Tuesday, January 05, 2010


Yesterday was oncology

The CT scans show that the tumours in her liver are growing, she is now 48.5 kilos, she's lost about 12 kilos in the last 3 months, 5 of that in the last 3 weeks, she has constant pain in her lower back and her right leg, she is on 80 mgs of oxycontin everyday and this dose gets adjusted every week pretty much.....she isn't having good days right now, sometimes she has a good couple of hours

My mother is refusing anymore treatment

She has had enough of feeling like shit and has pretty much decided to die now

I find this really really fucking sad

and yet I also feel a strange sense of relief

Does that make me a bad daughter?

I really don't think so.

I am a mass of contradictory feelings......so many highs and lows and not too many in betweens. That feels okay too. For where I am at right now.

I find it hard to articulate some days

I find it hard to say what I mean without it sounding like something else sometimes

I find it hard to know what it is that I am really feeling sometimes too

I don't envy anyone who has the dubious honour of trying to understand me right now

Except that it is all very intense and very real and that is what makes the world go round I guess

I had a talk with my brother yesterday.

We will be okay.

I am........something



Back to work today

I think I might leave.....


wykdwytch said...

so hard for everyone...no one can understand what you are going through.w.w.

Cyndy said...

I am honoured (or not, depending upon your view) in that I have some understanding of where you're at, Michelle. And I am always around (in one way or another) if you need to talk.

The relief & sadness I understand. It's a grudging, conditional acceptance, but it would be better if it didn't have to happen. But it does.

Get the experts to give your mum as much pain-free time ass possible. And where this is managed is up to her. She can stay at home or go to the hospital or hospice if that is what she wants.

If you want to be with your mum, and if your mum wants you, then it's time to leave work. You can never get this time back. Work will always be there.
I am so greatful to have had the virtually unencumbered days with my mum: I wish that we had been at home and that there were more of them. But there were no choices available to us.

You guys can choose, and you can change your plan at any time.

You will be okay. You might want to talk, walk, cry, scream and even run at times. But yes, you will be okay.

Love to you, Arty Farty.


Myst_72 said...

I understand.

No one wants to see a loved one suffering and in pain, especially not their mother.

Love to you all,


christopher said...

Some people can understand, Michelle. When you live with terminal disease of any kind in someone you love, going back and forth to hospital, it winds up the same. My wife might have made it if alcohol hadn't taken over, but then it was impossible. I remember one time, fed up with it all, I went in the middle of the nearly daily hospital deal to a meeting down below at an Alano Club. There, one of the men who guided me in early sobriety was chairing the meeting. He said, "staying sober is not about being happy." I said to myself, "Amen, brother." I was not happy, not the least bit.

My wife was too ill, a condition caused by the doctors but by accident, because she didn't fit the mainstream and doctors depend on mainstream in their practice. She was so desperately ill, not really human, so much pain, so much risk. Her electrolytes would get out of whack so far they would put her on the heart floor in case of an attack. She needed central lines because she couldn't eat. They would fail, get infected and so the docs would do things like puncture her lung by accident trying to place a new one.

People like me know what you have on your plate, dear, even though it is long ago for me, the late eighties. I lived like that for eight years, and then alcoholism broke her and I lived for another eight years waiting for her to die.

We have common ground, you and I.

Natalie said...

In my opinion, you are wasting your days at that place.
Cyndy is right, though...you have a choice and it is only yours to make.xx

Jen said...

I love you Chelle.

It is my honour to strive to understand you.


The Tall Red Head said...

No-one knows what is best for you, but you. And you will make the right choice. Cancer is such a god-awful fucking thing, and everyone deals with it their own way, the patient and the family. You have good friends around you that will let you deal with it your way, and respect you for it. Lots of love sent to you xx

Lisa said...

friends dont have to understand xx

Renee said...

Michelle all the hard parts and then they add up to harder parts and harder parts and harder parts.

I understand both you and your Mom.

I'm sorry Michelle.

I love you Michelle.

Love Renee xoxo

Sarah Lulu said...

A mixture of relief and grief ...yes you are doing so amazingly well.

And your Mum too ...making good choices for herself and what happens to her.

love you both. xxx

Kerry said...

hugs. xx

Bagman and Butler said...

The honor of trying to understand you now is not dubious...but it is an honor. You are wonderfully real. So is your mother. And having a chance to come to terms with her dying...and you having a chance to know that...is a blessing. Although you might think it is a dubious blessing at the moment.

Renee said...

Don't give up Michelle, we are all still here now and there is still lots of love to go around.

Love Renee xoxoxo

Diane said...

Oh honey. I'm so sorry you have to go through all this... and your mum, too. Just know what whatever you're feeling... it's OK.

And you will be OK. Of this I'm sure.


Daria said...

I'm sorry your family has to go through this ... such tough stuff.

I understand your mother's decision ... difficult as it may be.