"I'm A Little ACDC."

You can't make this stuff up.

When Dr. Donadio told us today that Mom would likely be kept through the weekend for monitoring and infection control, Mom said, "it's okay, we're a little ACDC about infection."

If you're slow on the uptake, ACDC is an 80's metal band. She meant OCD: obsessive compulsive disorder.

Today has been quieter, mostly because Mom sleeps through everything. I'm watching her doze with a spoonful of pudding in her hand right now actually. Although her fatigue is extreme, her pain is much improved today, and without too many narcotics. Her mouth sores appear to be improving, but her cognition is a little spotty. Chemo brain is in full effect.

The MRI and CT scan done yesterday were not massively impressive. As Dr. Donadio put it, there were a few little blebbs here and there, but nothing wildly concerning, and nothing that could be contributing to her bone pain. For all intensive purposes, the masses we've been tracking are stable. The treatment however, is clearly taking its toll.

Here in lies the massive debate which we knew we'd eventually come to: this cancer is incurable according to the medical world, and the objective of these chemotherapies is to increase quality of life. We're now teetering on the fence of increasing quality of life versus doing more harm than it's worth. Our objective during this admission is to control her symptoms, watch her blood counts (she needed another platelet infusion today, for example), and prevent infection. When she is safe to go home and she has more energy and less chemo brain, we'll have to weigh the risks and benefits of treatments going forward.

Everyone has feelings and thoughts surrounding this I'm sure, but ultimately, it is Mom's decision. I know she gets the most out of her days when she is able to do mediation, acupuncture, massage, deep breathing, and especially enjoy all the delicious food being delivered to us. When she is ready, we'll start focusing on just the things that make her feel good, not this crazy chemo business.

Her moment to moment needs have certainly changed as well. Since she is no longer able to even readjust in bed, the level of care she requires when her energy is low has become significant. In speaking with her care team today, and acknowledging that she'd like to stay home as much as possible, we've started researching some options for help in the house. As wonderful as Gwennie, Paul, and the rest of our friends and family have been, there is a lot of training that goes in to caring for someone this needy that can not be taught overnight. For anyone who has been there, caring for someone is emotionally and physically exhausting. It is important for everyone to feel capable and safe in what their role is, and not to compromise themselves or their loved one. As hard as it is to step back sometimes, ultimately what is best for Mom is to have good care, and by releasing her care to professionals, it can free up her family to be just that: family. This way, all of her friends and family can focus on doing the things they enjoy with my mom instead of feeling responsible for all aspects of her care (except for me, cause I'm ACDC).

Things are changing, but Mom is happy. She is not defeated, she is realistic. She's spent the last two months (lovingly) barking orders at Gwennie and I to clean out closets, organize papers, transfer this, box up that, mail those, etc. Now is the fun part. She takes a lot of joy and comfort in meeting with friends one on one, reinventing her thoughts on spirituality, listening to music, and discussing her childhood memories.

Still no visitors as her white blood cell count is below what is desirable, and talking on the phone strains her already weak voice. She's LOVED the St. Francis emails though. Out of all the pictures you can choose to be on your email, the fluffy cat wearing strands of pearls has won, hands down.