30,000 feet above the ground

I'm on a flight to Denver, CO as I type this. I'll be landing in an hour or so, and driving to a hotel for the night and early tomorrow, I'll have to attend a conference where I'll be giving a presentation on my company's products. And later tomorrow, I'll get on another plane, to be home by late evening.

I can't help but sit here and think about the events of the past week. My mom's fluid accumulation (ascites) is only getting worse, and the new chemotherapy hasn't seemed to help, as it was only a week and a half before she accumulated 12 pounds of fluid.

The toughest part of taking care of my mom, is she's so stoic and independent that she won't tell you when something's wrong, and she'll still do everything for herself, instead of asking for help. So it was again late last week. She asked Marie to let me know on Saturday that she wanted to go to the emergency room to get a paracentesis, after I was unable to reach her doctor on Friday to schedule one for this past Monday. Apparently her condition was a lot worse than she let on. It wasn't until we were sitting in the emergency room on Saturday night that she told me just the day before she had trouble talking because she was so weak, and couldn't finish a phone conversation with my aunt in New Jersey.

At the emergency room, they declined to do the paracentesis immediately because my mom's blood tests showed that she was anemic. So anemic, that they asked to admit her overnight and give her a blood transfusion. The doctors said that they would do a paracentesis after the blood transfusion assuming her blood tests returned to normal.

So my mom spent Saturday night at the hospital getting 2 units of blood transfused. The whole procedure took 5 hours and they did it overnight between midnight and 5:30 am.

During the time we waited in the emergency room, I told my mother that while I was cleaning my office I came across a card that my grandmother (my dad's mother) had written me when I was a child. The card was in English which surprised me, as I recalled that my grandmother did not speak or write English. My mother agreed and we decided it was my grandfather who wrote the card, signing it from my grandmother. It also recalled to me the audio recording I have from when I was about 5 and my sister Marie was just born. It was an audio tape that my father had made for my grandmother. An audio letter, with Marie gurgling, my older sister and I singing and talking to our "Nai-nai". My mother reminded me that my grandmother didn't know how to read or write Chinese, and that my grandfather had to teach her, so she could at least read rudimentary Chinese.

I'm not sure how our discussion progressed to it, but somehow we got to talking about the flight my mom took with my older sister and I to come to the U.S. My mom recalled again how poor we were, that she had only $162 in US Currency with her that my grandfather had given her. My grandfather had to borrow to get that much to give her to have for the flight over, and of course all of our plane tickets were charged on credit. My mom reminisced again about how she had to worry about money her whole life, and it wasn't until after my dad passed away that she stopped worrying about money. I sat there and re-assured her that she didn't have to worry about money, and she said she knew that, that my dad's retirement account had finally given her some security in that department, which is why she felt free to spend money on her grandkids, and take trips to Vegas. I also reminded her that because of her and my dad, her three kids really didn't need to worry about money either, that all of us were financially secure.

I finally left my mom close to 11PM on Saturday, and returned to the hospital early Sunday morning around 8:30AM. When I got there, they had already completed the blood transfusion. The doctor stopped by a little later to let us know that they were planning on doing the paracentesis that morning and that they would discharge my mom if her blood tests came back without any problems. My mom was discharged by early afternoon on Sunday.

Fast forward to today, and getting ready to leave for this flight to Denver. I stopped by home on the way to the airport this afternoon, only to find that my mom had stepped out. As I was getting ready to leave the house to go to the airport she pulled up in her car. She got out and nearly stumbled to the front door. I asked her what was wrong, and of course she had exhausted herself by going out shopping. I told her that she didn't need to do that but she insisted she needed to get stuff to give her brother's family for all the food they had brought her. I told her it was okay for them to do that, as she was the one that was in the hospital, and for once she should let other people take care of her, but I don't think that concept is one she understands. I made her go in and rest, and of course I had to rush to the airport.

At the airport, I called home and got to talk to Lauren who had just gotten home from daycare. We had a complete conversation, which was unsual, as she usually gets distracted when she's talking to someone on the phone. She told me how her day was, and she even asked me to bring her back something when I get home tomorrow.