The Mimosa-Cheese ball Diet

The last few weeks have been challenging for the family. Chemo is no joke and I keep thinking that one day, years from now, we'll be sitting around shocked at how we used to treat cancer patients. My mom's hands and feet blistered and peeled until they were raw. She had trouble walking, which makes explosive diarrhea a fun plot twist. Her throat was lined with soars and her inability to taste food and swallow made eating more of a chore than a luxury.

The Moose Lodge had a benefit for her, which was a huge success and we are all so very grateful to everyone who showed their support.

She decided to ask for a week off of her treatment to be able to celebrate 4th of July on the boat at the lake, which she loves. Upon her return, her doctor started her on a different form of chemo in hopes to subside the hand-foot-taste side effects. This one, however, causes hair loss, among other things.

She had a CT scan in April that showed her tumors in her lungs shrunk down to half their original size and one tumor in her liver shrunk from 1.9cm to 1.6 cm, but after her change in chemo a recent ultrasound showed the liver tumor went up to 2.2cm, which might mean that the new chemo isn't strong enough or her tumors are becoming resistant. They will do another CT scan after Labor Day.

On her birthday, her best friend Tanya threw her a party and got her a towel that said, "Reserved For Julie Dexter" on it. I guess in Mexico a couple years back they would wake up early and put towels that said "reserved" down by the pool so that no one would take their chairs. Now, Tanya says every summer she plans on reserving a spot for my mom by her pool.

She smoked pot the other day with my sister and went from crying about dying while debating on whether quality of life should be over quantity of life, to discussing getting a male gigolo for the remainder of her time. She really wishes she had a partner to be there for her during this ordeal. It makes me sad that my mom never got to experience that lasting love we all hope for.

Her hair started falling out rather quickly and so today she took matters into her own hands and had what remained shaved off. I bought her some head scarves, some of which were long like hair and she joked about being a human wind gauge. All she had to do was go outside to see what direction the wind would blow her scarf in. Now she's looking up bald Halloween costumes. Surprisingly, she has a nice shaped head and can rock the bald look flawlessly.

She has a few books written by cancer survivors who were once considered terminal. They each followed a specific diet and have a list of herbs and supplements that helped them kill the cancer. I spoke with a nutritionist who gave me his own list of possible remedies. My mom loves food and having her ability to taste was something she wasn't willing to lose to chemo so my attempt at making her vegan failed, to say the least. It's frustrating for me that she doesn't want to change her diet, but it is frustrating for her that everyone has an opinion on what they think she should be doing and she would like to be in control of the life she has left.

We went to Kadampa Meditation Center the other day and the theme happened to be death. They discussed how not preparing yourself mentally, emotionally and spiritually for death can be traumatizing for not only you, but your loved ones. They recommended daily meditation on the fact that we all die and we do not know when. Practicing this can help us to live each day like it's our last and make compassionate choices,  which allows us to not have regret on our death bed. Dying with no regrets, in peace, helps soften the pain of those around you when you go. We plan on continuing classes there as she prepares herself for whatever lies ahead.

Personally, it is becoming more difficult to make light of this very heavy topic especially when my children are now learning of what their Grandmother is facing. Holding my six year old as he cried and told me how much he would miss her and how he didn't want her to leave him was a dose of reality that I wasn't prepared for. He said he wanted to make a book with every photo we had of her so that he could take it to bed with him at night and dream of her in his heart and never forget all the fun times they had together. I haven't written in a while because of this, but I know people have been wanting an update so hopefully this will do for now. My mother is still very much the light in the room, with a joke at every turn and I hope that even though the brat still drinks mimosas and eats cheese balls, maybe her good humor will be what helps prolong her life. At which point, she can write a book on curing cancer with the mimosa-cheese ball diet.