This is part of Portrait of a Mother hosted by ParentBloggers.com.

This is precious.  My mom and I never got along very well when I was young (the product of a daddy's girl, I was a devil).  She has always been rock solid for me though, I knew no matter what happened, I could go home to my mom.  And, trust me, there were a few times that I was embarrassed to call her and ask to come home, but I knew I could, just had to get over the ego.  She is sick now.  I haven't emailed anyone about it as for some reason, writing it down has made it so much more real.  However, the time has come for me to face reality.  The prognosis is not good. 

How it all happened.  She had endometrial cancer last summer, soon after a hysterectomy that included removing the lymph nodes in her pelvis, the cancer returned. She had radiation for six weeks.  Never missed a day of work the entire six weeks.  They didn't treat her with chemotherapy because that doctor felt sure the cancer was contained.  He was wrong.  Less than 6 months after her last radiation treatment, we found out she has endometrial cancer in her lungs.  The diagnosis was four large tumors of endometrial cancer in her lungs with small spots peppered all over her right lung. The fluid was building up fast and it too is malignant.  After a pet scan, we learned that the cancer is now spread in her pelvis even further and has now managed to spread to her adrenal gland.

For now, there is no cure, the chemotherapy that will all know is so hard on the body, can only hope to control the cancer so that it doesn't spread.  She is very weak, losing her appetite and is using oxygen a lot of the day and all night.  She starts treatments on Monday.  The plan is to have one treatment every three weeks.  After four treatments (or 12 weeks), she will have another pet scan to re-evaluate the situation.

I'm doing my best to spend as much time with her as possible.  She keeps telling me she doesn't need a baby sitter and for me to get on about running the daycare and taking care of the boys.  Sometime this week a member of our family who is too outspoken for our liking made the statement that she "wouldn't have the chemotherapy". Mom's response to that was this:  "You don't know until it’s you, what you will do.  If it were you and you took one look at those two little boys right there, you would know that there was only one decision to make.  The happiest times of my life right now are when those boys are here."

Now, if that's not enough to make you feel like you need to just pack your things and move in with her, nothing ever will.  Of course, that's not an option right now, but I'm not saying it won't happen.  Mom has a lot of support and says that she is not afraid.  Yet, when she is really weak and having a bad day, she wants to hold my hand.  I can't keep her from being afraid, after all, she is the mommy, she is suppose to keep me from being afraid, right?  But, as the two of us lay in her bed yesterday after an afternoon nap, holding hands, just talking about stuff, I felt, for one fleeing moment, like the mommy. 

I have no clue how to nurse an adult.  I have no clue how to figure out what she needs most at any given moment.  I have no idea how to make decisions for her.  To be honest, I don't know if I ever will.

*Photos were taken from an email that I received.  I have no idea who gets the credit for them, but whoever it is, here's to you.