double-inviting if you also get an email from Alison or me; I'm trying to find all the west coast folks who might want to gather in mom's honor. As for what we'll do, I think it will be some combination of reading her poems and sharing stories. There will be some sort of food and drink, too.

The St. James event on the 20th will be quite a different affair; some of you know that she had very specific wishes for her memorial service, involving mainly poems and music (including, in a last embarrassing-mom move, two that I wrote for her in my early twenties) and recordings of music that she loved. However, they don't so much allow recorded music at St. James, and they have certain prayers they like to say and verses they like to read. So the service in New York will be quite a bit churchier than we were originally planning, but we think it will be good to gather everyone together and send her off with a bit of pomp and hereafter. She wants us all to go to Jimmy's Corner, as well, but we don't think she realized that "all of us" is likely to amount to more than the 40 people that can fit in Jimmy's Corner, so we will have a little reception in the church basement first so that we can accommodate everyone. Diehards will meet at Jimmy's Corner later.

Edited to add: the Exit invite is here. It's open, and I'm sure I forgot people, so feel free to send it to others you think would like to be there.

one last call for a place to stay

We're making travel plans for this one last trip to New York, and we're running up against the usual problem: where can we put two grownups and two small kids in space-scarce New York City? If you have any leads, we'd love to know about them. Clancy and family have a place already, which is great. We'll be there from the 19th to the 23rd, or around there.

Sarah is going to come to San Francisco this week. It'll be good to be with her. And finally, stay tuned for news about a San Francisco memorial or wake or whatever I manage to figure out--possibly at the Edinburgh Castle, where Mom performed a few plays back when she lived here.

Bah.

Monday, May 5, 2008

wake part 2

Thanks so so so so much to everyone who came by on Saturday. Thanks for all the foodmaking, hug-giving and just for the hang. It was really great to see everyone and just be together.

I now have food for an army in my house (thanks again!) and a lot of it is perishable, so for anyone who wasn't able to make it on Saturday or, ya know, feels like coming again, please stop by tomorrow night - say from 7pm on. I have many beers and bottles of wine too. No need to bring anything! Check the last post for address info.  

Thanks!

Saturday, May 3, 2008

today - reminder

Just wanted to make sure everyone around New York knows that I'm hosting a wee wake of sorts (though we're not Catholic) for the Mama today. It's an open house sort of deal, so just come when you're able, any time after 1pm. Feel free to bring food, drink, hugs, stories and photos - we'll have a bit of all that here already but can always use more.

My address:
59 East 3rd Street #5D, between 1st and 2nd Aves. Nearest subways: 6 train at Bleecker, F train at 2nd Avenue.

Also. We've been getting a lot of questions about donations in lieu of flowers, and whether or not Mom had a charity or organization in mind. We've not decided yet, as she didn't tell us anything specific, but we're thinking that something in the arena of the theater would be obviously appropriate. If anyone has ideas they'd like to contribute as we make that decision, they'd be most welcome.

Thanks guys. Hope to see some of you later. Much love.

Thursday, May 1, 2008

a funny thing happened today

Some of you know that I had a catering job today and decided not to cancel it, instead choosing to do a really strange, extreme version of people-die-and-then-we-make-food. The menu was big and labor-intensive; I asked friends to come help me achieve it all, and they did--my kitchen was full of people into the night, and we got it all done. It was great to cook, it seemed like just the right thing.

Today I arrived at the job with food for 100 people, only to discover that...the party is not on May 1. It's May 31. So--if you're in the Bay Area, please come over tonight to eat food. It's 256 Hartford Street, from 5:00 pm or so.

I can't imagine a more perfect way to have people over to remember her.

official memorial set

Mom's memorial will be Tuesday May 20th at 11am at my church job home, St. James' Church. St. It's located at 865 Madison between E. 71st and E. 72nd and all are welcome.  We'll have a reception afterward at Jimmy's Corner, one of Mom's favorite favorite bars (this was one of her many wishes regarding the memorial).  Leave it to Janet Ward to encourage early afternoon drinking on a Tuesday. 

Thanks everyone.  Hope to see some of you on Saturday.

Wednesday, April 30, 2008

new york unofficial memorial

As Jenn mentioned, the official memorial for Mom will be in a few weeks, but this weekend I think it would be a good good thing for everyone who's in New York to come together and love on one another a bit.  

If you feel so inclined, please come by my East Village apartment this coming Saturday.  We'll have an unofficial Janet Ward celebration.  I have a studio apartment, but I had a wine party here a few years ago and the place was packed, so we'll make it work.

Feel free to bring food, wine, whisky or just yourselves, your pictures and your stories. I'm feeling a strong need for the people. I know there are so many who love her and were impacted by her energy and spirit in a totally inexpressible and profound way, so stop by if you can any time after 1pm this Saturday, May 3rd. It'll just be an open house so come by, on into the evening. I'm at 59 East 3rd Street #5D, between 1st and 2nd Avenues.

Thanks all for everything you've done and continue to do.  Love love and love.

she's gone

She died today, around 3:00 this afternoon Eastern Time, surrounded by many visitors, and very peacefully. My cousin Danielle described her passing as: "she breathed in, and breathed out. Breathed in, breathed out. Breathed in, breathed out. And then we waited for her to take another breath, and she just didn't." So, it was as peaceful as we could have wished for, and she got her wish of not having a long time as a sick person, and now she's just photos and poems and the bits of us that she made better.

There will be a service in New York sometime during the week of May 23. Her remains are being donated to medical research, according to her wishes. If you're on the west coast and want to come to a memorial of some kind out here, let me know--I'll probably host something informal at my house, possibly in a week and a half or so. Sarah will likely have people over on Saturday sometime, but I'll let her post about that.

Love to all.

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

getting close

From all Sarah's accounts (I've been away from New York since Friday), she's been much worse ever since transferring to Calvary: it reached the point today where she isn't really eating or drinking anything, even when a straw is held to her lips. She doesn't talk, but makes appreciative noises (the infamous-in-our-family "hmmmm") when someone is reading or playing something she likes. Sarah asked the doctor there today the time question, and got an alarming answer: 24 to 72 hours. Hours. We're taking her assessment with a grain of salt, since she's only known Mom for a week, but she is starting to act like she's on her way out, and we've never been through anything like this before, but it doesn't seem like it will be long.

Other people have these months-long dying processes, or get diagnosed with alarming cancers and continue to live for many months afterward, but this has just been one horrifying downward, smoke-spewing spiral. We have all (including her) said since the beginning that if she can have her life back, we want that, but we don't want some endless-seeming suffering. "I feel like I'm turning into something else," she said to Sarah and me while we were waiting for the second spinal tap a few mere weeks ago. It's hard to face what's coming, though.

Visitors are still welcome, though the food mentioned in Sarah's last post might be moot at this point. Love.

Sunday, April 27, 2008

hard

So today was really really hard.  I went to see Mom at the hospital - met our friend Miriam and my Aunt Judi there - and she was so so out of it, asleep, but druggily so.  We literally could not wake her up.  I finally talked to a doctor (one filling in this weekend, not the regular doctor) who looked at her history and chart and said she thinks it's a combination of the pain meds and the progression of the disease. They agreed to lower her dosage of morphine and see how it affects her alertness, and how she then manages the pain.  Their main concern is her comfort, and while I understand that, I know that she doesn't want to exist in this state.  She needs to be in the room. She was a little more alert when I left this evening (a few hours later), but not too much.  She did wake up to eat, and ate even better than yesterday, so that's good.  

Also, Judi bought a little Discman and some headphones for her - she's still in a shared room - and Mom listened for awhile to a recording our friend Carla sent of Nikki Giovanni reading her poems.  She dug that.  Then I decided to try some music.  I put on Alan Ferber's first nonet album, and Mom burst into tears, perked right up, and I could tell was really impacted by the music. Oh the power of music.

When you guys visit, maybe bring some things you can read to her, things to engage her a bit (along with your squeezes and hand strokes).  Also.  The food is less than stellar at this place, and she's kind of beholden to whatever they're offering (no menu really), so bringing little things to eat for her like: cottage cheese, ice cream, a vanilla shake, and other relatively liquidy yummy snacks, would be great.  She's able to chew and swallow, but the liquid(ish) stuff is easier for her.  Calvary will label and keep food for her for up to 48 hours.

Saturday, April 26, 2008

she's doing okay

So I saw Mom today and she was doing much better than yesterday - especially after I performed food-Nazi duties and forced her to eat her soup/bread/milk.  She did very well!

I can't help but be a little sad and brokenhearted that she's no longer at Sloan, with Dr. P sitting by her bedside, the "fine bouquet of foods" and sweet staff of nurses.  Calvary has a totally different vibe - they're very sweet there, but it's just different and I guess Mom's not the only one adjusting.

