Puritan Rule No 106

Following my first chemo infusion, the first call I made was to my Mother. My Mother has been the primary caretaker for so many people. She managed my Aunt Kit's first and second battles with cancer. The first diagnosis, Kit remained in New York City, so my Mother had to fly down regularly to meet with the doctors at Sloan-Kettering, help with the after-effects of the chemo, make sure Kit's apartment was properly stocked, before heading home to take care of her own family of 4 kids and a husband.

When Kit's cancer metastasized into her spine, she moved into my parent's house. My father rebuilt a first floor room into a bedroom and wheelchair accessible bathroom since by now Kit was confined. I suppose that my Mother arranged to let go of the Manhattan apartment, and move furniture, and whatever else one does when leaving an apartment of over 30 years. This was a long battle, but my Mother did it with an ever-growing support system.

Next was Margaret. A full year of daily medical ups and downs. My Mother was her best friend, her strongest nagger, her advocate and her Mother. This was hard and during it all, my Mother managed to keep her job and continue her undergraduate classes at Wellesley College.

Right after Andrew's death, my Grandmother [my Mother's Mother] was diagnosed with non-Hogkins lymphoma, and so she moved into my parent's house for a few months. Thank goodness my grandmother's insurance covered an in home nurse aid for bathing and other personal hygiene issues. But again, my Mother was the primary caretaker.

And then back to Margaret and her ovarian surgery. My mother made the trip across the country to care for Margaret. In this case, the news was good! The surgery was the treatment. My Mother used all her vacation time, all three weeks, to be there. Her company was so impressed, that they gave her an additional week of vacation time so that she can do some holiday vacationing. An uncommon kindness in today's world.

How can one family have so much of this?

And now we are at me. My Mother is not my primary caretaker, and we are still learning how to do this together. She really sympathizes with Leslie's role, and I believe that her admiration for him has grown expodentially.

So we talk on the phone a fair amount. I am learning to let her know gently when I am getting tired. My Mom's feelings can get hurt very easily.

And so, I was telling my Mom about the first chemo infusion. And then about shopping for the wig and how high I was, and that this made choosing a wig much easier! What did Puritan Mom say?

"Well, you should really tell the nurses that you were high after the first chemo and ask them to reduce the quantity of drugs they give you," she lectured me.

"Why would I do that?" I responded.

Puritan Rule No 106: being high isn't a good thing, even if it is to mask the side effects of chemo. You should always feel some of that pain!

What a hoot! Needless to say, I am not recommending any change in the protocol. I am sitting at an 8, with occasional dips into the 7 category. Why should I screw around with this?