Friday, December 11, 2009

flashback, part I

Mom's 40th day is coming soon. I'm ready to tell the story now.  

******

When I went back home on the last week of August, I didn't know nor had even the faintest hint that it would be the last time I'd see my mother as I knew her all my life. 

I didn't know anything. 

My mom was diagnosed with cervical cancer in February and she chose to keep her battle with it a secret to everyone except my dad. She had a total hysterectomy last May after several sessions of chemotherapy, radiotherapy and brachytherapy (internal radiotherapy), and was then declared cured. According to her journal entries which I would read days after she passed, she was praying for and looking forward to a healthy, wealthy and happy life with us, her family. Mom was grateful.

No one knew she only had six months to live.

When I came back here for a week-long vacation last August, she was her cheerful, enthusiastic self. Mommy was so full of life no one would think she won over cancer just a few months back. She cooked for us, cleaned the house, and even went with me to the salon when I had my nails done. Everything seemed normal. I went back to Singapore on August 31 and life went on as usual. 

I called home one evening a couple of days after Ondoy just to ask how everyone's doing. Paolo picked up and I asked him to get mom. I waited for a minute or so before she was on the other line. When I asked her why, she told me her back hurts and it's painful to stand straight and walk. I asked if she saw a doctor already and she said yes. The doctor said the pain was due to muscle spasms caused by a re-alignment of the spine. She said she was already taking pain meds and was advised to undergo physical therapy. We had a quick chat then I told her to go back to bed and rest. I prayed she'll feel better soon.

After a few days, I called again to check up on her. I was expecting her to be better by then that's why I was shaken up when I heard her sobbing on the end of the line. She said her back is still very painful and the pain meds aren't working. She feels a bit relieved after her physical therapy session but only for a few hours. After we spoke, I had a nagging feeling that I needed to go home. I slept on it and decided, with B's permission, that I will go home to take care of mom and help her out.

I arrived in the Philippines on October 18. I wasn’t prepared to find her in terrible pain, her usually dyed hair showing streaks of grey, her smiling face replaced with a constant frown, and instead of hearty laughs, she gave out whimpers. When I first got home and saw her, I couldn't accept that my mom was in so much pain. I wasn’t even able to kiss her hello because I was scared. I tried acting normal but I knew I can't go on denying the fact that she’s terribly sick. 

It was extremely difficult to see her in so much pain but if I were to help her, I knew I needed to face the truth. So before I slept that night, I cried then prayed for strength. I asked God to work through me so I can help my mom and my family.

The following day, dad took mom to the hospital. We decided it would be better if she's confined and could get her nutrients intravenously. Before they left, I was able to give her a bath, helped her put on her clothes, combed her hair and tied it up in a pony tail. It felt good being able to take care of her. 

When we visited her that evening at the hospital, she was feeling better. She had color on her cheeks again and was smiling! The doctor gave her Oxycontin, an opioid and a very powerful drug to control the pain. I was optimistic. I didn't know then that Oxycontin was used to treat cancer pain.

Mom had her MRI that Thursday at Calamba. When they returned to San Pablo, she manifested other symptoms: her left leg and feet were swollen and she was having a hard time controlling her urine. The doctors didn't tell us anything except that we have to wait for the MRI results.

It was Saturday morning when the ob-oncologist came in and said my mom needed to undergo chemotherapy. We were shocked and confused. My mom - because she thought the cancer was gone, and me, because I didn't know she had cancer in the first place. The doctor said the MRI showed black spots on the marrow on my mom's lumbar spine (where the pain was) and she had tumors close to major arteries. She said doing a biopsy would be too costly and risky and can only be done in Manila. The best next step, she said, was chemotherapy. Mom told the doctor she'll think about it.

When the doctor left, my mom cried and told me and Miko (who was also there at that time) the whole truth about her diagnosis and three-month battle with cervical cancer. She said she was scared but she still managed a smile. We all managed to smile, not knowing what were ahead of us.