The Scar It Left

3 years ago, I was faced with fear.
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To best describe it, I thought I was well into accepting the reality. But as I look back on all of it now, I somehow regret it. Why didn't I just remain true to what I truly felt? Maybe I contributed to her being so discouraged? Just looking at her made me want to fully acknowledge the fact that that was it, that the end of the line had come. Because so many people also told me to do so. But deep down inside, even in her worst condition, I was still wishing that she would get up, cancer free and live a normal life.
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She left on a Sunday morning.
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I said she was in peace. I knew she was no longer suffering.
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Today more than ever, I miss her.
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Why did cancer choose her? It chooses no one.

In Time...Maybe Just Not This Year

It's Mother's Day in 4 days and I don't know how am going to take it again this year.
5 years ago, I was too excited to celebrate Mother's Day. It was my first time to celebrate it as a new mommy AND I was celebrating it for the first time as a mom with my Mom. This will be my 2nd Mother's Day without my Mom to celebrate it. But it will also be my 1st time to celebrate it with my 3 boys (my kids and the hubby).
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I still look for her everyday. I haven't really moved on but I know it's OK.
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Dash took his very first 5 steps last night and I was just wishing so bad that Mom and Dad were there to have seen him! Dash would have just knocked them out!

On Finally Finding Closure

If you notice on my side bar, I put links of "Cancer Warriors." People who have battled or are battling cancer. Although I am not a cancer warrior, I feel a certain connection to cancer warriors as well as to care takers of cancer warriors since 2 years ago, I too took care of a cancer warrior - My Mom. And so every now and then, I visit their blogs, excited to read what has been the latest updates on their battle. And it saddens me when I read prognosis' that seem grim. And I admire these warriors - their determination to fight this battle, the strength they carry knowing that they will never really know what to expect the next day.
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I can only speak for myself. But I remember, when my Mom told me she had cancer, for the first time in my life 'uncertainty' just felt too real. Too real that I was scared to sleep. What would happen tomorrow? I didn't want tomorrow to arrive because I did not know what tomorrow would bring. I did not know what the 'next steps' were.
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When finally Mom began chemotherapy, 'hope' started to paint itself in my heart. So many people encouraged us, showed so much support, gave financial support. Suddenly, I could not Wait for tomorrow. In my mind, the battle was finished. The cancer cells would disappear and Mom would finish the battle. She would see me grow into a young woman. She would enjoy her grandchildren until a good old age.
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When Mom had her CT-scan after her 6th chemo cycle, scans yielded very good results. From a tumor the size of a golf ball, only .3 mm was left. Praise God! Good riddance tumor! But she had to go for an additional 45 radiation sessions to make sure whatever was left of tumor completely disappears. And then it hit me, I was reminded that remission takes 5 years before you are declared cancer free. How do you live those 5 years of waiting? In fear? Hopeful? Indifferent? What if the cancer returned? I could no longer imagine re-living the whole cancer thing again.
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I guess I went ahead of what was actually happening. More than half way through Mom's radiation treatment, she got sick. They could not quite pin point if it was Tuberculosis or Pneumonia. Since she had to stop her radiation treatment in the meantime, they decided to do another CT-scan. Results were not good. The remaining tumor did not shrink at all and just remained the same.
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Instead of fighting it out, Mom became very depressed. She no longer saw the sense in finishing the battle. That's how I saw it.
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Her pneumonia worsened. Just sitting up from her hospital bed was too tiring for her. I would cry when she would be asleep. I would silently cry out and ask why He was doing this to Mom. To me.
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One day, in the hospital, in between gasps for breath, Mom asked me if I would be okay if she left already. And in between my tears, I assured her not to worry.
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I asked myself, why was I pretending to be tough?
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Her last week in the ICU was the worst. At this point I don't think I am ready to write about it yet.
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She decided to leave without me being by her side. Thanks Mom, I don't think I would ever get over it if I were by your bedside.
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How does one truly move on? Where do I start?

Their Love Story

Found this picture of Mom and Dad, circa 1970's.

