You have brains in your head.... and feet in your shoes.

This was transferred from my other blog, which I am working on merging with this one. I tended to be more personal over there, although still no one but me read it. 

February 11, 2016

Starting with a big sigh. I feel all mixed up. Like I have to decide the future, although that isn’t exactly true. Hubby always says he’s going to live to 67, because that’s when his dad died. So mainly I think this way because I know I am going to have to find my own way, if I am hanging in there beyond him!!

“You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You’re on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the one who’ll DECIDE WHERE TO GO…” ~ Dr. Seuss

so there I am.

take a deep breath. There’s still some time with my mom left… although we’ve been through the wringer this year. Less than three months after my dad died, my mom ended up with a bowel obstruction, and surgery. I don’t think this is quite fair, since for a lot of years my dad was in the hospital dealing with… a bowel obstruction. Over and over, we sat in the waiting room and wonder if he was going to make it this time. And finally, his body weakened by two falls and broken shoulders, he didn’t.

Fast forward to November. Another obstruction, another surgery. More time spent with my mom sitting next to HER wondering if SHE would make it. In the last five years, I have had more than enough of sitting next to hospital beds, or wandering the halls of skilled nursing facilities. Mom developed pneumonia, and congestive heart failure. They spoke of “palliative care”. My brother and I said our goodbyes. She didn’t seem to be responsive at all. But from somewhere came, “NURSE! Make sure they know I’m not dead yet!”

Between the surgeries, Mom had a breast ultrasound to check on a lump that had been biopsied and benign five years ago. Now that little bitty lump (7mm?) is cancer. Stage 1a. Hardly cancer at all. BUT…. now we have to decide what to do about it. Surgery? Lumpectomy? Mastectomy? Radiation? Hormone Therapy? Do nothing?

My mom is amazing. She’s five foot two, eyes of brown… 95 pounds on a good day. I don’t know how she’s made it this far. She’s 90. My heart says, do nothing. Take her where she wants to go. Help her have the best life she can for as long as she can.

One doctor says, you have to have a mastectomy RIGHT NOW!!! Another says, let’s give you a pill that will cause nausea, possibly vomiting and diarrhea… fatigue, weakness, possibly bone weakness, headaches, depression, mood swings?  The surgeon says, don’t do a thing. Go live your life, don’t worry, be happy. I like that one. I don’t know what my mom is going to choose.

So figure it out. I haven’t a clue. I’ve got soup in the pot and bread rising on the stove. That’s what I can manage today. And it will be okay. No matter what.