She was pretty out of it yesterday - falling asleep midsentence and the like - but today she perked up pretty shortly after my friend Tracy and I arrived (my Aunt Judi was there too - in town, staying at Mom's place, until next Thurs).  Her food came while we were there, and I pretty much forced her to eat as much as she could (little did I know that someday I'd be using my Dad's words: "just two more big bites!" on my Mom).  

So.

For those who want to visit and/or send flowers, cards, letters, etc., here is the mailing address for now (I say "for now" because she's still in a shared room, a temporary situation):

Janet Ward
Calvary Hospital, Room 307A
150 55th Street
Brooklyn, NY  11220

Please feel free to visit her at the hospital.  Enter at the main entrance, walk up the escalator, and ask them at the Information Desk to direct you to Calvary Hospital.  

My Aunt Judi is with her every day, as am I, but I think all visitors are really good for her right now.  Of course you may get there and find that she's sleeping, but even so, I think just being in the room is a good, good thing for her right now.  Squeeze a hand, stroke a cheek.

I would also ask that, for EVERYONE who visits - do me a favor and, should you be there while Mom gets a meal of any kind, please please encourage her to eat, and when I say encourage, I mean nag.  She's still feeling the effects of brain radiation, the move, etc., so she's weak and wiped out.  Nourishment is just of the utmost importance right now....also, good energy, love and big hugs.  These will all help her.  I was amazed to watch her transformation in just a few short hours: all we did was hold her hand, make her laugh, read some letters to her, tell some stories, and of course forcefeed her. Heh.  So if I can see the difference in a few short hours, then it seems to me that it's very real.

Please let's all help to make her strong.  We want Janet Ward, through and through, for as long as we can have her.

Thursday, April 24, 2008

she's there

After a very sweet and gentle ambulance transfer, and heartfelt goodbyes from all the nurses and doctors on the 14th floor, she's at Calvary Hospital in Lutheran Medical Center, in Brooklyn. She's in great spirits, and very happy to be there. Let's give her a break from visitors for a few days while she settles in. Thanks to all for your good wishes--and especially to Ben, who helped us figure out the many twists and turns of today. Love.

going to brooklyn

We just found out that they have a bed for Mom and she will move to Brooklyn today sometime (don't know when exactly).

YAY!  

My good friend Alicia and I are moving the stuff she'll want from her apartment (postcards, music, books, sweats).

Jennifer and Mom's friend Ben are with her in the hospital right now.  They'll hopefully ride to Brooklyn in the ambulance with Mom. 

More soon!

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

brooklyn hospice visit

We liked the Brooklyn facility a lot.

Jenn, Oona and I took the train down there this morning, and the people there were very warm and sweet.  We talked to the head doctor, who was very nice.  He asked our Mom's name and I assured him that she would quickly become his favorite patient.  His answer: oy vey.

It's all wood and glass in there, and there's a lot of natural light.  Just as in the Bronx, visitors are welcome 24/7.

Meanwhile at MSK, Mom apparently informed the powers that be that she'd like to go to Brooklyn instead of the Bronx (this was before we even reported back so I guess she had an instinct).  Here's how it'll go:  If a room opens up in the Bronx facility first, she will go there initially, but meanwhile she's on the top of the list (we think) to get to Brooklyn as soon as a room is available.  We're hoping there will be one move, not two, but who knows.  We'll of course post an update as soon as her location changes.

Our Grandpa flies out this afternoon - he's been such an amazing support and help with Oona (she adores him) and a real sturdy post for Jenn and I to lean on (Jenn said it's like having a grown-up in the room - heh).  He also got to see Clancy, Sarah and the kids on the tail end of their stay here, so that was way good.

Tomorrow Jenn and I will head to Mom's apartment to start trying to organize a bit. Thanks everyone, for all the offers of moving help.  We will try to get organized and ask for help as we need it. 

Visitors are welcome at Sloan.  As Jenn mentioned in a comment a few days ago, Mom's in Room 1412B, which can be accessed by entering at 1275 York Avenue, walking up the escalator and taking the M elevators to the 14th floor.  As always, please be healthy when you visit, clean your hands when you enter the room and try not to stay longer than an hour or so.  She's pretty wiped out these days from all of the radiation, and needs lots of rest.

Also, out-of-towners are of course welcome.  Everyone's been asking me when would be a "good time".  I'd say a good time is whenever you feel like it.  Mom has scores of fans and admirers, so there' s a constant flux of people around, but I think that's good.  Don't be shy.  

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

hospice investigation

My Grandpa and I took the long (l-o-n-g long) train/bus ride to Calvary Hospital, which is the inpatient hospice Pietanza recommends.  They have two campuses: one in the Bronx and one in Brooklyn.  We saw the one in the Bronx today, which is an all-hospice hospital.  The catchphrase in the entryway declares "where life continues".  Harumph.

We took a tour of the place and here's some of the information we have:
  • she'd have her own private 12x12 room and a shared bathroom (one other patient)
  • her stuff can be all over the room, just not taped to the walls
  • visitors are allowed 24/7, kids of all ages included
  • there's an outdoor terrace
  • the ratio of nurses to patients is 1:8
  • her doctor (no longer Pietanza, once she's in the facility - sadness) would check on her once a day, and she'd also be under the care of a dietician
  • there are 4 floors of patients, with 50 patients on each floor
  • The Bronx is really annoying and desolate and far far away 
So tomorrow we'll go to Brooklyn, where the Calvary Hospital hospice facility is made up of only 25 beds in an actual hospital.  The appeal to us of hospice in actual hospital rather than hospice-only lies with the "some people are getting up out of bed, going home and getting better" concept - something about that energy swirling about makes us hopeful, or more hopeful at least, for Mom's contentment.

The trip to the Bronx was almost an hour exactly (bus and train included) from the 68th St subway station to Calvary Hospital.  We'll see how it goes tomorrow - we're going in the morning.

As a side note: for those who may have known about my upcoming gig at Bar Next Door on Monday the 28th, just wanted to let you know that I'm canceling.  Things are just too raw, and the thought of losing it in front of an audience, or when given hugs by any of those audience members: blech.  Can't deal.  Maybe part of it too is that Mom has been to so many gigs of mine, and although she suggested that I just leave out all tracks from my album as a way to avoid tears - well, it's a nice thought, but every song reminds me of her.

Monday, April 21, 2008

stopping treatment

Well, we knew this was coming, but it doesn't make it any easier: she's too sick to have chemotherapy, too sick to do anything, really--so they're stopping treatment. She'll be moved to Calvary Hospital (which could SO have a better name) in the Bronx, the best place for in-patient "palliative care," apparently. She'll have her own room. She'll have different doctors, whose job it will be to keep her comfortable. Dr. P, when pressed, said that she didn't think Mom would live two months. She'll likely be there by the end of the week, so check here for updates before going to visit.

She'll be moving out of her apartment, so if you want to help with that, there will be opportunity over the next few weeks. If anyone has moving boxes laying about, we can use them--for now, we're just working on moving the complete works of Samuel Beckett to her new room, but later we'll be actually packing stuff to move out.

Sorry for the dull tone of this--we're heartbroken and exhausted, and I can't think of a better way to say it.

Sunday, April 20, 2008

like weather

She had great energy yesterday and was very much herself--or, the version of herself that can't move out of bed or breathe very well--she was telling stories all day, and was definitely less floaty. My grampa brought clippers to the hospital last night and gave her another headshaving; I haven't seen it yet because Oona and I spent the morning moving out of the Brooklyn place, and Oona is napping now at Sarah's, so when she wakes up we'll go to the hospital.

Friday, April 18, 2008

now

Well, I don't think that anymore, so I guess I should post again. She goes from the mask to the tube and back again, threw up several times yesterday and the day before, can barely move from bed (although did today, once), and is recovering from hives she got from an allergy she developed to one of the antibiotics. She's also more, I don't know--Sarah and I are using the word "floaty." Her eyes do this strange REM sleep looking-for-something-in-space thing. Her sentences trail off. She goes back and forth between very lucid and really out of it. My grampa says she's just tired, and maybe that's true. She had three radiation treatments this week, and will have another tomorrow and the last one on Sunday or Monday. Then, supposedly, we wait seven days and she gets another dose of chemotherapy, but we can't imagine her getting to a state where that's possible: you have to be able to walk through the door to get chemo.

