Initial Update on Mom Jul. 30

Foremost, thank you all so very much for your kind words of support and encouragement you’ve shared with mom. This means the world to her.

As I’m sure you can well imagine, mom’s recent diagnosis is a lot for her to work through. While she is thrilled to have so much outpouring of love and affection, which is of great importance, having to share the same information repeatedly with so many people is more than she wants to continue managing for the time being. Also, an unintended consequence of having so many people reach out all at once is a little overwhelming to her as well as giving her the sense that everyone thinks the worst (despite how far from the truth this may be).

For the time being, I will provide you with regular updates on behalf of mom. Additionally, please make me your point person for anything you would like to relay to her as well as any questions you may have moving forward. Al would really appreciate your support, too. This has been, most understandably, very difficult for him as well.

If you would like to send mom and/or Al a hand written card or letter, please only share positive words of encouragement, happy memories, etc. vs. anything that could be construed as sorrowful. You can mail your correspondence to:

Patty & Al

c/o B Davis

Normandy Park, WA

I drove out on Monday to pick up mom and Al, and brought them back to Seattle on Tuesday. For the time being they are staying with their closest friends Sally and Robin Rosauer in Sammamish.

Mom looks great! She’s leaner than I’d like to see her. In spite of her very grim oncology prognosis last Friday, mom has made up her mind she’s disallowing anyone to tell her when it’s her time. Her emotional outlook is favorable, and her mindset facing this is of greatest importance. She is being much stronger than I anticipated. I am convinced if she believes she can heal and recover, her chances for remission are exponentially increased. So too in our minds is it important to have this same belief and hold the most favorable hope of her recovery in our hearts.

I’ve attached a photo I took of mom and Al in front of their Coeur d’Alene home just before we took to the road Tuesday. I am well beyond wistful each time I think on this moment. Amid all the uncertainty, it is certain their lives are forever changed. We all walk bravely into this next chapter, which I am optimistic could possibly be a new lease on life for mom.

Our next step is getting a second opinion. We have a 10:00 a.m. appointment Monday with the head of oncology at Seattle Cancer Care Alliance. Suffice to say we will be in the best possible hands of anyone with a specialty in this field of practice anywhere in the world. This has positively helped brighten mom’s outlook.

Please anticipate another update following our meeting on Monday. In the meantime, thank you in advance for your positive thoughts and prayers. I’ll look forward to communicating with you as mom’s liaison during this intensely challenging time for us all.

Most sincerely and humbly yours,

Hope

As it turns out, my husband's sister-in-law (guess that makes her mine, too) is a local oncology nurse. She found us the very best oncologist for my mom's specific cancer type. We're bridging the connection today.

The day after my mom's diagnosis we had family photos scheduled with my husband's direct family. This has been on our calendar for weeks. Behold, someone on this side of our family happens to work in this field directly related to my mom's disease.

On Saturday, while we were still with the in-laws, my mom calls to share the news of her choice to come to Seattle to be with her closest friends as well as be where she can get the best possible medical advice and care the world has to offer. This just seems divinely guided.

I am so incredibly grateful for my mom's willingness to be open to gathering more information and wanting to be near her loved ones. I'm so grateful for having a family connection to the best possible specialist available for my mom. I can already tell from my mom this feels like a huge win to her, and I know this is helping her outlook which will help her heal.

Choice

What a difference a day makes. Friday my mom is resigned to an incurable prognosis and slated to begin chemo as soon as Tuesday. I'm certain the myriad of thoughts clouding her mind that day more than overwhelmed her, at the very least. She resisted my opinion about getting a second or third opinion from a specialist or two in Seattle, which is at the forefront of cancer research and treatment options.

"What would my doctor say," she asked.

"Mom, this is about your body, your life, your future - not about someone else's ego," I said.

Yesterday, after a heart-to-heart she had with her best friend Sally, she has chosen to come to Seattle for opinion(s) as well as treatment. I couldn't be more elated!

Sally suffers from a terminal lung illness, non-cancer related, and is on a waiting list for a lung transplant. Growing up she was in many ways like a second mother to me, only a much more empowered, head-strong and jovial one at that.

