Mom, Dad, Pablo and me, around 1982.
So good to me. Not really, but I always did love that song. Poor Cass Elliot - an early death like so many of our talents in this world.
I slept through my alarm this a.m., so I awoke from an exciting dream - McKims and Paul and I driving around in an oversized Hawkeye golf cart that we ended up crashing. With that I awoke and checked my phone - it said the alarm had gone off a half hour before. Yikes! So I started in a rush.
I got to work by 7:30 a.m., so I did pretty well at catch up! And no more episodes of terrible cramps. Called Dr. Turner's office and spoke to a nurse. The Doc is off most of July - spose she's off to Italy again. So I make an appointment to see one of her partners, a man, thanks to a cancellation. I'll see him Wed. morning. As God is my witness I shall not suffer this curse month after month. I'll let you know what he says.
For Every Season
My bestie, Deb's mom passed away Saturday after a month in the hospice in Johnston. Marilyn had been diagnosed with lung cancer (and she was never a smoker) last winter around Christmas, after suffering from poor health for quite some time before that. She tried chemo and radiation for several weeks, but this spring they found that despite treatment the cancer wasn't giving up.
Deb and family found the same thing that we found with our parents, sometimes doctors don't want to give up. They feel like giving up is losing. But sometimes patients know best. At that point, they contacted hospice, an organization that knows how to treat people to help them live through the last stage of their life. Hospice empowers the dying person and their family.
Marilyn was able to live at home for a while, but her health slipped quickly. She was moved into the hospice a month ago and mercifully, finally passed on Saturday. It sure makes me think of my mom. I'm sorry Deb's is now gone too.
There's nothing like a mother, your own personal cheerleader. It's no fun being an orphan - even at 50! It's been 12 years since my mom died of lung cancer. In late summer 1996, Mom and I took a wonderful trip to Galena to meet Paul's sister Pat to deliver Amy for a visit with Pat's daughter Sarah, Amy's cousin.
After touring Galena, and buying some antiques, we traveled up the "coast" of Illinois and took a small ferry across to Iowa. Then we spent the night in Marquette, IA at a motel with a pink elephant in the drive and visited the riverboat casino there. Mom always did find the unique places to go. The next day we went to Bily Clocks in Spillville and Governor Larabee's Montauk Mansion in Clermont. Mom loved to learn.
That fall she called from Florida with the terrible news that she had lung cancer. She tried to sound brave. But she had to be frightened to death - she always thought she was too mean to get cancer - despite smoking 2 packs a day for some 50 years. It was small cell cancer, which can't be treated with surgery, so she tried chemo and radiation. But by the time she came home to Iowa in the spring of 1997, she was a shadow of her former self. It was downhill from there.
Paul and the kids and I planned to go to Vail for a vacation in August, even though Mom was in the Atlantic hospital. She seemed stable, and was at physical therapy when we stopped on our way through on our trip. Then later that day, when we pulled into Cindo's place in Vail, Cindy met us with the news that Mom had taken a terrible turn and we had to go back. Jud, age 8 said "I'm not going"! None of us were too eager to jump back into the car.
So the Alvillars drove over from Grand Junction, and we took off early the next day for the return trip. When we got to town, we rushed to see Mom who was suffering from a massive infection. To our dismay, there were no rooms at the Super 8, so we had to stay in the motel from hell - The Hawkeye that first night. Fitting name for a smoky, moldy place.
We spent most of the 2nd night sitting with Mom at the hospital, were we too learned the value of hospice. Even though Atlantic didn't have an actual hospice to put mom in, we were fortunate to have such an advocate for our family when the doctor wanted to continue to pump antibiotics into Mom. One night we had a great Dave Bullock steak dinner at Mom and Dad's place. There was lots of laughter.
It was an ugly way to die. Gasping for breath. Ironically, we walked by the respiratory therapist smoking in the entry of the hospital a couple times. How crazy is that?
Mom waited for me to go to the bathroom before she took her last breath. Guess she wanted to protect me even then. It was a relief when she was gone after that suffering. It was permanent. Even though the real mom had been gone for a few months. It was hard to face that she was no longer of this world.