Oona and I are still in New York--I got alarmed by the floatiness, I guess; it just seemed wrong to leave. We're staying in Brooklyn through the weekend, then moving in with Sarah till Friday and trying Operation Get Oona to Sleep in the Kitchen again. If anyone is up for staying with her in Sarah's East Village place some night so we can have a sister date and process a bit, please let me know. She actually sleeps at night now, hooray!

And for a bit of levity, here is a photo of Oona enjoying a very amazing pumpernickel bagel in Brooklyn today:

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

stable and holding


We were all at the hospital with her today: my Grampa, Clancy, Sarah and I. She had a radiation treatment (5th of 10) in the morning, and in the afternoon, Dr. P. came to talk to us. She said that Mom's condition is stable (up from critical and tenuous, two few days ago), but said that she'll be in the hospital for many days--at least over the weekend--while they get her breathing on her own. She currently has an oxygen mask, along with various breathing treatments.

They'll start physical therapy on her chest tomorrow, too, to loosen any mucous and keep yesterday's bronchoscopy from having to be repeated too soon. The tumor in her right lung has grown, but the fluid around her heart turned out to be a very small amount when they did an echocardiogram, not significant enough to need treatment. Dr. P is hopeful that we'll be able to start chemo a week after she's done with radiation, to keep the growth of the tumors in check.

So all in all, we got fair news today--she's not well, but she's not as bad as we thought. She has a wry sort of sassiness, these days, and isn't in too much pain. Oona and I will head home on Friday.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

she's doing well

So I met with Dr. Park after they finished the bronchoscopy. It took about two hours all told, and he was happy with the results. He said that mucuous and necrotic material had built up in the stent, so it definitely was not functioning properly. Because the stent failed to function, the entire lung collapsed, thus severely disrupting Mom's breathing. He said they used full anesthesia during the surgery although they had planned to use partial, but now in recovery, she was breathing on her own (i.e. without a breathing tube).  

Park wants to send Mom home from the hospital with something called a nebulizer, which she can have every 4 hours, and is a means of keeping the airway free of muck (aren't I technical?). There was mention of this the last time she was in the hospital but in the end we were sent home nebulizerless, so this time we will jump up and down.  

She'll spend the night tonight in recovery. She's doing well and is in good spirits - also talking more, which means she's breathing easier. Grandpa and Jennifer came back to the hospital from Brooklyn after I talked to Jenn, mid-bronchoscopy, and she realized that I was a bit wonky on my own there (I didn't actually tell her - she heard something in my voice.  Gotta love siblings). When they arrived at the hospital, the three of us found a local pub, had a beer and a bite, then came back to the hospital to visit with Mom in recovery. From the time I talked to Park to the time we saw Mom, it was about 90 minutes or so. She's in good hands in recovery, and will be back in her own room tomorrow morning, we think.

Hopefully she'll be back home to her house before the end of the week.

in bronchoscopy now

I'm once again in the waiting room while Mom gets a bronchoscopy. I saw Dr. Park in pre-surgery, and he said that I shouldn't leave the building because this will be quick (that really means that the procedure itself will be quick but NOT that Mom will be out of recovery quickly - that always takes a bit of time). I will have a meeting with him when the surgery is finished and he'll update me on everything.

She's doing okay - spent the day with Clancy & Jennifer, and I got here around 4pm. She had a procedure earlier today that inserted some contraption into her veins and will hopefully prevent future blood clots. She's still using the heavy duty oxygen mask, and is pretty weak. But you'd be weak too if you hadn't eaten a scrap in more than 24 hours (no eating before bronchoscopies...them's the berries).

She was pretty tired before surgery - slept a bit while I watched, so that was good. Our Grandpa's here and o'course Jennifer and Oona. It's good to all be together. More updates soon.

Monday, April 14, 2008

a little more info

Tomorrow morning, first thing, Mom will have another bronchoscopy with Dr. Park. They're performing it in an operating room this time, rather than the usual bronchoscopy suite, because of the precarious situation with her heart and lungs, They want to be sure that all of the tools and equipment that might prove necessary, in the event of an emergency, are right there at their fingertips.

Erin, Dr. Pietanza's assistant, came to meet with us several times throughout the day, and when she stopped by for the last time, in the evening, she said that all of the issues Mom's dealing with right now are reversible but we just have to be careful (in other words Mom can't really move around at all for now because her breathing and oxygen levels become highly disrupted).We need to make certain that Mom doesn't get sicker before we have the chance to fix what's wrong. The fluid around her heart has revealed itself to be a result of dehydration, and nothing worse, so that's good news.  She is on fluids, and they've also changed her anticoagulant medication - apparently her system grew too accustomed to the daily Lovenox injections, so it then became ineffective.  Hopefully the new medication will take care of the blood clot in the lungs (pulmonary embolism).  

Jenn and Oona, Grandpa - tomorrow.

tenuous

The news is bad today. Her breathing trouble stems from a few thinga: a blood clot in her right lung, fluid around her heart, and the stent in her trachea appears to have moved. A CT scan today revealed that her entire right lung is basically collapsed (that's the one that they had given up on). Dr. P describes her situation as "tenuous." I'm writing this in between packing to head out with Oona on a redeye tonight. She can't walk more than a few steps without getting utterly winded, and was unable to breathe today even with a full oxygen mask on. They're going to do everything they can for her, and all the above problems are, to some extent, treatable, but the scary part is that she doesn't have much strength right now for healing. Please send whatever good juice you've got.

Oh, and here's a photo of her "in happier times," with Clancy and Ida, mere days ago.

back in urgent care

When Mom left for her radiation appointment today, she was in pretty bad shape - having trouble breathing and very weak.   Mom's friend Katrin who's been in town and staying with Mom since Thursday called me, very worried.  I guess the guys at Sloan weren't happy with her condition either, because she's now in Urgent Care, and on oxygen.  Heading to the hospital in a few - more later.

Saturday, April 12, 2008

weekend off

Mom had the 5th round of brain radiation yesterday, and all is well there. She met with Drs. Ho and Houseman, and they want to begin the process (once again) on Monday of weaning her off the steroids. She has one more week of radiation, followed by a break and then most likely the 2nd round of chemo. We will meet with Dr. Pietanza at some point in the coming week or two to check in, reassess.  

Her spirits are still great. Her appetite has also gotten a lot better, so that's good to see, and I think we have wiped out the dehydration monster at last. Katrin has been in town since Thursday and is working her usual wonders - they're having a great visit. Our Grandpa will be here Tuesday for a week, which'll be great too. Clancy & the fam are still in town. Clancy's found some construction work (thanks everyone for all of the efforts in that regard) and a basement apartment in Williamsburg, through a friend of a friend. The family they're staying with even has homeschoolers so it's a good match.Not sure how long they'll be here but I'm guessing at least another week. It's really good to see the people on a regular basis. And I know Mom's loving every second with those grandkids.   

Thursday, April 10, 2008

still tired

So today was Day 4 of brain radiation, and it's still wiping Mom out. Her spirits have been amazing this week though, I have to say. She's been very talkative and vivacious, also very sassy, which is always good to see. She had nausea yesterday but didn't throw up - hooray! Tomorrow Mom will meet with Drs. Ho and Houseman (both radiation oncologists) so they can check in on her progress. We have one more week of brain radiation to go.

Ben was in town yesterday and visited with Mom for awhile last night. This weekend Gemma - Mom's director friend from CA - will be in town to see her, and this afternoon Katrin will be back in town, staying with Mom for the weekend.  Tuesday my Grandpa (Mom's stepdad) will be here for a week. There's lots of love and support around and that's great.  

I met with a social worker yesterday, in prep for the group therapy thing. I was amazed by how different I felt in that session yesterday as compared to our first one, in February. I feel like I've lived three lifetimes since February. The social worker told me I seem less in a state of crisis now, but I know I'm not used to this, nor will I ever be. Sometimes I forget for a minute - just a minute - but then it comes back to me like some kind of a brick in my belly.

Thanks everyone for all of the lovely bouquets. Mom's apartment is so fragrant right now, and I think the beauty of those flowers is really helping her - such a simple yet effective thing. Last night she had me move several bouquets around to just the right spot (note sassy comment above). Hey man, whatever I can do. 

Monday, April 7, 2008

first round of new radiation

So the Mama's pretty tired today.  I talked to her a few times post-radiation, and she sounded really really tired, said she just wants to sleep.  I think it went pretty well, although she did say it was hard.  I can't imagine.

They've moved her daily appointment up from 3pm to 9:30am, so at least she will get it over with early in the day.  They told us that radiation on the brain is a bit more exhausting (no surprise there I guess) than radiation on other parts, so I guess that's turning out to be true.

