DianaChemo steals your appetite
May 17th 2008 05:54
When the chemo treatment first kicked in with mum there was great news from the oncologist. The cancer cells were dying, being knocked back, killed at a big rate.
My mother had the type of liver cancer where the liver was 'speckled' with small tumours, so surgery was never an option.
The best that could be hoped for was a big 'pushing back' of the malignant cells and a reduction of the threat of spreading.
Mum wasn't even that sick from the chemo to start with. All reports were encouraging and life became a 'wait n see' set up.
I can't remember all the details but I know after a bit mum started to lose weight, to get sick from the treatment, to not want to eat anything.
And therein lay the first problem: how to get her to eat, not to mention what to get her to eat.
Don't forget dad was looking after her, they lived 4 hours from Melbourne and both were no spring chickens.
So, we hunted around, got tips from the hospital, tried to coax her with delicate 'invalid' food.
She couldn't take anything greasy. Nothing cheesy. Oh, nothing that smelt strongly. Had to be fresh. My God, the fussiness of that woman! Oh, how we tried to please her, but my Lord twas difficult. Tension was palpable between husband and wife.
Me, being the only daughter in a forest of sons, could tempt her, but I couldn't always be there. Should I have quit my job to look after her full-time? At the time mine was the only tangible income,so.....
Anyway. I remember the food thing as being really really tricky and I also remember the upset between mum and dad as terrible. Dad was beside himself trying to look after her and feed her n stuff.
Us kids looked on helplessly. Fifty years of happy marriage down the drain? No, but I think there is something to do with seriously ill people which changes their personality. Mum was very very difficult to please and hard to deal with.
Other times, she would dissolve into tears, Dad would storm out and I would just cuddle mum helplessly.
But things weren't always sad. Mum sure knew she was loved, that was one thing. And the family drew very close together, united in their efforts.
Is this too much for you, dear reader? Can you stand me telling you these types of things?
My mother had the type of liver cancer where the liver was 'speckled' with small tumours, so surgery was never an option.
The best that could be hoped for was a big 'pushing back' of the malignant cells and a reduction of the threat of spreading.
Mum wasn't even that sick from the chemo to start with. All reports were encouraging and life became a 'wait n see' set up.
I can't remember all the details but I know after a bit mum started to lose weight, to get sick from the treatment, to not want to eat anything.
And therein lay the first problem: how to get her to eat, not to mention what to get her to eat.
Don't forget dad was looking after her, they lived 4 hours from Melbourne and both were no spring chickens.
So, we hunted around, got tips from the hospital, tried to coax her with delicate 'invalid' food.
She couldn't take anything greasy. Nothing cheesy. Oh, nothing that smelt strongly. Had to be fresh. My God, the fussiness of that woman! Oh, how we tried to please her, but my Lord twas difficult. Tension was palpable between husband and wife.
Me, being the only daughter in a forest of sons, could tempt her, but I couldn't always be there. Should I have quit my job to look after her full-time? At the time mine was the only tangible income,so.....
Anyway. I remember the food thing as being really really tricky and I also remember the upset between mum and dad as terrible. Dad was beside himself trying to look after her and feed her n stuff.
Us kids looked on helplessly. Fifty years of happy marriage down the drain? No, but I think there is something to do with seriously ill people which changes their personality. Mum was very very difficult to please and hard to deal with.
Other times, she would dissolve into tears, Dad would storm out and I would just cuddle mum helplessly.
But things weren't always sad. Mum sure knew she was loved, that was one thing. And the family drew very close together, united in their efforts.
Is this too much for you, dear reader? Can you stand me telling you these types of things?
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Comment by Hygiea
As to talking about these things, two words: we must. The fear and stigma benefits no-one. One of the big "C"s is going to get almost all of us (cancer or cardiovascular), so let's "out" it!
Comment by Ceres
I love her saying "you are living as well as dying until the last cup of tea, the last conversation and the last breath."
Live each day. Love each day.
Comment by Diana
Eyes On Oz