Sally and her husband are comfortable. They offered their home to my mom and her partner Al. Sally said to my mom, "If you and I have to go soon, we're going holding hands." My mom wept as she told me, and this inspired my own eyes to mist and my heart to swell.

I'm leaving in the morning to pick up my mom and Al from Coeur d'Alene. Where I choke up is not knowing whether my mom will ever return to the beautiful home she has made. I cannot imagine what must be going through her mind.

Just had lunch with some beloved friends, and were having a conversation about choice. No one is a victim. Even through non-action we still make our choices.

For example, a friend of mine, who is a sincere pain in the ass, admitted on a camping trip several years ago that he and his now ex partner's adoption of their son was a mistake, more so that he didn't want to be a parent. My response was simply that he made the choice by allowing his partner to drive what ideally would be a couple's joint choice. For that reason he had chosen, is not a victim and had best step up to take responsibility for that choice. He has since taken some responsibility, there's always room for improvement. I digress ...

I was thrilled yesterday to hear confidence and fight in my mom's voice. She seems happy with her choice, and it is one I can wholeheartedly get behind. I am looking so very forward to seeing her tomorrow, the first time since her concerning news broke. I love my mom dearly, and I want to be there with her each step of the way with conscious choice!

Prognosis

Just got off the phone with my mom a little bit ago. The oncologist she met with told her her cancer is stage IV and incurable.

Honestly, I'm almost more concerned about what my dear mom is doing to herself right now mentally and emotionally than the impact the cancer is having on her body.

I wish I could be with her now. While she's been working and undergoing various tests this week she didn't want that to interfere with our visit.

I've heard stories of patients overcoming the incurable. I've been reading a book about this, 'Mind Over Medicine.' My mom received the copy I sent her this week.

No matter what I do, I have to remember she is in the driver's seat. I have to be OK with whatever path she takes, and I will be. Right now it's most important to care for her, to love all the time we have left together whether a little or a lot.

I'm a bit numb, admittedly. I'm a problem solver, an optimistic one at that. There's always a solution. Anything is possible.

Sure, my mom and I have our differences. Who cares? I was 10 weeks old before someone held me in their arms and beamed at me with pure love. That's who she is for me, such an incredible source of love and light. When I'd run errands with her as a kid, people used to ask if we were together. We'd smile at each other then back at the person questioning, and my mom was always so quick to say, "Yes, of course, he's my son!" In those people's defense, we don't really bare much if any resemblance.

One of my favorite stories of this nature. My folks, brother and I were at a community picnic. We had just moved to Virginia, the Old Dominion. I may have been nearly three, so I don't recall this. One of our new neighbors, Norma Kravitts, came over to introduce herself. After nearly making the rounds, she got a puzzled look on her face and in a sincere Southern drawl, she says "Now, where'd he come from?" Despite my brother also having been adopted, he could somewhat pass for being theirs at his young age. By comparison I looked distinctly different.

One of my best friends from college, his dad murdered his mom in cold blood before his very eyes. Yes, this recent diagnosis and prognosis are most unfavorable. I am grateful for the many years I have shared with my mom. I've been feeling distant from her in more recent years. It's unfortunate this cancer is what's bringing us closer during this time.

One can't ever know how long one has. This is further reminder to love each day, enjoy each moment. When we are alive, anything is possible.

I know there will be good days ahead. Except for the concerning news, and my mom really understandably deeply upset, today has actually been a good day. I hope my mom can learn to make her days good as much as possible. I'm eager to be with her next week. She will always have my love ...

The Impermanence of Friendship

Feeling a little lost and disconnected today. This seems to be the case when I'm emotionally a little needy. Always prefer to be the one lending support vs. needing it. Also feeling guilty for wanting support when it is my mom who could really use it much more than I right now.

I've been thinking about who I turn to during difficult times. Back in the day I could turn to so many. Today I turn to maybe one or two, including my husband. Perhaps that's just life as I continue to age and mature. It is said when one is young it's important to have many friends, and as one grows older it's important to have just a few good ones.