I had a dream with both my parents in it the other night. They only had bit parts, but they were there. It was comforting. No matter how long they're gone, they'll always be with me.
I slept through my alarm this a.m., so I awoke from an exciting dream - McKims and Paul and I driving around in an oversized Hawkeye golf cart that we ended up crashing. With that I awoke and checked my phone - it said the alarm had gone off a half hour before. Yikes! So I started in a rush.
I got to work by 7:30 a.m., so I did pretty well at catch up! And no more episodes of terrible cramps. Called Dr. Turner's office and spoke to a nurse. The Doc is off most of July - spose she's off to Italy again. So I make an appointment to see one of her partners, a man, thanks to a cancellation. I'll see him Wed. morning. As God is my witness I shall not suffer this curse month after month. I'll let you know what he says.
For Every Season
My bestie, Deb's mom passed away Saturday after a month in the hospice in Johnston. Marilyn had been diagnosed with lung cancer (and she was never a smoker) last winter around Christmas, after suffering from poor health for quite some time before that. She tried chemo and radiation for several weeks, but this spring they found that despite treatment the cancer wasn't giving up.
Deb and family found the same thing that we found with our parents, sometimes doctors don't want to give up. They feel like giving up is losing. But sometimes patients know best. At that point, they contacted hospice, an organization that knows how to treat people to help them live through the last stage of their life. Hospice empowers the dying person and their family.
Marilyn was able to live at home for a while, but her health slipped quickly. She was moved into the hospice a month ago and mercifully, finally passed on Saturday. It sure makes me think of my mom. I'm sorry Deb's is now gone too.
There's nothing like a mother, your own personal cheerleader. It's no fun being an orphan - even at 50! It's been 12 years since my mom died of lung cancer. In late summer 1996, Mom and I took a wonderful trip to Galena to meet Paul's sister Pat to deliver Amy for a visit with Pat's daughter Sarah, Amy's cousin.
After touring Galena, and buying some antiques, we traveled up the "coast" of Illinois and took a small ferry across to Iowa. Then we spent the night in Marquette, IA at a motel with a pink elephant in the drive and visited the riverboat casino there. Mom always did find the unique places to go. The next day we went to Bily Clocks in Spillville and Governor Larabee's Montauk Mansion in Clermont. Mom loved to learn.
That fall she called from Florida with the terrible news that she had lung cancer. She tried to sound brave. But she had to be frightened to death - she always thought she was too mean to get cancer - despite smoking 2 packs a day for some 50 years. It was small cell cancer, which can't be treated with surgery, so she tried chemo and radiation. But by the time she came home to Iowa in the spring of 1997, she was a shadow of her former self. It was downhill from there.
Paul and the kids and I planned to go to Vail for a vacation in August, even though Mom was in the Atlantic hospital. She seemed stable, and was at physical therapy when we stopped on our way through on our trip. Then later that day, when we pulled into Cindo's place in Vail, Cindy met us with the news that Mom had taken a terrible turn and we had to go back. Jud, age 8 said "I'm not going"! None of us were too eager to jump back into the car.
So the Alvillars drove over from Grand Junction, and we took off early the next day for the return trip. When we got to town, we rushed to see Mom who was suffering from a massive infection. To our dismay, there were no rooms at the Super 8, so we had to stay in the motel from hell - The Hawkeye that first night. Fitting name for a smoky, moldy place.
We spent most of the 2nd night sitting with Mom at the hospital, were we too learned the value of hospice. Even though Atlantic didn't have an actual hospice to put mom in, we were fortunate to have such an advocate for our family when the doctor wanted to continue to pump antibiotics into Mom. One night we had a great Dave Bullock steak dinner at Mom and Dad's place. There was lots of laughter.
It was an ugly way to die. Gasping for breath. Ironically, we walked by the respiratory therapist smoking in the entry of the hospital a couple times. How crazy is that?
Mom waited for me to go to the bathroom before she took her last breath. Guess she wanted to protect me even then. It was a relief when she was gone after that suffering. It was permanent. Even though the real mom had been gone for a few months. It was hard to face that she was no longer of this world.
I had a dream with both my parents in it the other night. They only had bit parts, but they were there. It was comforting. No matter how long they're gone, they'll always be with me.
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