Mom rode down to radiation today in a wheelchair. Every other day that's she's had radiation, she's ridden in a stretcher. Sitting up requires a lot more strength, endurance and energy. And today, she was fine to do it. We don't yet have any medical confirmation about tumors shrinking, but our own anecdotal evidence (less pain, more strength, less slurred speech, more alertness, etc) seems to indicate that she's responding to treatment. Maybe we're seeing what we want to see. But I do believe in the healing power of prayer, positive thoughts, laughter, hugs, massage (I told you I was a hippie) and more importantly, Mom does too. Healing takes many paths, but believing that it is possible seems to be an important next step.
That being said, we're trying to keep everything as positive as possible. While I am definitely open to hearing everyone's stories about their own cancer or other battles, please keep the tragic ones out of Mom's ears for now. If you need to share some amazing magic treatment from Thailand that saved your boss's niece's neighbor, tell me all about it in an email-please don't suggest to my mother that she should be in Bangkok instead of where she is, getting phenomenal care from world class oncologists (Seattle Cancer Care Alliance is extremely reputable! Google them!) and quite possibly the most heroic nursing staff in the country. Every procedure, every treatment, every medication that Mom takes has been carefully considered and approved by her and her family. We all desperately need her to be with us for the next three decades and we have no intention of compromising that possibility. Please know that every decision is a reflection of the decisions she's making (she's 100% in charge of her treatment) and love is our only motivation.
Yesterday I reported that both my parents enjoyed a glorious 9.5 hours of uninterrupted sleep. This morning, the amazing nurse G was talking with my dad and thanked him for all his help the night before. "Huh?" "You know, thanks for being up between 3 and 4am, helping her with the bathroom and ice and everything." "What?? I gotta tell you, G, I don't have any recollection of that." And that, my friends, is how you get rest in the hospital. Forget that you were awake at all. It's truly sleeping like a baby :-)
Tomorrow she has an MRI scheduled to see if the doctors can see what exactly is interfering with her vision. The hope is that if we can identify where the problem is, we can treat it and get her vision back. Apparently the doctors are also all in favor of a clean-shaven Ross.