(all hippie and flower power-ish)

Mom's dad, my lolo (grandpa) was a doctor and Mom's mom, my lola (grandma) was a pharmacist. My lolo had his own clinic and my lola had her small pharmacy at the bottom of Session Road, the main commercial road in Baguio City.

Dad's dad, my gramps (as I always called him), was a lawyer and writer/journalist and Dad's mom, my gramma, was a social worker.

Both families were old timers of Baguio City and both families knew each other very well. Mom and her siblings went to a private catholic school for elementary while Dad and his siblings went to a public school. Come high school, Mom and Dad went to the same school. Funny thing is the siblings of Mom and Dad were batch mates and ended up being classmates in high school.

When Dad was younger, he used to sell newspaper and shine the shoes of my lolo. Little did my Dad know that Lolo would be his father-in-law in the future.

Mom and Dad were high school classmates. According to my Mom, she had the hugest crush on Dad for the longest time but Dad being his quiet, reserved self, never paid much attention to Mom. Come college, Mom studied in Baguio while Dad went on to study in Manila. During the semestral break, Mom would ask their family driver to drive past the Hamada residence along Kisad Road in the hope of catching a glimpse of Dad. There were times that they would drive past Dad's family house without a sign of Dad anywhere but there would be times when Dad would be standing in the driveway. Mom said that when this would happen, she would hide in the backseat and carefully peep out the window trying her best to hide from Dad but still catch a glimpse of him. (Geez)

So anyway, finally, after having their own girlfriends and boyfriends and after the longest courtship in the world, Mom and Dad tied the know when they were 33 and 32 years old respectively.

Mom and Dad loved each other so much. They would fight yes, but they loved each other. Mom meant the world to my Dad and Dad stood as Mom's strength.

Mom had 3 pregnancies. One before me but she miscarried when she was only a few weeks on the way. Then she had me. She had to be on complete bed rest when she was carrying me. And then she had one more after me. I was 4 years old then I think. But she miscarried again.

I admire the relationship Mom and Dad shared. They made decisions together. The argued about a lot of things. Although never said, they taught me the value of keeping the marriage sacred.

I remember what Dad told Jet one time : "Jet. this is what my Dad always tole me, the most painful thing to see is to see a woman cry."

One of Mom's last wishes was that she be cremated and a part of her ashes be out "right on top of Steve's heart." Dad was buried at our family plot.

Their story is one I hold in my heart dearly and will share with my boys as they grow up.

Chemotherapy : The 1st Cycle

When Dr. Heavensent left the room, Mom and I sat in silence. I really didn't know what to say OR I'm sure I had a lot to say but I just didn't know if I should even say anything -- ever got that feeling? So anyway, we sat in silence. We didn't even ask Dr. Heavensent when they would start her first cycle of chemotherapy.

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At this point, I had NO IDEA what chemotherapy was all about. All I knew about it was it made my Lolo (Grandpa) bald and I was terrified by it. I was 4 years old when Lolo was battling his brain cancer. And my Mom and I would travel down to Manila on weekends to visit him in the hospital and I would not be allowed inside the hospital because I was too young, so when my Mom would go in, either one of my Aunts or Uncles would have to wait with me outside the hospital.

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We tried to go about the day as normal as possible. Pretending to watch re-runs of FRIENDS, read the papers, I even went to the cafe to grab some pastries, pasta and frapps for us to snack on. On my way up, I passed by this magazine stand and saw a magazine titled "The BIG C." I browsed thru it and saw that it had a lot of information regarding cancer, how it develops, the different treatments, articles on caregivers of cancer patients, etc. I decided to buy the magazine and I excitedly proceeded back to Mom's room. When I opened the door, I enthusiastically told Mom about the magazine and she excitedly flipped thru the pages of the magazine. Me, being too excited got the magazine from her and started reading page by page. In between my reading, I would read out loud some interesting cancer fact. Later on, after reading thru the magazine, I told Mom to read it too as it contained a lot of helpful information. And then that's when my Mom said "I don't want to." And I was like, why? It has a lot of interesting facts blah blah. And she just said " Because it makes me scared." I was being insensitive.