The docs also amped up her steroids again - she is now up to 16mgs a day.  The steroids supposedly help with the swelling in the brain, one of the primary causes of nausea for her these days.  The idea is that, once the swelling goes down, the nausea will subside, and maybe she'll feel better.  Hopefully the radiation will start to kick in/kick some ass soon too.

I'm just sad that she has to go through this.  It ain't right.  Choices in life should not be limited to nausea or exhaustion - especially not for Janet Ward.

In other news, I've decided to try to out a support group.  A social worker that I met with at Sloan in February (and will meet with again this week) suggested a support group, but at the time I really wasn't ready.  I think now I'm ready to hear what everyone else is going through. There are some options here and here. There are even some online support groups available, which is kind of intriguing. Might be scary and claustrophobia-inducing to be in a room with 10 other people whose moms, dads, siblings or kids have lung cancer. But we'll see - it's worth a shot.

Saturday, April 5, 2008

home again home again lalala

Mom finally left the hospital around 8:30 Thursday night.  Clancy was with her all day and accompanied her home.  She is soooooooooo happy to be home and I for one am really happy to see her there.  That hospital is nice, but home is home.

She had the brain mapping on Thursday, which I think was a  bit torturous (lying completely still for 45 minutes) but these people are very thorough, and that's a good thing.  She begins radiation to her brain on Monday afternoon.  She will have 10 sessions (M-F), followed by a break of about a week or more, and then we'll decide whether or not to continue with a 2nd round of chemo.  As it stands now, it looks like we will continue.  

As Mom says, "We will get through this."


Thursday, April 3, 2008

day of planning

So as of this moment Mom is still at the hospital, but she will go home tonight.  This morning we had a very successful meeting with Dr. Pietanza.  Ben, Mom, Clancy and I were all in the room.

Here are some words from Ben about this morning:

"It’s the in-between time that’s the hardest,” Janet said this morning as we waited for Dr. Pietanza to arrive. With last evening’s good news more fully digested the morning meeting felt less ominous – especially after a bowl of cream of wheat with banana, four whole slices of bacon and a hot cup of tea. Breakfast was followed by a hot shower (with Sarah’s loving assistance) and back into a clean bed. A good start to the day for certain.

The echo of Dr. Pietanza’s heels purposefully hitting the floor announced her arrival before she poked her head around the curtain. I think we all (Janet, Clancy, Sarah and Ben) held our breath as the long-awaited meeting got under way.

“Amazing” – there is simply no other word to describe Pietanza. She sat down on the bed and immediately took Janet’s hand and asked how she was feeling…. “Better,” was the answer offered up with a sense of certain, renewed energy.

A brief exchange was followed by a general overview: The cancer is now in the lining of the brain and there is a strong sense this is the cause of the nausea rather than post-chemo impact. Obviously, dealing with the brain spots and their effects is the first priority. In order to do that, the next step is a series of radiation treatments (10 doses over a period of about 2 weeks). This radiation precedes round two of chemo. This radiation will be ‘whole brain’ radiation which will deal not only with the three identified spots but also any other cancer cells that may be active in the brain lining (we liked this sentiment).

Knowing there were sheets of paper dripping with questions, Dr. P. decided to let the onslaught commence rather than continuing her monologue. And so we all began with our questions and she followed with the answers she had…

What’s the risk of radiation on the brain? Not much more risk than with the previous neck radiation she had on C2/C3 of the spine. Fatigue is likely and that varies by patient. There is limited risk of cognitive impairment but that is not likely and not a concern of Dr. P.

Her breathing is easier thanks to the nebulizer treatments. Is that something that can be continued at home? Yes (hooray!)… She will be sent home with a pipe-like treatment that will break-down the mucus and allow her wind passage to remain more comfortably open.

Why don’t we do chemo and radiation simultaneously? The combination would be too toxic. Chemo is more of a systemic treatment while the radiation is more ‘local’ in nature. Radiation allows the treatment of specific areas that need more immediate focus (i.e. the brain lining).

How fast is the cancer moving? Why were the brain spots not noticed before now? Are they new? This is hard to answer. The February MRI – not done by Sloan – may or may not have shown the spots. What we know is that the Tuesday MRI (done at Sloan) showed them and the nausea is further evidence of their presence so we’re going to deal with them immediately. We also know that per the last aggregate reading that the cancer is ‘stable’ meaning that it’s grown in some areas and recessed in others so no net increase. And, we know from the bronchoscopy that there is no further tumor encroachment so that’s good.

What has been the experience of other patients who have gotten whole brain radiation therapy? Again it varies but generally the cancer is immediately responsive. Fatigue will be the most negative side-effect and that varies by patient.

When we get to the second round of chemo is that typically better or worse than the first? The second round is typically better because we both have insights on how the patient reacts based on the first round and the body is more ready for the chemo based on the first experience. These things combined often means a better experience. The key is to communicate what Janet is experiencing so they can address those reactions. Dr. Pietanza stressed she felt the communications to date had been good and appropriate and that Janet should continue conveying exactly how she’s feeling so they can mitigate what they can.

How long between the end of radiation and the start of chemo? Dr. P and Janet decided that a one week break between the 10 doses of radiation and round two of chemo felt like the right amount of time based on the last go around (where they only allowed her body a break of 5 days).

Why radiation for the brain spots vs. chemo? Often times chemo does not go to the brain (especially the lining). This got a bit technical and scary… The lining can block out a lot of crap – kind of seems like its key job… The chemo will not have the necessary immediate impact on the brain spots that are needed right now. Radiation is a more locally focused treatment that will target and certainly impact those spots.

As this all progresses will we have the benefit of knowing when we’re near the end? Yes, we will.

We’re not at that point? NO, we are NOT at that point!

“And, those who do best have a fighting spirit, which Janet has,” Dr. Pietanza. And so, the much anticipated meeting came to a close with a solid plan of attack in place. Dr. Pietanza gave Janet a huge hug and Janet told her, “I feel so solid with you. I feel like I’m in the best possible hands…”

The radiation team will do their brain mapping today so the first radiation treatment can be given and forward progress can resume. And, Janet will return home this evening (pending that mapping). She’s breathing easier, she’s more hopeful, and she’s ready for the radiation treatment. 
- - - - - 
Okay hi it's Sarah again.

So the update since then.  I just got off the phone with Clancy, who's been with Mom at the hospital all day.  She walked one-half loop today around the 14th floor hallway, and part of that unassisted, thankyouverymuch.  Clancy said her coughing was much less frequent today, except for occasions when she was "laughing too hard."  Heh go Janet!  Dr. Houseman, who is her new radiation oncologist, met with her to discuss the brain mapping, radiation plan, etc.  Because there are three spots in her brain, they are doing a "general" radiation.  As Ben mentioned, this is a good thing because it will knock out any little new ones that could be growing.  General is a misleading word though, because, as Clancy described it, they are very calculated and careful when it comes to radiation to the brain, so much so that a physicist is employed to determine the exact method, area, etc.  

Once the mapping is complete, Mom will go home at last.  She has some new meds to help her along, and Clancy created a new chart so we can keep track.  Mom said today: "It's a new world but we have excellent teachers."  I'd say that definitely sums up our experience with the medical team at Sloan - they're amazing, just amazing.

If you're planning on visiting Mom at home in the coming days, please call before you come, just to be sure that she's okay for visitors. We are doing our best to help her avoid exhaustion, but the love and support is greatly appreciated and serves as serious meat and drink for the Mama. Thanks all.

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

nice round head


Who knew she had such a lovely head?  Tonight, our good friend Susannah brought clippers to the hospital and we had a lovely time shorning Mom's head, much to her delight.  As you can see, she looks amaaaaaaazing.  Are any of us surprised?

The ceremonial head-buzzing happened just after she returned to her room post-bronchoscopy. She was in good spirits and ready for her dinner! Although the x-ray and CT scan had shown no stent issues and no new obstruction around her lung, Dr. Park (the same guy who inserted the stent) decided to do a bronchoscopy all the same after Mom complained of loud breathing, shortness of breath.  He ended up removing some build-up: mucuous and other lovely fluids in the area, but found that the stent was NOT obstructed and hadn't migrated whatsoever.  Her breathing has been very good today - much more quiet and peaceful.  

They wanted to do a "brain map" in preparation for possible radiation on her brain in the coming days, but because of the bronchoscopy, that has been bumped to tomorrow.  We're pretty certain she will go home tomorrow.  They're putting her on a new anti-nausea pill that dissolves in her mouth (smart!), and they've decided to amp up her steroids again: 6mg in the morning and 6mg at night.  The steroids will reduce the swelling in her brain, which is a result (as I understand it) of the new little spots found there.  

Clancy, Ben and I will all meet Dr. Pietanza with Mom tomorrow morning. Hopefully questions will be answered and we can move forward with a new plan.

