1-6-2005

Well, something really cool is happening. I met Jamie and Todd New Year's Eve when they came over to play some games with us. I really liked Jamie and thought, "Hey.... prospective Ice Cream buddy." So I called her this week. She came over today and had some cookeis with me and just chatted about all sorts of everything. It turns out, about 2 years ago she was in just about the exact spot I stand with all this stuff. Her mom had just been diagnosed, Todd was about to go out on work-ups and deployments... and she went home for 6 mos. Unfortunately, her mother's battle was over very quickly (please God... let that NOT be a similarity). It is such an encouragement though, to know someone that's been there... And I think Jamie sounds like pretty good friend material.

Mom called me back today... which at first encouraged me, but she just sounded so bad. I wasn't able to talk to her because Jamie was here... maybe she will be sort of up to talk tomorrow. I'm so scared about going home next week, because I'm afraid of what I'll find. It will be so hard to see her in pain. But I WANT to be there. It's funny to want and dread something all at once.

I am starting to entertain the idea that perhaps I need to just GO to be with mom. Please God, please... let me get there by the time I need to be. Let mom have some time with her grand daughter.

Daddy has gotten real up front with me lately about how bad things are. He says that she has gone way downhill since she was here in Thanksgiving and he doesn't think she'd be able to do anything like that at this point. He says she sleeps much more, and she's much more weak. I'm so afraid... I'm just so afraid. And yet, Dad thinks we have some time. I WANT to get to that CHEMO ASAP. We need to start slaying this beast! I think we're all fearing it and wishing it would get here all at once. I hate hearing that she is having lung pain--that means the beast is growing. WE NEED TO FIGHT IT BACK!

I've done some research about the chemo mom will be on. Cisplatin and Gemzar seem to be top-notch, kick-ass drugs. I was worried that the doctor wasn't wanting to be agressive. Sounds like I didn't need to worry about that. Mom is getting good care. That makes me feel like I can relax about that a little. The side effects don't sound pleasant, but the people I've heard from who've experienced the treatment said that it's very doable. I want to start using this weapon.

I'm afraid too about seeing other people while I'm back. It's abundantly clear that my friends at home don't get it. Becca might have gotten a slight inkling when dad told her that mom wouldn't be able to come to the shower. I want to see people, but I want as much time with mom and dad that I can have. And... I am afraid for the awkwardness. For the questions. For the silence on the other end of the conversation when people start to understand that Stage IV isn't curable.

This little girl inside of me gives me hope. I don't know God's thoughts, but I want to believe that he wouldn't take mom before she gets to see this little one. Not with the uncanny weirdness of the timing.... Her name will mean, "Song of Light" and I trust that she will be that... I want mom to be able to lean back in the exquisite loveliness of the song... God please... please...