Later that night, I was lying on Mom's hospital bed and she was sitting on the chair, the nurse came in and informed Mom that she will have to start taking a couple more medicines. And we both asked the nurse what that was for. The nurse told us that it is a drug that will help decrease the nauseating feeling after chemotherapy. GREAT. Just what we wanted to hear. So I told the nurse that we were not yet informed about the start of the treatment and that we would want to hear all the details first before anything else. Yes I kinda snapped at the nurse, I guess I was already panicking by this time. After a few minutes, Mom's team of doctors came to our room. They were very apologetic about catching us off guard and they were sorry that they failed to talk to us first. So yeah. Mom and I asked all possible questions, like : When will the first chemotherapy session be? How will it be administered? How long will it take? What will she feel while having her chemo? What will be the arrangements for succeeding chemo sessions? What are the side effects? Will there be a restriction on her diet? Of course, I just had to ask this: When will her hair fall off? Gawd I don't know why but I was so worried about her hair falling off.

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So Dr. Bello (assistant of Dr. Heavensent) tried to answer all our questions. He is a very uptight man by the way, Mom and I just loved teasing him and joking him all the time. It drove us nuts just seeing him so tense and serious. So anyway, Dr. Bello said Mom will be having her first out of six chemo sessions the next day, it will be administered by IV and will take approximately 3-4 hours. There is no pain felt during the chemo itself, it'll just be like a normal IV dripping into your system. For the next chemo sessions, it will be possible for Mom to have her chemo in the ambulatory section, that is, she can come to the hospital and then leave right after her chemo session. Possible side effects would be loss of appetite, nausea, mouth sores, fatigue. There will be no restriction on her diet. As for the falling off of her hair, it will depend. Sometimes it falls off sometimes it doesn't. Dr. Bello also gave a brief background of the drugs that would be used. I pretended to understand it.

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So OK that was settled. First chemotherapy tomorrow.

As soon as Dr. Bello left the room, I told Mom that everything would be OK. And then we started to send text messages to all our relatives and friends asking for prayers. Mom then popped in the medicine the nurses gave her. I took this as a sign that she was ready for her chemo. In a way I guess. I told myself that I had to be ready too.

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I'm not sure if I was able to sleep well that night but I remember waking up early the next day. Mom and I had our breakfast and then I told her that it would be good if I washed her up early so that she would be ready early enough. So I washed her hair and gave her a sponge bath (since there was still an IV connected to her, a real bath wasn't possible yet and her wound from the tube inserted in her lung was still a bit fresh). After that, I took a bath and got ready. Today was the big day. While I was in the bathroom, so many thoughts were running thru my mind. I started to think about how things would have been if my Dad were still alive. Would my Dad be able to take all this stress and tension? Would he be able to stomach sitting in the hospital room watching Mom like this? Or would he have decided to just stay home and drown his sorrows in alcohol? Was it bad for me to be thinking that I thought it better that Dad "went ahead" so that he would not have to experience this?

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My Aunt then arrived. After a few minutes, my cousin came. Plus one of my Mom's friends, we called ourselves the hospital brigade. We would all be together in the hospital everyday since my Mom's confinement. Together we would laugh, drink coffee, read magazines and take pictures. We would have a party almost everyday. That was until Mom's first chemo session. We were all pretending it to be a normal "hospital" day but in truth and in fact we were all f**ki*ng scared. I slipped out of the room for a while and just let my tears fall. Man, what was this all about?

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When I got back in, Mom was already laying on the bed under her comfy blankies, holding her Bible. A few minutes after, Dr. Heavensent arrived, being her bubbly encouraging self, she sat beside Mom and held Mom's hand. "Mommy everything will be fine. We are going to make you well. The medicines will remove that ball in your lung don't worry, okay? And I will be checking in on you every 30minutes. Do not worry, relax. The Lord is in control." Mom just smiled. And the Dr. Heavensent sent for the nurses to prepare the taxotere and cisplatin. Here we go.