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

more info

So Mom is out of Urgent Care and has settled into her room on the 14th floor. I saw Margaret, one of Mom's nurses from last week, and she was sad to see me, knowing it meant Mom was back in the hospital. Two doctors who are affiliates of Dr. Pietanza met with Mom, examined her, and told her they would take a look at the MRI results from earlier today. They came back a bit later and said that the MRI revealed several spots on her brain which they suspect indicate that the cancer (bastard) has metastasized once again. Someone from radiation will meet with Mom tomorrow - these docs said that radiation can be very successful on the brain so we'll see. When we saw Dr. Pietanza in the hall earlier (before Mom was in her room and before the other docs met with her), she said that the chemo question is a bit of a moot point right now since Mom is so weak, nauseous and unable to really walk very far. This is no time to assault her system with some cell-killing badass evil toxicity. Okay Pietanza didn't say that last part - that's just me. Clancy, Ben and I will meet with Dr. Pietanza on Thursday morning to ask her our current list of 8,000 questions about what's happening and what we should do. Hopefully we will have some solid answers later this week.

worse

They went to the hospital this morning, where she's getting fluids and just had an x-ray of her chest and abdomen. Dr. P. thinks the disease is spreading; they're going to do another MRI this afternoon.

quick update

So Mom's on her way back to the hospital - urgent care.  She had a rough night.  Clancy was with her all night and she had trouble keeping anything down, including meds, last night and this morning.  I talked to Pietanza this morning, who said that Mom should head back to urgent care so that they can give her meds and nourishment intravenously.  She will have another MRI later today.  Clancy's taking Mom to the hospital.  Sarah and the kids will meet Mom and Clancy there. More soon.

Monday, March 31, 2008

music as medicine

So yesterday was a great day.  Alan Ferber, Tim Albright and Dave Smith (big fans of Mom's and great musicians, all of  'em) came to Mom's apartment to play some music for her.  She loved it.  Clancy, Sarah, Casper and Ida were there, along with Mom's friend Alison Tassie, me, and her neighbor, Jennifer Cooper.  That's a lot of bodies in 250 square feet, but we made it work.  It was really great to hear the music.  I sang a few tunes with the guys too, which was fun.  

She's had a few exhausting days - there have been lots of grandkids around (which she swears is medicine to her, and I believe it), and just a lot of commotion, so she's pretty wiped out today, but in good spirits.  She's 100% focused on this appointment with Pietanza Wednesday, and the only prep for that is REST.  Clancy and Sarah are here to help out, which is good, and our Dad will be here tomorrow for a few days as well. She's still a big fan of the Whole Foods gatorade, went through multiple bottles yesterday, so that's good.  I can definitely see the sparkle in her eyes.  She was a little pale while everyone was there, but once she had some breathing room later on, her color started to come back.  I think as a general rule, we have to go easy on the visitors - not too many all at once, and not anyone for very long.  She is a social butterfly so will NEVER say "hey I really need to rest - can you get the hell out please?" so everyone who visits (or calls for that matter), please just keep her limited energy and social butterfly ways in mind, and plan to monitor yourself and the amount of time you're there.  That said, it's really really wonderful to see how many people love and adore her and want to come by and give her a squeeze, call and check in on her.  Keep it comin, but just please try to be cognizant of her need for rest too.  Thanks!

Sunday, March 30, 2008

electrolytes r us

So since Mom got home from the hospital (about 4-5 days ago) we've been really concerned about how to best keep her hydrated so she doesn't have to go back there.  She doesn't really want to drink much these days because she's still throwing up and therefore a little tentative about what she puts in her system.  But finally yesterday we found something that she digs and will drink (yay!), and that will probably help her more than anything else.  I got some Whole Foods-version Gatorade yesterday and she loved it, almost went through two whole bottles.  So that's a happy thing.  Jenn and I have started to comprehend the subtle differences in her appearance when she's hydrated, so that's a good thing.  Hopefully it's something we can monitor a little better this time around.

Clancy, Jennifer, Mom and I all had a wee pow-wow at her apartment yesterday morning while Dan and Sarah DillonYork took the kids to the playground.  I don't know that we came to a decision of any sort, but we came up with more questions.  To me this feels like a decision that nobody outside of the medical world should be faced with, but I guess it's just the situation and there's nothing to be done.  It will of course ultimately be Mom's decision, so we'll see. We're pretty certain that Dr. P will push for at least one more round of chemo.

I feel like it's been an eternity since I've strongly thought about things like "what am I doing with my life" and "why aren't I in this place or that place".  All of that stuff is in some sort of pale out of focus shade right now, but it still somehow hovers in the background.  Everyone tells me it's important to live my life and still focus on fun things, good things, other things than cancer, but it's really hard.  The "my actual life" part is the hardest thing - funny eh?  I thought the day-to-day thing with Mom would be the hardest, but taking care of Mom and being there for her actually feels like something I was born to do.

Some good news today: my friends (and Mom's) Alan Ferber (trombone), Tim Albright (trombone) and Dave Smith (trumpet) are all coming over to Mom's to play some music for her this evening.  There may even be a bass player!  She's so excited.  It's going to do all of us a world of good I think - but especially Mom.

Friday, March 28, 2008

a little clarification

I was a little vague yesterday about what "stable" means--it just means that the sum of the growth and shrinking of the various tumors and lesions is about zero. It's good, but it's not remission or anything.

Clancy and family made it from the Ohio-Indiana border to New Jersey with a completely hosed clutch, and then had to stop. There is some brave combination of trains and tow trucks happening around now, and we're all meeting in the morning if everything goes reasonably well. Dan and I and the girls fly back to San Francisco tomorrow night.

She's been feeling sort of awful since the day she came home from the hospital: throwing up at least once a day, and today she had a new pain, in her ribs. It's really tough to keep her hydrated, and I suspect that we're already falling behind on that. The question of the moment is whether to go through another round of chemotherapy, or to stop. On the one hand, stopping treatment feels like admitting defeat, facing death, saying goodbye. But, as mom says, "I want to live until I die." Her doctor really wants her to try at least one more round. The three kids will put heads together tomorrow morning and try to figure out what we all think--the final decision will of course be made by herself, and will likely happen next week, when she goes to see Dr. P again on Wednesday.

Thursday, March 27, 2008

stable disease

Test results are back, and the official word from Dr. P. is that the disease is stable and there are no tumor markers in the spinal fluid. That's good news, but it means that we're more confused about what to do next: the doctor wants to do at least one more round of chemotherapy after a little more of a break, after which she thinks we'll have a better idea about how Mom tolerates the therapy (the first one was quite soon after the end of radiation) and also about how well the disease responds. She has an appointment on Wednesday the 2nd, after which we hope to have a decision made about all this.

Today was a little tougher, in part we're sure because of how much she exerted herself (she was out of bed for like six hours! She ate a steak!). Hazel kisses are proving to be good medicine. Clancy and family arrive tomorrow sometime--they're on the road now, in their vegetable oil-converted Mercedes! Thanks so much to everyone for the good wishes.

Oh, and: Oona and I are going home with Dan and Hazel on Saturday, after all. I'll probably be back soon.

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

home again

This is just a quick one to say that she is in her freshly cleaned apartment, eating tzatziki and reading books to the grandkids. She has a new cane that is helping to stay steady on the numb right foot, and got herself here purely on her own power (plus that of the taxi). I keep asking her if she needs a nap and she keeps saying no. We still have no answers and are pretty confused about what will come next, but this is a good moment.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

housing and work

So Clancy's coming to town in the next week sometime - he and his family are driving from Wisconsin, so however long it takes them to drive here.  If there's anyone in the New York area who has room for him and his family or who's leaving town or something and would be able to offer up a home, please let us know.  Clancy will be coming with his wife Sarah and their two kids, Casper and Ida, who are 6 and 4.  

Also, for those who don't know, Clancy is a mindblowingly talented carpenter, having built shelves and made stools into chairs, and done all kinds of amazing organizational work at Mom's apartment during his last visit.  Since we don't know how long these guys will need to stay in town, Clancy's mentioned that he'd like to find some carpentry work.  He has a few connections for jobs, but if any of you are in need of a carpenter, or know someone who might be, please let us know that as well.

Mom's in amazing spirits, really and truly.  She causes my chin to drop to the floor every time I see her.  She hasn't given up by any stretch.  In fact, the phrase she keeps using is "I'm so lucky."  It's just so Janet Ward to say something like that.  Thanks guys for all the big love.

