Tuesday, June 3, 2008

PostScript

Since the seizure, Mom still has difficulty with the left side but it resembles more the conditions before seizure than after. The one difference is that she can no longer shuffle her feet—only inches on a good day; she still converses in short sentences and yes’s and no’s (which is an improvement to nothing at all...in fact, it's been some time since she's spoken in sentences, so we are back to normal in that regard); she easily loses her “place” in thought and will space out; we are still lost somewhere between 1965 and 1968, I believe; and she’s taken to stirring her straw and drink aimlessly as if caught in a rhythmic fixation.

Her right hand has to be busy now, and frequently reaches towards her cup to begin incessant, almost compulsive stirring or tapping. She stirs and stirs, losing sight of her dinner, conversation, whatever other task she was attending to. Another rarity happened earlier today when she signed her name and then kept scribbling with a small smile on her face as if locked in another fixation. Another occasion, seemingly out of the blue, her hand slowly inched over to a soda pop bottle of mine, grabbed it, pulled it toward her and began unscrewing it. When we placed the bottle further from her as we prepared her own drink, she slowly inched toward it again. I'm not sure if she was entirely aware of what she was doing. Cute, funny, and a little sad all at once. And, two nights ago, as I gave hugs and said my goodbyes for the evening as I prepared to take Craig home, her left hand grabbed hold of my fleece pocket, her right locked onto my hand. We asked her if she saw what her left hand was doing and she said yes but could not release it. Interesting.

Immediately following her seizure and to a large extent now, requests, commands, even conversing normally require us standing on her right side. Otherwise, if standing on the left, she won’t respond as readily. And, taking her chemo pills has become the proverbial NIGHTMARE. She massacred her tongue during the seizure, leaving a bloody, sore and swollen obstacle in her mouth. This, along with still confused synapses and general inability to throw back pills has made each pill popping moment one of fierce coaching, frequent water pushing, and the occasional finger sweep to make sure it went down. Each pill takes several attempts with her holding the softening pill in her cheeks or on her tongue. We mix the pills we can crush in applesauce, and leave the pill battle for her many chemo pills. It's hit or miss whether it will be a smooth process or a battle.

As an aside--There is something different about tumor seizures and seizure disorders—a unique fear of not knowing whether the tumor has progressed just enough to block vital functions to create a deal-breaking moment, a moment of "could this be it?", a moment one might not rebound from at all or at least not in 'full' condition. This was the fear we had on Thursday, a fear of the unknown. It’s not like a seizure disorder where there’s a probability of a seizure, a sense of preparation for its occurrence and an expectation that one is otherwise healthy and will recover. The doctors even confirmed these details and assured us that she would not suffer any neurologic limitations from the seizure. Maybe true, but the greater concern is the cause of the seizure. A UTI? Mix of medications? Tumor bulk? Regardless the source, for Mom, it was another terrifying detail to her tumor process, and one that has definitely left her in a marginally weakened or worsened state than before despite the doctors assurances otherwise.

Still, today was better than yesterday which was better than the day before, and we applaud her tenacity and grit for that progression. Why she never auditioned for ultimate fighter, I don't know. If she passed on even an ounce of her strength to the kiddos, we'd do just fine.

There is indeed an improving trend (towards pre-seizure conditions) and her 'essence' seems to have returned (for the most part). She's still goofy, she's still sassy, and she's tracking conversations much better, but you can't escape knowing that she was impacted by the seizure and its related causes, and that we have a "new normal". We are working hard to stave off and perhaps transcend the symptoms of her brain tumor, including doing physical therapy and (hopefully) occupational therapy. Whatever the case, she is hell-bent and determined to persevere and so are we, taking each day as they come. ~E

No comments:

Post a Comment