Oxygen Masks

The doctors are still conflicted on what exactly happened on Friday.  Was it an extreme reaction to the infusion? Is there pneumonia?  Are the tumors blocking one of the lobes and trapping fluid taking away a good deal of lung function?  A combination, or something else they haven't considered yet?  Either way, we have spent the majority of the weekend in tears attempting to get our ducks in a row as the doctors kept asking about advance directives and breathing tubes.  C and I both thought that this was it, that he wouldn't make it.

Fortunately over the last 48 hours or so, his breathing has gotten easier, and his meds have been changed to go after every possibility.  A new antibiotic to do double duty on the sepsis and pneumonia.  Steroids to reduce the inflammation.  A cough medicine to ease his coughing.  As long as he stays in bed, he is stable and comfortable.  If he gets up or moves around too much, his blood oxygen drops, his pulse races, his breathing gets strained, and usually triggers a coughing fit.  He is on oxygen around the clock with regular breathing treatments.

We have been given a glimmer of hope.  They want to send a sample from his lung biopsy in November to a lab for a molecular study, in the hope that more detailed info could lead to a treatment option that hasn't been considered.  The samples, once sent, will take about two weeks to come back.  I am hoping that this detail, whether through our doctor or NIH, will find a new weapon for us to fight with.

I am asked constantly how I am doing through all of this.  My answers have ranged from "fine" to "scared but hanging in" to incoherent responses of fear and sadness.  I feel like a vase that has been dropped, breaking into hundreds of pieces..... then picked up, taped together with scotch tape and put back on the shelf.  Looking pretty and functional, but at the same time being anything but.   I feel like I am an imposter, like a child putting on grown up clothes in their parent's closet, like I am not equipped to handle all that is being thrown at us at the same time.  I feel like I can hold it together when discussing what is going on, I can use the medical jargon, be concise and specific.... then when asked about the girls and I can't hold it together as easily.

Instead of succumbing to this chaos and breaking all the way, I am attempting to put on my own oxygen mask.  After we got the news last Thursday from C's oncologist, a friend contacted me with a list of programs for caregivers.  One of those programs was "How to Help Your Children Cope with a Parent's Cancer".  I hate admitting I need help, that I can't do it all, that it don't have the right answer to every question..... but C and I decided I need to do this, for myself, for him, for the girls.  I don't blog often about my faith, but I do believe that He provides and is presenting this opportunity, I need to take this lifeline and embrace what comes from it.  It is hard knowing I will be 45min away if something should happen, makes me ill at the thought.  But we are blessed that C's mom has been able to make a trip up here from Texas and will be able to sit with him tonight while I am gone.