I spent the day with mom and dad today. It was nice and relaxing. My uncle is in town and he spent some time teaching me how to make the best lasagna I've ever had. I'm hoping I can remember the recipe, but know he's only a phone call away...
Mom is still recovering after chemo #5. She received her first shot, and will not do it again. Extremely painful, and the idea of doing nine more shots after that is just too much. I understand. After all of the poking and prodding and everything she has gone through, she is ready for it to be over. Who COULD blame her? With this, we're not sure if she'll be able to do the last chemo in three weeks or have to wait longer. Dad is worried that this will change the outcome, but also understands that a person can only take so much.
Mom found out that she is anemic, too, so now not only do we have to worry about her white blood cells, but also her red one's. (Or did I say that backwards?) So...they'll be monitoring that, too. She's been very weak, hardly able to stand without her legs getting wobbly and I just hope that she gets her energy back enough to withstand this last chemo. The idea of one more chemo is enough to bring her to tears. Each chemo is becoming harder and harder. I thank God she only has one left because we use that as a mantra in getting her spirits lifted. "Just one more. just one more..." I know the chemo is working. The numbers show this. I just wish it could be over for her so her body could heal. I love her so much and hate to see her in such pain and her body so weak.
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