Before my illness I had a very full social life. Since becoming ill, several people I used to think of as close friends have transformed into acquaintances. I'm adjusting to the way our friendship was in my memory compared to the way it is now. Since seeing these things for what they are, I really don't want to change the way things have changed. My sense is, if the bond of friendship is solid, it will withstand the test of time. Therefore I will adjust my mindset and allow things to be as they are. If the bond remains, strengthens, weakens or breaks, it will be what it is. Only time will tell ...

Just Breathe ...

Yesterday while at a special breakfast for my husband's birthday, my mom sends me a text message that simply states: "Please call me as soon as you can." Of course I immediately jumped up and excused myself from the table to call her. When she answered, I was compelled to ask her right away "What's going on?!"

Last week she mentioned having shortness of breath. It's a horrible feeling. Breath is the essence of life. The single act of inhalation feeds our ability to carry on for another few moments. For two years I've struggled with shortness of breath as one of many symptoms from my chronic illness. At times I wondered whether I may eventually become unable to draw another breath.

Recently I recall having read somewhere: After all, life is inevitably fatal. Thus I believe there is an acute awareness all humans possess knowing one day we will draw our final breath in this life. Panic around the sense or even the very thought of this may be instinctual. It is in our nature to carry on.

When my mom told me of her shortness of breath last week, she thought it had to do with the change of manufacturer for her blood pressure meds. So she had made an appointment to see her doctor and get to the bottom of it.

"I have a cancerous tumor on my lungs," my mom explains to me as she broke into tears. Suddenly I found myself reacting from a stern yet somewhat angry place. Angry because my mom has already suffered so much in her life. Angry because my mom has poorly managed her health for many years. Angry because my mom doesn't deal well with these types of situations. Angry because there is a possibility I may not have as much time with my mom as I had always thought I would. Angry because we live in a world that is so highly toxic so many living beings are suffering illness and disease.

"Mom," I said. "Life is presenting you with the ultimate choice. You can choose to press on or you can choose to give in. What do you choose?"

She, thankfully, told me she wants to remain here with her loved ones. She's just scared about what she may have to endure to achieve this.

It won't be until next week when she meets with an oncologist. They still have more tests to run. As of today, they have confirmed she has lung cancer. The next step is to identify how localized, course of treatment, etc. It's the not knowing that's scaring the shit out of her and on top of that she gravitates toward envisioning the most catastrophic fates.

"Mom," I said. "Now more than ever it is extremely important for you to be positive. If you wallow, you allow things to get worse. If you chose optimism, better results are possible."

So many times I cursed being chronically ill. Yet in this time of my mom's health crisis, my experience in illness has been a Godsend. I once worked through a time when my body was so ill, when I was such a frail shell of my former self, when I could barely move a muscle, literally, I had seriously contemplated death as preferable to the life I was no longer enjoying. Ultimately I wanted to live. I chose life. My health has improved, vastly, coupled with no less than an extensive amount of dedicated work.

I am well aware I cannot do this work for my mom. In some ways I wish I could because I've been around the block. This is her path, her journey to venture. I will be there for her as much as possible.

When I returned to the table, I couldn't help but break the news to my husband with tears in my eyes. It was in that moment the little boy in me cried out for mercy on my dear mommy, the woman who filled my upbringing with such incredible love and light (despite her own inner darkness). She's the only mom I've got!

I've reached out a couple times to my dearest friend. She's a wonderful support. It's great to have a sensible sounding board. She's encouraged me to do what I know in my heart to be true. I must go be with my mom, especially now. I'm planning to fly out to Coeur d'Alene this week.

Meanwhile, I'm remaining as positive and pragmatic as humanely possible. I'm no good to my mom if I can't be a loving, level-headed support to her.

Mom told me on the phone tonight she has always wanted to go like my dear Grandma did, without knowing what was happening to her. She says now she fears she may go through something awful. That is life. Truly. Life has its wonderful moments and it's incredibly challenging ones. It may have longevity, or it may be too short lived. The truth is, no one knows when they will draw their very last breath.

I encouraged her for every breath she takes, for every moment she is herself, able to enjoy all the things she loves, to just be grateful. This is how a good life is lived.

My mom has all the people she needs to help her through this so long as she can rely on herself the most. That remains to be seen. I am cautiously optimistic and will encourage her in whatever way I know how.

For now, I'm going to just breathe and take things as they come as much as humanely possible.