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The nurses came in with 2 glass bottles, they were not too big. The first one they were to administer would be the taxotere and then the cisplatin. One of the bottles had to covered in carbon paper to protect it from being exposed to any form of light, so even Mom's IV tube had to be covered. I know Mom was freaking out by this time because she wasn't saying anything anymore. My Aunt, my cousin and I just sat around Mom. And then the medicines started to drip. Slowly dripping into her body, spreading thru her veins, slowly making its way to her lungs. Every after 5 minutes I would ask Mom how she was feeling and she kept telling me that she didn't feel a thing, it felt like a normal IV medicine entering her body. The nurses would come in every now and then to ask her how she was doing. Dr. Heavensent came in and even sat with us for a good 1 hour. We told stories and asked questions about her. I so love that lady. And then Dr. Heavensent "Look Mommy, you're almost done with your 1st bottle, see how fast?" Dr. Heavensent left and said that she would be back.

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After a while, I sensed Mom to be relaxed already as she asked me to page Dr. Heavensent and ask if she could drink coffee. And then we all realized that since we were all so nervous, sacred and worried, everyone forgot about lunch. A lot more relaxed by this time, Mom asked me to go buy lunch. She sat up and said, "We might as well have a party." Party it is. I left the hospital and ran to take out some food. I returned with roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, macaroni salad and brownies.

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In no time, both IV bottles were empty.

Happy Birthday Ma!

Lourdes A. Hamada

January 7, 1948 - October 23, 2005

Yesterday would have been Mom's 59th birthday. This picture was taken sometime in May of 2005 when we took a short trip to Batangas on a weekend when I went down to visit Mom in Manila. Mom had already undergone her 3rd chemo session when this picture was taken.

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* This is a continuation of Mom's cancer battle as told by me in my efforts to also release some of my angst,pain,hurt and anger in the hope of helping myself come to terms with the death of both my mom and dad. (all other entries of my Mom's story can be read under "In Memory of Mom" category).

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Once Mom was settled in the hospital, they started to run tests on her. At that time, Mom's oncologist was still in China reading a paper in one of the doctor's conventions there so Mom's 1st cousin, who happens to be a surgeon, took on her case while waiting for her onco. X-ray results showed that the tube in her lung was dislodged and would require a reinsertion procedure. Mom was scared as hell, so was I. She was scheduled for a minor operation the next day. I just kept reminding Mom that she would be ok. Reinserting the tube was a needed procedure before they could take out the tube and perform this procedure called pleurodisis, a procedure that causes the membranes around the lung to stick together and prevents the build up of fluid in the space between the membranes. This procedure is done in cases of severe recurrent pleural effusion (fluid around the lungs), as from cancer, to prevent the reaccumulation of fluid (http://www.medterms.com/script/main/art.asp?articlekey=20053). Before we left our hometown in Baguio, Dr. Nonsense also told me that "we will never be able to remove the tube.she will die with the tube still inserted." (I hate that doctor --I sooo hate her). The reinsertion proceeded as planned the next day. Mom was wheeled back into her room after about 3 hours. The doctor also advised Mom to practice coughing at least 3x a day in order to hasten the draining process. By this time, Mom had already been in the hospital for a couple of days. The real cool thing about Mom was that she didn't look sick at all. If someone who didn't know her saw her, they would never have believed that she was battling stage IIIb lung cancer.

Towards the end of the week, Mom's oncologist finally arrived from China and dropped by the room. She was a petite lady with an extremely bubbly personality. Once she entered the room, I immediately felt so comfortable with her. She took Mom's hand and said "Things will be ok Mommy." I cried, Mom cried. So Dr. Heavensent told us that she read Mom's clinical abstract and that we should all start working to get Mom well. My spirits were so high that day, I can still remember that feeling. That day, we were surrounded by a team of doctors who I will forever be thankful for, for they made Mom's last months on earth as comfortable as possible.

The days that followed were full of doctors and nurses hustling and bustling in and out of Mom's hospital room. We got to befriend a couple of nurses as well as other cancer patients. After almost a week, Mom and I got pretty comfortable with the "living situation." Mom's room would be our "home" for the next 3 1/2 weeks. Jet and Josh were left in Baguio, our hometown as Jet had work and Josh would not be allowed inside the hospital. During Jet's day off, they would drive down to Manila to visit me and Mom.