Monday, March 24, 2008

the time question


Janet and Sarah
Originally uploaded by jecaly

Things have just kicked into high existential gear around here. I saw Dr. P. and her nurse Maureen in the hallway of the hospital today and we had one of those conversations you click past on daytime TV, with me asking about whether we can know yet how well her body's responding to chemo and how long does she have, and the doctor telling me that she has it really bad, that the tumor from her right lobe is growing so fast that it's in her neck now, and that the weekend doctor (one of the top guys in his field, recommended to us by lots of people when they heard she would be seen at MSKCC) wants to stop chemotherapy. Dr. P. is very thorough and careful, though, and so she wants to do two more tests before we decide whether to continue treatment. Mom had the second lumbar puncture aided by x-ray today (they did a great job; she had no pain. Both Sarah and I were there, standing guard by the door), and I think she had a CT scan about an hour ago, with Sarah there.

I think we'll have the results pretty soon. If there are cancer cells in her spinal fluid, and/or evidence that the chemotherapy isn't doing much, they'll stop treatment. If there is evidence that it's helping, we may continue. Either way, Dr. P's assessment is "weeks, months."

Just so all you who love her know: she doesn't want to be kept alive by artificial means. She doesn't want to be resuscitated. If there is some chance that she'll have some semblance of her life back, she wants that and will suffer through unpleasantness for it, but if there isn't, she will stop treatment.

Yes, we're all freaking out. Clancy's leaving Wisconsin on Thursday; my dad's making plans to come out, Lindsay arrives late this week, and I don't know what we're doing but at least Oona and I will probably stay.

Friday, March 21, 2008

spinal tap

Sadly, that's not a metaphor for something. They want to test her spinal fluid for cancer cells because of the strange symptoms she's having (wobbliness, numb bottom of foot, falling down). So a very nice and thorough man came in today to try to extract some. It hurt a lot. He explained everything he was doing, and he's done lots of them before and couldn't understand why, but he went through two full kits and couldn't get it. So they'll try again with the aid of an x-ray to pinpoint the spot better. She might still have another MRI in addition to that; apparently the neurologists don't agree about that yet. Deep thanks to Jeremiah and Sheila for watching Oona today; Sarah is with her now.

Oh, and they say she'll be there until at least Monday, now.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

hooray for salt water



Well, after a full day and then some in the hospital, we're no closer to knowing whether there's a tumor wrapped around the main artery to her brain, but she who was starting to seem very husk-like and frail looks, after untold bags of saline plus some magnesium and potassium, like a plant that has been watered. there was no vomiting today, no as-needed pain medication for the neck, and she ate three full meals. That's THREE. FULL. MEALS. For the last few days, five string beans and three tomatoes have felt like a major victory, so this is very good news. Thanks to all who have offered to watch Oona, and thanks especially to Leda and Liz, who took care of her for so long today!

Sarah's last day of work was today, so we'll be at the hospital in shifts, trying to catch the elusive neurologist and to be there when she gets discharged. Stay tuned, sweet people, and we'll keep you posted.

morning news

They admitted her last night. They think that the tumor on her cervical spine is cutting off the blood flow to her brain (she has some numbness on the bottom of her right foot), and a team of doctors is meeting this morning to discuss what should be done. I'm going there when Oona wakes up, but I'm not sure they'll let me in with a baby; is anyone in New York around today and interested in playing with a baby for a little while? Call me: 415 310 4575.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

i hate today

It's raining. It was hard to get to mom's place this morning because apparently in New York, when it rains all cabs go off duty and your brain goes all fuzzball about which way is downtown. But we got there, armed with our trusty half gallon of lemonade, about the only thing she wants to drink these days. Called the doctor, only to learn that we were supposed to be there for blood work. Sarah has her Sloan-Kettering card, though, so she messengers it. It's raining. The messenger takes a long time. After waiting awhile in the lobby of her building, we go upstairs to rest a minute. Finally, it comes. We go. She gets blood drawn. I spill coffee all over the lab. We start to head for home. Oona's hat falls off. Mom leans down to get it. I'm thinking, "don't do that! I'll do that!" but don't act fast enough and she FALLS DOWN on the rainy sidewalk. There's no one to call, come get us, she fell down! We have to get a cab in rainy Manhattan. This took awhile but we eventually succeeded, thanks in part to having a baby out there in the rain.

We were home for only a little while when Maureen, her doctor's nurse, called to tell us that the blood work came back showing that Mom is severely dehydrated and has low sodium levels (translation: not enough eating and drinking, too much throwing up) and she might want us to go in for fluids. Mom takes this as a challenge, drinking three glasses of water and eating more than she has in the past two days. Maureen calls back: we have to go in. The doctor agrees that those levels combined with the fall are just too much. Mom is devastated, a little, but agrees and we get ready to go.

So, to make a long story shorter: she's there now, having had one bag of fluids and getting one and a half more. She might stay the night. They did another CT scan of her head though, concerned about the wobbliness and falling, and it came back fine again.

Monday, March 17, 2008

chemotherapy makes you sick

She still feels pretty bad today, but a couple of things are making it a little easier to handle. One is that she has had a lot more energy today, telling stories and talking on the phone and not passing out in between--she's more composed, or something. The other is that we have news from the doctor that there is a 2-day "high" after each chemotherapy treatment followed by seven to ten days of, well, this: fatigue, body aches, mouth soreness, nausea, and generally feeling horrible. That describes her experience so far, and we're hoping that it means she'll feel better next week (and then worse, and then better, and then worse, and then better). In the meantime, it's a good day (like today!) when she stands up for a moment to brush her teeth.

Sunday, March 16, 2008

today

Oona and I arrived in New York yesterday morning and are settled into this amazing apartment, thanks to Amanda and Sarah and Douglas. Mom's first days after chemotherapy have been mostly good--her pain is better, and the nausea hasn't been bad, thanks in part to the medication they gave her for it.

But she had a rough night last night, and felt so poorly this morning that she wasn't able to get up to eat and take her meds, and clueless me didn't realize that if she doesn't answer the phone it means go there now, so she didn't get her pain medication or steroid pill or the other three she's supposed to take with breakfast until 2 hours later than normal. Bad nurse. She also has a little fever today--100.5, so borderline for alerting her doctor, but I called anyway--we'll probably take her in if it goes much higher, but I really don't want to drag her to Urgent Care to get another x-ray, blood work and other tests unless it's really warranted--she's just not up for a cab ride right now, and needs sleep more than anything, I think. She and Oona are napping together now; for a bit I couldn't tell whose breathing I was hearing.

Thursday, March 13, 2008

first dose of chemo

So yesterday was pretty amazing, I have to say. Mom was a certifiable rockstar - holding true to the pattern thus far.

We arrived at Sloan around 8am for Mom's 8:15 appointment with Dr. Pietanza. Our friend Susannah (daughter of Gina Karlsson who used to babysit Clancy and Jennifer and certifiable rockstar in her own right) joined us and was there all day with us - made a huge difference. They took Mom's vitals. She has dropped more weight, which we all kind of knew, and her blood pressure is a bit low, but otherwise she is doing well. Dr. Pietanza filled us in again on what to expect with the chemo (hair loss, some nausea, possible pain in the bones and joints, fatigue). It turns out that Mom will have treatment once every THREE weeks, not once every two weeks. She also listened to Mom's lungs and said that they sound much better now than the last time she saw her - mid-February. Mom will have another appt with Dr. Pietanza in two weeks.

We went back to the waiting room for a bit after the exam, and then we were brought back to the "chemotherapy suite" - a suite indeed! We had our own little room - given the option, Mom wisely chose a bed over a chair - with a lovely sliding door and little wood cutout window frames, plants in the window. It was just a really nice room, serene, pleasant, and as Susannah put it "like a Japanese hotel room".

We met Sarah, Mom's fabulous nurse, who is my exact age, super sweet and really bright. Sloan makes an effort to hook each patient up with the same nurse for each treatment, so that's kinda cool. I like the consistency. She did a "teaching session" with us, talked more about the side effects, discussed the different anti-nausea medications, and also went over the plan to decrease the steroids. It looks like Mom will be off steroids completely by early April.

So then Sarah started an IV after finding an appropriate vein (good times!), and then administered a saline solution to Mom along with some "pre-meds"to help prep her veins and system for the chemo. Susannah and I jumped out at that point to grab some lunch, and Sarah waited for our return before she began the chemo. So at about 2pm they started giving Mom the first part of the chemo cocktail, which was Taxol. At the start of each chemo treatment, there will always be two nurses in the room: one to check Mom's info & the drug info on a chart and the other to verify that the same exact info is on the drug itself, before administering it. Pretty cool.

