The past few days has been a shock to me.
Last weekend I had to drive down to Austin to get mi abuela, and move her into my household.
Well my grandmother was diagonosed about 9 months ago with 4 types of cancer: Lung, Liver, Spinal, Thyroid. She underwent chemotherapy, and beat the thyroid cancer within 2 months. She started improving dramatically. Initially she has 1 lesion on her lung, 9 on her liver, and a few in intervals between three spinal sections. Then everything went stable after 6 months. No more improvements, but no negative changes as well. Her oncologist (cancer doctor?) was actually the same oncologist that treated lance armstrong. Armstrong acutally has a ranch down in central texas, and I had the opportunity to meet him. He sat through my grandmothers first chemo. But anywho. The only problem with chemotherapy going stable is the fact that each chemo does damage to your body. Not to mention makes you feel like total shit. It kills bad... yes...but it also kills off the good. She used to weigh about 150 lbs, and she's 5'2. A heavy set woman. Now she weighs a mere 85 lbs. I started to realize. If the cancer doesn't kill her, the chemo's effect of malnutrition will. Chemo depletes most patients appeites, causing them to not want to eat, thus leading to malnutrition. So seeing as how my grandmother couldn't take care of herself, we moved her in with us.
Well, it took mi abuela 6 months to even show hair loss. Then it went drastic. Well whenever I arrived at her house last weekend, I did not know she had shaved her head. I walked in the door, saw her, and was awestruck. Once I regained my ability to speak, I told her she looked great, as I should. Well.. the entire time, I just kept thinking more and more about my grandma. Living so miserably and lonely. It's been hard for her to accept that she can't do all the things that she used to. She accepted that she cannot drive anymore and etc. But she is still trekking. lol. Well. Gosh.
I know this may sound bad, but in a way, I feel that her moving in ... well... is almost a burden. I don't mind tending to her and all, but I hate for her to hear all the bullshit that my parents get into. But most of all, I don't want to be the one that wakes up in the morning, checks on her, and finds that her clock has stopped ticking ya know? I... just have been thinking way too much about this, and i figured a blog was a good way to vent it.
I was looking through old pictures today. I saw some pictures of my grandmother when I was just a tot. Her skin was still showing her ethnicity, and her hair was thick and black. Then the next picture jumped up to when I was 12. Right after the furnace accident. She lost her darkness from the burn, and loss of pigment. She had stopped dying her hair, and the grey had begun to show. Then I saw a picture from just last year. her hair was no longer curly, it was short and fully grey. But she still look well. And she looked happy. I peek around my door and looked across the hall where she was sleeping. I feel that if anyone compared the picture to now, they would think she had aged 10 years. She just looks absolutely miserable, and it kills me. Sometimes I don't believe she even wants to live any longer, and she is just withering away, and waiting for her last breath to come. Harsh? Maybe, true? More than likely. I look at it all, and think, all this misery upon herself, and others, just for 20 years of smoking.
So next time you light up that cigarette, think.
-D
Last weekend I had to drive down to Austin to get mi abuela, and move her into my household.
Well my grandmother was diagonosed about 9 months ago with 4 types of cancer: Lung, Liver, Spinal, Thyroid. She underwent chemotherapy, and beat the thyroid cancer within 2 months. She started improving dramatically. Initially she has 1 lesion on her lung, 9 on her liver, and a few in intervals between three spinal sections. Then everything went stable after 6 months. No more improvements, but no negative changes as well. Her oncologist (cancer doctor?) was actually the same oncologist that treated lance armstrong. Armstrong acutally has a ranch down in central texas, and I had the opportunity to meet him. He sat through my grandmothers first chemo. But anywho. The only problem with chemotherapy going stable is the fact that each chemo does damage to your body. Not to mention makes you feel like total shit. It kills bad... yes...but it also kills off the good. She used to weigh about 150 lbs, and she's 5'2. A heavy set woman. Now she weighs a mere 85 lbs. I started to realize. If the cancer doesn't kill her, the chemo's effect of malnutrition will. Chemo depletes most patients appeites, causing them to not want to eat, thus leading to malnutrition. So seeing as how my grandmother couldn't take care of herself, we moved her in with us.
Well, it took mi abuela 6 months to even show hair loss. Then it went drastic. Well whenever I arrived at her house last weekend, I did not know she had shaved her head. I walked in the door, saw her, and was awestruck. Once I regained my ability to speak, I told her she looked great, as I should. Well.. the entire time, I just kept thinking more and more about my grandma. Living so miserably and lonely. It's been hard for her to accept that she can't do all the things that she used to. She accepted that she cannot drive anymore and etc. But she is still trekking. lol. Well. Gosh.
I know this may sound bad, but in a way, I feel that her moving in ... well... is almost a burden. I don't mind tending to her and all, but I hate for her to hear all the bullshit that my parents get into. But most of all, I don't want to be the one that wakes up in the morning, checks on her, and finds that her clock has stopped ticking ya know? I... just have been thinking way too much about this, and i figured a blog was a good way to vent it.
I was looking through old pictures today. I saw some pictures of my grandmother when I was just a tot. Her skin was still showing her ethnicity, and her hair was thick and black. Then the next picture jumped up to when I was 12. Right after the furnace accident. She lost her darkness from the burn, and loss of pigment. She had stopped dying her hair, and the grey had begun to show. Then I saw a picture from just last year. her hair was no longer curly, it was short and fully grey. But she still look well. And she looked happy. I peek around my door and looked across the hall where she was sleeping. I feel that if anyone compared the picture to now, they would think she had aged 10 years. She just looks absolutely miserable, and it kills me. Sometimes I don't believe she even wants to live any longer, and she is just withering away, and waiting for her last breath to come. Harsh? Maybe, true? More than likely. I look at it all, and think, all this misery upon herself, and others, just for 20 years of smoking.
So next time you light up that cigarette, think.
-D