Do you know what it feels like to drown? Not because you don’t know how to swim, but

because no matter how hard you try, you can’t stay above the water? For some reason,

drowning seems to be the only analogy I can come up with as to how I feel at this very

moment. It feels like I am below the surface of the water with the waves just thrashing

above me too hard to allow me to break through into air that I can fill my lungs with. I

feel like I am kicking and thrusting my arms, getting so close to breathing that wonderful

Oxygen, but just getting pulled down farther when I try.

Today I found out that the head radiation treatments my mom went through to fight the lesions

that have spread from her breasts and her liver into her brain did not work. The doctor said she had

a “partial response” to the treatment… but why call it partial when they then proceed

to say that in reality it didn’t really work, and in fact, a few of the lesions look even

bigger?? What happens now, you ask? So now we go through the push and pull with

my mom to try and convince her that the side effects from chemo are worth it… that

constantly feeling tired and sick is worth it… for the slim chance that the “couple” of

chemo drugs that her oncologist said have been known to penetrate the brain (because

chemo usually doesn’t work on the complex organ of the brain) will actually work at

shrinking the tumors that are invading my beautiful mother’s mind… because if that

doesn’t work, then there is nothing left to try…

I know that God has a plan, and my mom seems to be at peace with that, but what if I

don’t like that plan? I am terrified: terrified of not being able to gain all that I need/

want from my mother before she leaves me, terrified what losing my mom will do to my father and my sisters, terrified that I might be next because of the chance that it could be in our genes, and terrified that I haven’t been able to tell her how much I love her often enough.

In the end, I know that it is her decision on treatment- to have or not have it- but I want her to fight…

Maybe that is selfish of me, because I want her to be here for me and know that she will be here for me when Drew and I decide to adopt our children… I want our children to be able to get to know their Nana face-to-face rather than through my own experiences and memories of her. It is selfish, I know, and who’s to say that I wouldn’t want to do the exact same thing she wants to do…not suffer through the chemo (because face it- it sucks) and just say the few days I have will be better than a year on drugs. But even with the knowledge of this, I still want my mother to fight, and damn it, fight hard .

Needless to say, I guess we will find out Monday if our pleas with her to continue

struggling through the chemo sessions worked. My sister, Sarah, and my dad will be

going with her on Monday to talk with the oncologist on how many treatments it would

be, etc.

So in the end I feel all I can do is pray to God- so for today here is my prayer: