bad day

We hoped when the Lorazepam finally wore off she'd be better, and she was, this morning, but this afternoon she was having stomach cramps and throwing up. Jerry was taking his daughter to Olympia when the trouble hit and Mom asked me for morphine. I didn't want to give it to her, but she was in so much pain and I didn't know what else to do. Turns out that was a mistake, one I won't make again. The morphine is only for pain in her surgery scar, not for stomach pain, which I didn't know. I'm feeling pretty guilty about that.

Jerry says Easter will probably be too late. I've emailed Robert about wanting to come out here right after Christmas with Kilian, haven't heard back from him yet, but I wonder if that might be too late too. This is really looking pretty bad. She was supposed to do better when I came to visit, because I was going to lift her spirits. She says she's really glad I'm here, so her spirits are lifted, but her health is still sliding.

The Tarceva prescription came in, and we read the flyer, and we're thinking it's not a good idea. There are a lot of really nasty side effects listed (vomit like coffee grounds? Never a good sign), and it sounds like it would be much too hard on an already weak system. We'll talk to the oncologist about it when he calls tomorrow, which he will do because we just heard from the GP today that last week's MRI shows that the cancer in her back has spread.

For the last few days I've been packing up stuff, sorting clothes, books, yarn, fabric, rummaging through papers, consolidating stuff. I'm now realizing that those were good days - I had to stay close to the house, but I could still get a lot done. Today was a bad day, and I just sat by her bed waiting for her to need something. It's a lot harder than sorting and tidying and organizing.