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The first few days were rather uneventful as Mom could only sit and lay down although very cautiously so as not to dislodge the tube to avoid another reinsertion. Mom had no restrictions on her diet so we enjoyed all the food her visitors would bring her, at night when all visitors would leave, we would order coffee from the caf while watching TV. On our second week, Moms pulmonologist noticed that there weren't any more fluids draining out of mom's lungs and it looked like Mom was ready for pleurodesis. Agian, this freaked Mom out. My Mom is a very intense worrier --really. She can stress herself out worrying about what to cook for dinner or how she looks without her earrings on. So this pleurodesis thing really freaked her out. Shortly after her pulmonologist said that she would be performing the procedure in a short bit, Mom's blood pressure shot up, she started feeling nauseous and wanted to throw up. I held her hand and told her that things will be fine, that this is a good thing because right after the pleurodesis, they would be able to pull out the tube from her lungs already. Ok - so she still wasn't convinved. She wanted to delay the procedure. Her pulmonologist and I decided that it would be a good idea to put Mom on a light sedative so that Mom could fall asleep while they performed whatever they had to perform. So there, after a couple of hours, Mom wakes up with the tube gone. Much better.

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The next days were fun. Each morning, Mom and I would walk around the Cancer Institute of the hospital as her doctors advised her that it would be good enough excercise for her. At this point, we knew that chemotherapy would be next on the list, only none of us wanted to talk about it. At this point, Mom tells me "Cancer isn't such a terrible thing after all. Look at this, we cancer warriors even have our own institute." We would spend late nights laughing, reading magazines, eating our hearts out and we would sleep till lunch the next day.

I do not remember exactly when Dr. Heavensent came in and asked us to sit down because she needed to discuss Mom's next step in her treatment. All I can remember was my heart was beating really really fast, I was nervous and anxious, not wanting to hear what I needed to hear. I looked at Mom and saw the uncertainty in her face. Dr. Heavensent discussed with us that Mom's tumor was about the size of a goldball and it was a non-small cell adenocarcinoma. The thing with these types of tumors is that although they grow and develop very slowly, they are one of the hardest to shrink. Surgery would be too dangerous at this point considering Mom's age and the size of the tumor. Dr. Heavensent informed us that Mom's chemo treatment would involve the use of Cisplatin and Taxotere. God at this point, my head was spinning like crazy but I had to keep a hold of myself and show Mom that we would battle this together.

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*** Cancer runs in our family. My gradfather (mom's dad) died of the complications of brain cancer, Mom's Aunt died of stomach cancer, Mom's other Aunt is battling stomach cancer adn my cousin is being observed for the tumor in her left lung.