So the Taxol took about 3 hours, during which time Mom ate lunch (Sloan provides lunch when there's a long treatment...she had a cobb salad and ate every last bite. I took a picture of the empty container and will try to post it later!). She also slept for about 1.5 hours of it, which was totally amazing and wonderful. Sarah stayed with us for the first 15 minutes of the Taxol part, because she said if Mom were going to have a bad reaction it would happen then. She slept and ate so needless to say, she was fine. After the Taxol they gave her a bit more saline, followed by the Carboplatin, which took about 30 minutes. We all applauded when she finished the Carboplatin - first treatment DONE!

I wrote out a new chart for Mom so she knows which drugs to take when, and so far so good. She had a little urpiness but was mainly just tired after we left. She had dinner, went to sleep, and successfully took her meds this morning.

All is well.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

good days and bad

Yesterday was a bad day, and even though I know it's not the case, it made me feel all alone and I kind of fell apart. Mom was nauseous all day and couldn't get out of bed yesterday, couldn't walk across the room to take her meds, so I ended up leaving work early to help her with that (after sitting at work worrying like a cat in a room full of rocking chairs).  We heard from the doctor in the afternoon and found out the nausea was due to the reduction in her steroid intake - happened too fast for her system, apparently.  

But I'm frustrated because, up to now, I thought that she was able to tell me when she really needs me - she has done it a few times so far.  But yesterday she couldn't do that and it made me panic - like oh okay, I need to read between the lines to figure out when "I'm okay Sarah" actually means "I need you - please come over".  I told her - as my friend Jutta said - that it's fine to tell other people that she's okay when she's not, but she HAS to tell her family, and especially me since I'm here and can be there.

I'm a little bit lost today - lost, scared, and feeling very alone.  I had a good talk with Mom's friend Jennifer last night and she reminded me that I'm going to have good days and bad days just like Mom will.  I guess I didn't really think about that, but she's totally right.

Thanks everyone for all of the calls, cards and support.  It's great to see how much love is out there.

I will go over to her apt tonight after my internship to spend the night, take her to chemo in the morning.  I'll find out all of the details of chemo tomorrow and try to report back then, but as a reminder to those who want to visit (and I'm sorry if this sounds at all harsh):  please make sure you're in good health before you visit her. From my understanding, chemo kills the good and bad cells all at once, so her system will be more susceptible to infection, sickness, etc. than usual.  Don't mind me - protective as usual.

Jennifer comes to town with Oona on Saturday morning and I feel like I'm crawling through the desert, trying to make it to that day.  She'll be here for two weeks and I can't wait.

Sunday, March 9, 2008

radiation finished and clancy visit


Mom had her last radiation appointment on Friday morning.  So we are done with radiation for the foreseeable future.  Clancy's leaving on Monday morning after a week of help, music, and lots of construction!  Thank you Clancy!!  He rearranged Mom's apartment, and with the help of Mom's friend Skyler:  built a shelf and extension for her desk (including a spot for her typewriter), put up a high shelf, and added to the nook-feel of the kitchen area by adding a few shelves there.  The place has been transformed into what Mom calls her "hobbit house."  

Clancy and I had some good sibling time on Saturday and even were able to get some music-nerd time in!  He also put up a shelf in my house - yay!

Mom's pain has been a little better every day, although her energy is still low.  Chemo starts Wednesday and I will go with her to that first appointment.  Jennifer will arrive with Miss Oona Saturday morning, and will be joined by Dan and Miss Hazel a week after that. Yay for all of that.

One

day

at

a

time

Friday, March 7, 2008

herself



Here's a photo of Janet from just before her bronchoscopy last Wednesday, managing to make the hospital gown look borderline stylish.

poem about mom

Mom's friend Laura Bailey just sent this poem she wrote about Mom. I just read it aloud to Mom and asked her if I could post it. She responded, "Absolutely!"

JANET IS SO NEW YORK

Janet is so New York she keeps her compassion in her shoe just in case someone tries to rob her of it.

Janet’s hair is as shiny and black as the molding around rehearsal space doors.

Janet’s hello comes at your head like a huge sandwich in a lunch hour deli.

Janet’s soul is a charming efficiency with a galley kitchen and a Murphy bed, it is rent controlled and you cannot have it at any price.

Janet has shoes that are taxi cab yellow and stop suddenly for no reason.

Janet is so New York that her pin number is -- a-five- six- seven- eight.

At night, Janet snoozes on her window sill, wearing neon pajamas while a sax player lies in her bathtub playing her dreams out.

Janet knows why homeless people- who have nothing - have dogs.

Janet is so New York, her thoughts travel on foot and carry water bottles.

There are many living stories in Janet’s naked head.

Thursday, March 6, 2008

appt with Dr. Ho

So yesterday Clancy and I went with Mom to her checkup with Dr. Ho, her radiation oncologist, after the 8th radiation treatment. Dr. Ho wants to slowly decrease the number of steroid pills Mom takes every day, although she will need to take 5 steroid pills the night before and 5 the morning of her first chemo treatment, Wed March 12th.

Dr. Ho is so sweet and direct and caring. I really dig her. And Mom does too. So the last radiation treatment is happening tomorrow morning, but Dr. Ho said the effects of radiation will be felt for awhile after that, so that's good. Hopefully Mom's neck pain will soon be a distant memory for all of us!

Since radiation treatment ends tomorrow, going forward Mom will be primarily in the care of Dr. Piatanza.

It's so great to have Clancy in town. He's really helping Mom and I both slow down a bit and take a breath. He's just such a rock too - I have to say, it's nice to lean. And he has rearranged Mom's apartment so she now has a bona fide kitchen "nook" and easy access to her computer and desk. Yay! We also got a clamp light for her at the hardware store yesterday so now it's not such a dark cave in there (although Mom's a total cavedweller!).

She's not 100% on email just yet, but hopefully she will be able to at least read emails soon. Meanwhile, keep those calls coming, people!

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

a little venting

So yesterday was a good day for Mom. Her pain was much improved and she even managed to go food shopping for her own self after her radiation appointment! She also did a load of laundry which, to me seemed like pushing it, but I guess she just wanted everything to be in order for Clancy's arrival. Sorta sweet. It's really great to have him here. He arrived last night. I went up to see them at Mom's after my internship. Mom's good friend and neighbor Jennifer Cooper was there too (thanks Jennifer for your fabulous energy!), and it was great to just talk about other things, hang out, be together and laugh. There's something about plain ol' laughter that's such strong medicine these days.

I got really worried about Mom though as I sat there watching her last night. I could tell as soon as I walked in the door that she'd overexerted herself yesterday. She just looked really wiped out and in a bit of pain. The wheeze started to come back a bit the longer I stayed and she started to cough more too. She said this happens every night - the cough returns a bit - but I dunno, I just left with a weird pit in my stomach, feeling helpless as usual.


I know that the radiation is helping her neck and that she's in much better shape now than even a week ago, but the whole "one step forward, two steps back" element of this situation really gives me the howling fantods sometimes.
I'm just sayin.

Sunday, March 2, 2008

my tidbits

I was en route to a haircut when we had this conference call so my notes are limited as well. But I saw Mom yesterday, looked through some of her notes/pamphlets, and found out that the drug they're nixing from the cocktail is Avastin. Apparently that drug could potentially affect her hearing; hearing on the right side has been a bit wonky already due to the neck pains so...that's a no go. They are taking good care of her.

Her pain was actually much better yesterday - actual periods of sitting up without pain. My friend Leslie is in town (used to live in New York, LOVES Mom) and we hung out with Mom all afternoon, gave her a pedicure and changed her sheets. That was all in the midst of many many phone calls, each of which Mom thoroughly dug. She's really loving all of the human contact these days, so don't be afraid to call her.

Her spirits are in really good shape too, I have to say. She's very zen about this whole thing - really wanting to fight it but also accepting that this is the situation now...as a social worker I met with last week put it, "the new normal." Clancy tomorrow - yay!

Saturday, March 1, 2008

squamous

The pathology results are in: the cells are officially squamous cell carcinoma, not adenocarcinoma. Is that good or bad? I can't really tell from my layperson interwebs research. I know one type is supposed to be more treatable than the other. As a result of this information, one of the drugs was removed from her future chemotherapy cocktail, and the schedule was changed a bit--to, I believe, treatment more often than they had been planning. Sorry, I was in the car and took bad notes. Next week is the last week of radiation, and then chemotherapy starts on Wednesday, the 12th.

Thursday, February 28, 2008

Doctor sketches


Here are the before and after sketches that Dr. Park made of mom's lung and trachea after the surgery, to show Sarah. To just quickly summarize (hopefully correctly from my phone conversation with Sarah), they are "giving up" on the top right lobe, but they hope that the removal of the part of the tumor that was blocking airflow into the lower right lobe, plus the stent, will improve her breathing by a lot. Sarah reports that mom's "rattle" is gone today, so that's great news.

