My mom is declining quickly; over the last two weeks she really seems to have gone downhill, in fact, she's really declined a lot since last Tuesday at Zooey's early birthday party. I've struggled a lot with being completely honest about some of her symptoms as of late, because I know she's still be reading my blog and I don't want to cause her any pain about something she may be sensitive about. I think it is to the point where I can be completely honest, because to be honest in another way, it is simply impossible for me to give everyone a specific, detailed update one-on-one.


She is very fatigued; the nurse, Elizabeth, has explained to us that this is in part due to the disease progressing and death approaching and also because her oxygen is low (it was 87 on Friday). She feels ill, like she's going to vomit, and is having a hard time taking her medications because of this. The anti-nausea has not been helping this much. Her appetite has significantly decreased; she may eat a couple of crackers and a yogurt all day. She is also very confused. This is the hardest thing on her, and for me, it is the hardest thing to watch. She has a hard time writing and thinking about numbers, and she's finding it harder to use her cell phone. We don't know if the cancer has gone to her brain, or if this is just a normal part of the dying process. At her visit last week, my mom asked about having an aide come in to help her shower and dress, because mornings are very hard for her (the cough, pain). For us to hear this, and for her to acknowledge this, was a big wake up call to how bad she's actually feeling. For anyone who knows my mom, you know she is extremely modest and this would be a worse case kind of request. Our family met the aide, Amy, on Friday, and it was agreed that she would start coming today and come in every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

That brings me to today. Last night my mom told my dad to cancel the aide. He did, and when Elizabeth called him this morning to tell him he can't cancel the aide (it is another way for Hospice to have eyes on my mom during the week to see how she's doing), my dad broke down crying about how bad my mom was doing. Elizabeth then rushed over to their house. Sarah was already on her way over and called me when she found out Elizabeth was there; I too went over. My mom was given some anti-nausea medication, and Elizabeth's professional opinion is that it is time to take my mom off of all medication except those needed for comfort measure. She told us that she had a very honest conversation with my mom this morning about how bad my mom feels, and my mom admitted she is ready to go. Elizabeth told us that when someone admits that, it is a big deal, and she really feels this is the best thing to do. My mom can't take her oral med's, because they make her feel so sick; she's just been laying in bed feeling more sick than she needs to. Elizabeth said that she told Sarah on Friday that she'd let her know when we got to the two week mark (at that time, she had given us a two month max "loose" window due to my mom putting on a strong face for her; we all know she can't say for sure), and she said today she feels my mom's time is probably at about a month, maximum. As she watches my mom this week, she'll be able to guage whether we are even closer to that two week mark. She told us as it gets closer we need to tell her it's ok for her to go and that we'll be ok. She also reiterated to us what the Hospice book they gave us says, not to take it personal when she says she doesn't want to see us or she wants to be alone, which she has started telling us within the last four days.

Of course, we don't feel like we'll be ok. Of course, it is scary and sad and heartbreaking. My pastor said something yesterday in church that really stood out to me. He said, "We need our brother, because sometimes the Christ in their heart is greater than the Christ in our own heart." Last week I read some on the parable of the paralytic man whose friends lowered him through the roof of the home where Jesus was teaching, because they believed that Jesus could heal him. No where in that passage does it say the man had his own faith that he would be healed; he was healed because of the faith of his friends. I have been thinking a lot about how much God has blessed me with so many wonderful friends who pray for our family and how your faith is carrying me through this when my faith sometimes seems to be in crisis. Thank you for your prayers; thank you for following Jesus' call to unite as one body under His head. Thank you for your hugs and your love. Thank you for the prayers that Jesus would hold us in His arms and strengthen our faith, because I know in my own life, He is doing just this, and He continues to help me through this by causing me to think on His promises. I feel that it is important that I tell you all that even when this hurts, even when I feel like it's going to kill me, I know my God is real; I know my God is in control. I know He is Just, Fair, Omniscient, even when things don't feel that way. His character and His promises are what hold me up.