Wednesday, August 15, 2012

It was like someone flipped a switch.  Ten minutes away from our camp Mum just woke up and was her again.  On Thursday and Friday she got more information and her hope returned.  She said she would kick this cancer or die trying.  We got to camp and she and my Aunt Eva both exposed their chemo ports and sang "Who wears port ports?  We wear port ports.  And if you wear port ports, bare those port ports".  The pain isn't completely gone, and the meds make her sleep a lot, but she is joking and playing with her grandkids.  She said to my brother James' girlfriend Katrina, who is reading the 50 Shades of Grey books, that she wasn't sure she had enough energy to be anything more than "45 Shades of Grey."  She had me saranwrap her port which she said was making her breasts almost perky.  And she was all excited about the free wig they were going to give her.  She can't decide if she wants to go really blonde and have dad call her "Ilsa the sex Goddess" or blonde with braids and have him call her "Heidi the milk maid".  I warned dad that if she came home with anything but her naturally black (more salt and pepper now), that she would be a handful.  I asked her why she hadn't gotten an haircut the other day like she planned and she laughed, "Why the hell should I?  In 3 weeks I won't have any hair!" 

In the face of a much worse situation than her last bout with Cancer, she is trying to maintain some normality.  She still doesn't believe that she will survive this.  But she said "I won't let it kill me, it has to fight me".  She is so excited that she can pretty much eat all the carbs she wants and is waiting for the day we let her hit Panera bread for all the white bread she wants.  She said she was planning on going back to walking every day and wants to ride her bike to the hospital to have them remove her chemo pump.  I worry that she will push too hard, but then remember that this chemo is nothing compared to what she had last time and these are the things she did to stay sane last time.  Last time, she still worked every day.  Last time she drove the 3 hours to camp every weekend.  And last time, she won.  I told her I would drive her to camp on my days off.  I told her I would support her decision to return to work if she felt up to it.  I told her I would bake her all the bread she wanted so long as it made her happy. 

Work made her mind focus on something else, it made her feel normal and it kept her active.  If she wants to work, and she thinks she can handle it then I can not stand in her way.  The people she works with are just as much her family as we are.  She needs them just as much as she needs us.  I also told her she could stay home and enjoy her days doing things she likes and watching Grey's Anatomy and Desperate Housewives with dad and me.  Whatever she wants to do is fine with me, so long as she is happy.

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