We met with the oncologist today and my mom had blood drawn for a review of her labs, including metabolic and thyroid values. He continues to seem optimistic given (1) mom hasn’t taken nausea medicine in two weeks, (2) gained one pound, (3) still no return of ascites, (4) seems to be gaining strength and energy each day, and (5) can control what pain she has with Tylenol — that is no need for the big guns, aka, vicodin.

Next week we start on Cycle 3 of chemo.

But we are making the best of today!

We had a great Mother’s Day yesterday. G. and I went to her house on Saturday evening after a day of wine tasting in Sonoma. She had already received the flowers I’d ordered — a much bigger arrangement than I’d thought. On Sunday I gave her other gifts–a new set of bed coverlet and pillow shams to brighten her bedroom.

Overall, her energy level seems to be improving. She was able to help me with dinner — shelling peas and fava beans, peeling potatoes, etc. And she went with me to the garden a few times. We watched a silly movie (Nacho Libre, with Jack Black) on Saturday night, and it was good to see/hear her laugh.

I can often tell how she’s feeling by how much she jokes, even sarcastically. She seemed to be in good spirits, even though she still tires very easily and looks extremely frail.

This is another “week off” chemo. Cycle Three starts next week. Her oncologist’s appointment is this Wednesday. She still complains of something bothering her abdomen. But when pressed, she admits it’s not new and it’s not worsening.

Last week she was mentioning how her hands were trembling. It’s been happening for a while (over a year), and a previous primary care MD said it may be related to her thyroid. I’m hoping her thyroid levels are getting back within normal range now that her oncologist adjusted her medication. But I’ve also read it could be a vitamin B12 problem. Considering her lack of calories/nutrition, this would not surprise me. Add it to the list of stuff to talk with the doc.

Mom and I went to the infusion center this morning, as I had 10:30 am/gemzar only on the calendar. But apparently when they switched her from cisplatin they also changed the schedule. So now it’s two weeks on (both carboplatin + gemzar) and two weeks off. We have an appointment with the oncologist next Wednesday.

She seems to be doing OK — no nausea. The fatigue is still difficult and it seems she continues to lose weight. If you haven’t seen her in a while, it would be startling. Definitely on the agenda to discuss with the oncologist next week.

But for now that’s the update.

A few days before she left the Azores to immigrate to the U.S.

On May 1, 1962 my mother landed at JFK airport from the Azores. She was alone, a 24-year-old woman who had never been on a plane, had never seen so many electric lights, had never seen a black person in person, and didn’t speak a word of English. She was coming to join my father who had arrived several months before and was waiting for her in California.

Her flight landed at night and the connecting flight from JFK to SFO was the next morning. But this poor girl had no idea how to navigate the airport to her departure gate, and had no arrangements for staying the night other than sitting in a chair waiting for the next morning.

A Hispanic woman approached her and between Spanish and Portuguese, the two were able to communicate. The woman offered to take my mother to a hotel to stay the night and would return with her the next morning to the airport. My mother, naive and trusting, went with her. She was enchanted with the tall buildings and lights, and even ducked in the taxi as they drove under a train bridge with the train passing overhead. But when my mother got settled into her hotel room, next door to the woman’s room, she started to realize what a vulnerable situation she was in — no English, little money, and no idea where she was. My mother had grown up with no phone, no electricity, no running water, no television. What if the woman left her there??

She did not sleep that night. Instead, she stayed dressed the entire night, sitting at the window watching NYC pass by, waiting and listening for the woman’s door.

Luckily, the woman kept her word and knocked on her door the next morning and took her back to the airport and to her departing gate, where she made it safely to SFO and eventually settled into her adventure in the United States.

My entire family has my mother to thank for having made it out of subsistence living in the Azores and into the United States, as my mother was the sponsor for all her brothers and sisters (and her eldest sister’s brood of nine children). I’m not sure anyone has ever thanked her or expressed any sincere gratitude for what my mother did for them.

In any case, tonight we celebrated mother’s JUBILEE. I bought a half bottle of champagne, roasted some salmon and baby potatoes, and bought my mom two bouquets of tulips. And we celebrated the last 50 years of her time in the United States.

And I am thankful.

Today I was supposed to be on a plane to Italy for three weeks to celebrate ten years that GS proposed along the hillside overlooking the Amalfi Coast. Instead I was with mom at an infusion center, then at the hospital getting her ready for a blood transfusion tomorrow. Makes the thought of planning seem futile.

Mom had Day 2, Cycle 2 (carboplatin + gemzar) today. Everything ran well. No nausea. Pain managed. Unfortunately, more weight loss.

Plus her hemoglobin is low (anemia) so they gave her a dose of Aranesp (a product I’m very familiar with through my work; the company that makes it, Amgen, is a client of mine). And tomorrow she’s going in for a four-hour blood transfusion.

So if we stick to the original plan (see paragraph one) we are at the halfway point of the chemotherapy regimen.

The weather has been warming up here in Napa, and we’ve enjoyed the daily trip out to the garden to see how things are progressing — you can see the embryonic grape clusters forming, the orange tree is blossoming, the tomato plants are holding their own.

This morning on my early walk I spotted six hot air balloons hovering over town. It’s such a peaceful scene and I love those quiet hour-long walks around town, and reminiscing about where friends lived and where we drove around town in the flush of independence after getting driver’s licenses.

Mom continues to hold her own. While she still complains of the fatigue, she has made enormous progress since a couple weeks ago. This morning she joined me in the garden as I planted four tomato plants. She directed me on where to put them, how to prepare the soil, etc. That was a significant triumph.

She is still running on low power, but has managed to shuffle back and forth. Just a little while ago, she walked to the end of the driveway to bring in the compost bin and she stopped to sit on the short wall and chat with the neighbor. He brought in the bin and put it in the backyard, but my mom was prepared to do it herself.

So we enjoy these little triumphs and moments.

Here are some pictures from her garden.

We’ve returned from the first round of chemo in what is now Cycle 2. Again, it’s once a week and the schedule goes like this:

Week 1: carboplatin + gemzar
Week 2: repeat
Week 3: gemzar only
Week 4: break

Then we start on Cycle 3.

Mom held up well and is now taking a much-deserved nap. The doctor said her thyroid was totally whacked and that could have been a significant contributor to how crummy she’s been feeling, particularly the fatigue.

She weighs under 110 pounds now, and he doesn’t want her to lose any more weight. So I’ve loaded up the freezer with ice cream and I’m putting butter in everything. Calories are the name of the game. While she was in the infusion center I went out and bought her a few extra small t-shirts and little spring sweaters so she doesn’t look like she’s swimming in her clothes.

The good news is that mom has perked up a bit since starting the extra dose of thyroid medicine on Saturday. Her sense of humor is back. The doctor is very encouraged by the fact that her abdomen is not swollen (ascites) and her pain is manageable with Tylenol (vs. vicodein). He says those are extremely promising signs.

I came across this article in The New York Times, as the headline grabbed my attention:

Caregiving as a “Roller-Coaster Ride From Hell”

While the article focuses on the role of wife as caregiver, a few things resonated as the role of daughter as caregiver.

In particular, the second paragraph struck a chord. So I would like to take a moment to thank those who have not only been diligent and regular in checking in on mom, but who have also checked in on me. I’ll be reaching out to you individually. But know that I will always remember your kindness.

The nurse at the oncologist’s office called this morning to tell us the results from Monday’s brain MRI — all clear. Thank God.