a brief walk

Dad and I took Mom for a walk this evening, having failed in our attempt to take her to Tysons Corner. The parking lot of the mall was jam-packed with cars when we got there; traffic cones and traffic guards abounded, and after crawling along the access road for several minutes, we decided to go back home: the effort simply wasn't worth it.

Mom's walk was short, but we were happy that she was able to walk any distance at all. We walked partway up the street, passing three or four houses, then turned around, walked back home, slowly made our way up our inclined driveway, and finally took Mom up the wheelchair ramp to our back door. I was impressed that Mom didn't falter at all during the uphill portion of the walk; in her state, both the driveway and the wheelchair ramp can be a challenge. I was chagrined, however, to note that Mom was back to compulsively squeezing my hand as we walked: she used to do this months ago, when she seemed to have less motor control because of brain swelling. As I wrote before, the clinical signs we've been seeing lately don't add up to a coherent picture.

Mom's been sitting quietly in the living room; soon, it'll be time for her to sleep. All in all, today was a better day than yesterday for her, in part thanks to the visit we received from Mr. and Mrs. James, who spent time talking with Mom and us guys, and also gave us a lovely jar of strawberry rhubarb preserves.

Tomorrow, we've got nothing on the calendar, but the coming week promises to be very busy, especially for Dad.

Monday (11/30): Mom has an appointment to see Dr. Meister, the medical oncologist managing her Avastin and carboplatin regimens, for a checkup.

Tuesday (12/1): Dad's off to a Northwest Airlines "good-bye" party, sort of a last hurrah before Northwest is completely absorbed by Delta Airlines.

Wednesday (12/2): Mom visits Ulta (cosmetics store) for a preliminary evaluation before her free makeover later in the month.

Thursday (12/3): Mom's goes to Prosperity Medical Center for both Avastin and carboplatin infusions. This will take up a huge chunk of the day.

Friday (12/4): Pastor Jeri will be visiting.

The following week is the week we go to New York to see about this newfangled experimental treatment at New York Presbyterian/Weill-Cornell. My brother David says he might be able to join us, but I don't know whether Sean can.

Much to do, much to plan, much to prepare. Life is never boring.


UPDATE: When Dad and I helped Mom off the couch for the night, I hugged Mom and said, "I love you." Tonight, she whispered "I love you" in return, and gave me a beautiful smile to boot.


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