Thanks to all for your offers of help and loving wishes. I'm happy to report that we found a place to stay in Manhattan (thanks, Amanda!) for a couple of weeks, so we'll be heading out again the second week of March. Yay.

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

She came out of recovery succesfully

I realized that I didn't give the update on Mom coming out of recovery and actually getting out of the hospital today.  So they kept her a pretty long time - they weren't pleased with her oxygen levels in the early part of recovery so we had to wait until the stent worked its magic and her oxygen levels rose.  But we left around 7:30 and frankly I was glad they were so totally thorough, making sure she was really okay before we left.  We were both wiped out but I think all told it was a successful day. They were able to give her pain meds intravenously today so the neck pain was kept at bay a bit.  Her dear friend Katrin was here for almost a week, really taking care of her and a lot of details and we are so grateful for that.  It's great to have such good friends around, lovin on her (us).  She was more wiped out than in pain when I left her tonight, and there wasn't any blood or mucous coming up, so that's good stuff. One day at a time, yeah?

Out of surgery - tumor hacked away at - stent in place

So I'm at Sloan right now and Mom's still in recovery. I will see her in about 20-30 minutes and we will be home in 2-3 hours. After recovery they want to do an x-ray to make sure that everything's where it should be before they send her home.

I spoke to Dr. Park, the doctor who performed the bronchoscopy, and he said that Mom did very well in surgery and that they were able to remove part of the tumor blocking the upper lobe of her right lung (don't I sound so medically knowledgeable?). He also found some specks on her trachea that he said would probably have developed into cancer so he lasered those suckers and they are OUTTA THERE.

He decided to insert a stent just outside the upper right lobe in order to prevent the cancer from expanding into the lower right lung or elsewhere (something which would result once again in labored breathing). I asked him about the possibility of stent migration and he said the chances are very slim because the airways just below where the stent resides are smaller than the stent itself, and stents tend to migrate downstream, so we should be good.

He said she may cough up some mucous and blood today, but said that's totally normal. She should be fine for radiation tomorrow morning.

The neck pain has been pretty excruciating today and I'm a little worried because she hasn't eaten since midnight (surgeon's orders) and hasn't taken pain medication since about 11am, so basically she will come out of recovery hungry and in pain - not fun! But hopefully we can take care of both issues right away. The radiation hasn't exactly kicked in yet, but the nurses I've talked to say that it usually takes a few treatments, so I'm hopeful that she will be in way way less pain by the weekend.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

roto rooter

Tomorrow will be the procedure on her trachea. There is a tumor there that is growing rapidly and making it very difficult for air to get into the left (I think) lobe of her lung, so they're going to cut part of it out tomorrow. The formal term for the procedure is "rigid bronchoscopy". Originally, they were planning to put a stint in, but apparently there is a danger of those migrating, and since it expands after insertion, a migrating, expanding stint in the throat seems, well, less than ideal. So, partial tumor removal only, and hopefully after that we'll see a big improvement in her ability to...breathe!

Second radiation went well today, but the pain is a lot worse.

Monday, February 25, 2008

First round of radiation done!

So Mom had her first radiation appointment this morning at 10am. She gets to bring in a CD of her choosing during each of these appointments, so that's kinda cool. She'll be there every Monday thru Friday this week and next, around that time, for a total of 10 radiation treatments. After that, we'll begin chemo. Also, this Wednesday she will have the stint inserted in her throat (or around there...), and later this afternoon she's meeting the surgeon, Dr. Park, who will perform that procedure. This Friday is a follow-up visit with Dr. Piatanza. Clancy comes Monday!

Friday, February 22, 2008

Radiation delayed until Monday

Okay so I'm working through my anger/frustration right now but, argh, because of some administrative glitch (they couldn't get in touch with the doctor to approve the films) they weren't able to do radiation today and have postponed until Monday at 10am.  Mom has reacted in a much more zen, calm manner than me, so I guess that's good.  More soon. 

Tattoos, needles, scalpels and radiation

Hi.

Mom's getting her first dose of radiation today, in about 20 minutes (at 3pm EST). At her planning appointment yesterday she got some small dots tattooed on her neck and shoulders, so that they can direct the radiation to the exact right spot and minimize damage to other tissue. For those who were horrified by this image, you'll be glad to hear that she doesn't have to wear a face mask--just a little chin strap.

Today's other big news is that they have decided to put a stint into her lung next Wednesday, to make her breathing easier. This is great news, as we were thinking that they would treat that with more radiation or just wait for the chemo to do its thing. Hooray for mechanical solutions. So the two things that are bothering her the most--her neck pain and her labored breathing--are being treated first.

She also has a new blood thinning medication (to treat the blood clot in her leg), that she must inject daily. Whee.

We are making plans to get out to New York again sometime soon. Anyone want to do a New York-San Francisco apartment trade?

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Bone scan done - prep today - radiation tomorrow

So yesterday Mom had a bone scan at Sloan, which was yet another test to more carefully specify where they need to target radiation in her neck (these people are seriously THOROUGH!).  She also had a CT scan last Saturday to do this.  Hopefully all tests are done now - at least for the immediate future.  

They injected her with some radioactive isotrope thing yesterday at 1 and then at 5 they did the actual bone scan.  Today she will go back to Sloan for a preparatory appointment for the radiation that starts tomorrow.  They'll run a simulation with her, so she really knows what to expect.  You can check out the simulation program here.  The radiation appointments (as Jenn said, 10 in a row on business days) will occur at the same time every day, with the same technician.  So that's cool.  Even adults need consistency.

Katrin comes to town tomorrow to stay with Mom for I think 6 or 7 days, and then Clancy will be here March 3rd, so yayyyy!  I have a concert at my church job Sunday afternoon that Mom's gonna try to make, but regardless, we will still have our annual Oscar Night celebration. 

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

quick update

Janet's last day of work was today, so now she can focus her attention on her new full-time job.

This week, that will be: a bone scan on Wednesday, a planning session with the radiology oncologist (there's probably another "ogical" in there somewhere, forgive me) on Thursday, and her first radiation session on Friday. She'll continue to have radiation for 10 (business) days in a row, and then will commence chemotherapy, once every three weeks.

More soon!

Friday, February 15, 2008

Sloan Kettering = Rolls Royce of cancer care

We are, for the first time in a long time, hopeful and excited.

Even walking in the building this morning, it was apparent that this place ROCKED. Everyone we encountered at Sloan Kettering was caring and sweet, looked us in the eye and didn't for a second assume they knew anything about Mom's situation before really hearing about it.

So after checking her in and taking her vitals, they brought us back to the examining room (which had its own private bathroom and a nice round table with four chairs). Several minutes later we met Mom's doctor, Maria Pietanza. WE LOVE HER. She asked Mom about 300 questions, including asking for the whole history of her pain, where it hurts, when it hurts, etc. etc. She examined Mom, said she wanted to take a look at the films again, and then would come back so we could discuss treatment.

When she came back she said, "So the first thing we need to do is get rid of your neck pain."

YAY!

She told us that radiation is the best way to do that, so we made the first available appointment with Dr. Alice Ho, the radiation oncologist (that appt turned out to be Monday morning at 10am). Mom is also getting a CT scan tomorrow which will allow them to target the exact spot in the neck needing radiation - woo!

Pietanza told us that chemotherapy controls the disease, stops new metastases, shrinks tumors and prolongs survival. We like all of these things. Systemic treatment is needed and she wants to start with a combination of carbo-platinum, taxol, and avastin. She will also have supportive medication to bypass some of the side effects (and we will be seeking out fabulous scarves).

The radiation will go on for ten days at a time (once a day), after which we will begin chemo. So chemo should start in about two weeks. When it starts, the chemo will occur once every three weeks and normally goes for six cycles. After two cycles of chemo they will do a test to see if the "cocktail" is the right one for Mom.

This doc chucked her former pain meds, and now she's on:
  • oxycodone for pain
  • steroids to take down the swelling in the neck/kill the wheezing
  • antibiotics to counteract the chemo's pending effects on the immune system (good cells and bad cells all go out together)
  • anti-nausea pills
  • cough-suppressant (major)
  • and ya know...laxatives

After the doctor left, a nurse came in and talked to us, explained in detail which meds to take when, and said sternly "Nobody should be sitting at home in pain, so if you're in pain, tell us."

YEAH!

Today her head actually bopped to the music as we sat eating in PJ Clarke's, and tonight she has been sitting up, having impassioned conversations. SUPER CHATTY! The neck pain is markedly better and the wheezing has almost gone away altogether.