As you know, my mother's cancer (liver and pancreas) is terminal. Yesterday she began bleeding from the rectum and ended up in the hospital. After tests, the doctors have determined that the bleeding is due to the tumor on the liver. Surgically, there is nothing they can do. In fact, there is almost nothing at all that they can do, save make her as comfortable as possible. She thinks the chemo option is no longer viable and that there will be no more.
Right now, she is still not in pain, which is a blessing. In fact, she had two pints of blood transfused yesterday and was feeling quite energetic this afternoon. Her sense of humor was intact, too.
And her voice is strong. So strong that I almost don't believe her when she says that she 'might make it through the summer.' Emphasis on "might."
She reminded me that pancreatic cancer, once it gets hold, is usually a swift killer. I already knew that, having scoured the internet about it, but I let her tell me anyway. We talk very matter of factly about when I might be coming out again and whether I will be able to get away from my very busy summer work schedule, etc., if the worst happens between now and the end of July. We talk about what I will do when my family and I are away on our annual camping trip in August and I need to stay in touch with her and/or the rest of the family about her condition.
Truth is, I may not go on that camping trip this year. We'll see how Mom is (IF Mom is) at the beginning of August. If I do go, I'll drive out from the campsite to the road twice a day in order to have cell phone signal and check in.
And if she is "incapacitated" (Mom's word) by then, I will skip the camping trip all together and head for her bedside.
Mom and I are planners by nature, so this talk was actually comforting to both of us, I think. Even if the plans don't go as we envision, we both like having them in place. It gives us a 'jumping off' point anyway.
Scripture says that our days are appointed by God. I have to admit that I wish He'd appointed a few more for my mother.