The One When She Found Out

Mom was a smoker for 41 years of her life. But she excercised also most of her life. When she was in her early 30's, she got into aerobics, working out almost everyday and then later on transitioned into taebo. There were times when I would try working out with her and boy did she surprise me when I would have to take a water break and she didn't have to.
Come mid February of 2005, during one of their planning session seminars in one of the seminaries here in Baguio, Mom noticed that she had a very hard time walking up a very steep hill. She tried not to pay attention to this. But the week after, while walking in the mall, she had to stop several times to catch her breath. I'm sure Mom knew that something was wrong but she tried to ignore it. But that same day, during one of her stops to catch her breath, she bumped into one of her former students who happened to be a pulmonologist. Dr. S asked Mom what was wrong and she explained to him what she was feeling. Hearing this, Dr. S advised Mom to have an x-ray ultrasound of her lungs. Although reluctant, Mom went. Results were not good. Half of her left lung was almost not visible since it was filled with fluid and her right lung wasn't visible at all anymore. Dr. S scheduled Mom to be confined so that she could be aspirated.
Mom checked in the next day and the procedure went well. Dr. S was able to aspirate around 2 1/2 litres of fluid from Mom's lungs. Fluid was very yellow. Biopsy results would be out in 7 days.
Mom checked out the next day, according to her she was already feeling much better. Also, by this time Mom was already 48 hours smoke free -- nicotine free.
Later during that week, I had to go down to Manila to attend a meeting at our main office headquarters. Hubby accopmanied me. I got a call from Mom saying that they will have to do another aspiration to try and remove the remaining fluids. I asked her when she was going to check in and she said that she was going to wait for me. I got home after 2 days and was surprised that my Aunt met us at the gate saying that Josh was sleeping with her downsatirs because our househelp was with Mom in the hospital. I wasn't sure what was happening anymore.
I rushed inside the house and called Mom on her cellphone. I wanted to know why she checked in and why she didn't tell me. And then she said it -- "Lou, It's cancer."
SHIT now Im crying.
What?! Lou it's cancer. I have lung cancer. Stage IIIb. That night I cried myself to sleep.
The next day, I know I had to go to the hospital, but I was scared to see Mom. I called up my Aunts (sisters of my Mom) and cried to them. I cried out to the Lord and demanded from Him why He was doing this to us.
I went to the office and told my boss. I cried.
Fianlly, I went to the hospital. When I saw Mom, I ran to her and burried my head in her arms. I cried. She cried.
A tube was inserted to her lungs to drain the remaining fluid. She was to undergo chemotherapy. 6 cycles.
I got to talk to her oncologist, let me call her Dr. Nonsense. I asked her what the prognosis was. And she asnwered me by saying : " With chemo, she'll live for 6 months, without chemo, in 3 months she'll be dead." Pain turned into anger. Is this the doctor we are going to entrust my Mom's remaining days with? NO WAY.
I called up my Aunt in Manila. I said I want to bring Mom down to Manila for treatment in the best hospital only by the best doctor. My Aunt said she'd call me back with the final arrangements. She said that I made the right decision. I went back to see Mom and I told her that we were bringing her down. She said it would be too expensive. I said I didn't care. I told her to relax, to just let me fix all the necessary last minute arrangements and to trust that the Lord would carry us through. Later that afternoon, my Aunt called, all was ready at St.Luke's hospital and that she also founf a Christian oncologist who was more than willing to take care of Mom all I needed to do now was to make arrangements with the ambulance. I informed the nurses that we would be checking Mom out at 6am the next day because we would be bringing her down to Manila.
6am, the amulatory staff nurses came to pick Mom up. I was ready by 5. I sat in front, Mom was laying down at the back. I had my Bible and a slice of banana bread. I couldn't eat. My last meal was 2 days ago.
We arrived in Manila and went straight to the ER before Mom was admitted. My Aunt and cousin were there to meet us. Finally, after about an hour, Mom was finally wheeled in to her room. Then my Aunts from the States called up. We all broke down and hugged each other.
But I felt safe. I knew my Mom was in good hands.

January 7, 1948 - October 23, 2005

I know I need to get this out.

Mom was a smoker. She lit her first cigarette when she was 16 years old. I once asked her how and why she ever started smoking. She said that when she was 16, she was part of a foreign exchange student program. She was sent to Connecticut in 1963 and there she lived for a year. For the first time, she was free. She was exposed to a whole new different culture. According to her, almost all of her friends were into smoking and they all thought that smoking was cool. So she lit her own stick. And she liked it. She never kicked the habbit. She smoked for 41 years only stopping for a year and a couple of months when she got pregnant with me. I asked her, if you were able to quit when I was in your womb, how come you went back to it? She said, she just did.

Although my dad also smoked, my mom was a much heavier smoker. My dad was THE drinker --but that's a whole different story.

I remember when I was a kid, I put up NO SMOKING signs all over the house so that my mom and dad would refrain from smoking inside the house. Growing up, I got used to seeing mom smoke after meals, smoke when she was tense or stressed -- smoke whenever and wherever.

After my dad died in April of 2004, Mom continued smoking. This was her way of relaxing. And then one day, sometime in February 2005, It hit her --she wasn't feeling well anymore.

I miss you Ma...everyday I think of what life would be today if you, me, dad and your grandkids were still all happily living together. I cry -- I still do. I tried to tell myself that things would get better , that I would eventually learn to move on, learn to live without you...but it is so damn hard.

I miss you...someday we will be together again. We will laugh and tell stories just like the old times.

God I miss my mom.