A Vision of Beauty

On November 19, our family lost Chris Darrow to cancer. Chris was a highly intelligent animal loving chef and gamer, with a fiance and a little girl eight years old. He was 32. Thank you to all who prayed for Chris and his family. Please continue to pray as his family deals with their loss. We loved Chris and will miss him very much. We hate cancer.

Mom had a rocky weekend. When I arrived Friday night, she was animated and conversant. Saturday morning she greeted me with, "My, don't you look fresh today," which, although conversational, was quite far from reality. I left her for a few minutes and when I returned she was no longer talking. She ate her breakfast in silence, then fell asleep. Bill and Pattie stopped by in the afternoon, and she was unresponsive. We visited while Mom slept. Her silence continued for the rest of the day, until the evening when we changed her nightgown and bedding. She responded to questions a little, then fell asleep again.

Sunday morning I woke up to Mom talking to herself. I said, "Well, good morning!" To which she replied, "When did you get here?" The rest of the morning was full of conversation broken up with brief naps. For both of us.

In the late afternoon before Corey and I left for Grand Rapids, I read to Mom from Peace Like a River and the book of love poems. Mom's favorite love poem this week was by Ben Jonson, entitled A Vision of Beauty. She soaked it up completely. I asked if she wanted me to read it again, and she said, "Oh, I don't know if I can stand it!" I asked her if I should take that as a yes, and she affirmed. We read a couple more, and she became so overwhelmed by the romance that we decided to return to the story book. But after a little while, we put the story down and went back to the poetry.

(Mom with Suzy, November 23, 2008)

From the beginning of Mom's diagnosis we have had a sense of the preciousness of this time together. Losing Chris these past few days has underscored the importance of holding our loved ones close, living a life of gratitude, not taking our time together for granted.

Prayer Request

Our cousin Chris Darrow began his fight with cancer about the same time Mom did. He has been fighting smart and hard, making very tough choices along the way. He is at Moffit right now on a ventilator, still fighting. Please pray for Chris, Nic, daughter Raina, Uncle Matt and Aunt Jan. We love you guys and we're with you in prayer.

(2007 Darrow Family Reunion, Chris between Nic and Rose)

Winter Rose

On Sunday, Boyne City saw its first snow of the season.The Saturday night rain turned to snow sometime during the night, transforming the world outside our window into a white crystal fairy land. When Mom woke up, I said, "Look out the window - we have our first snow!" She was not impressed. Not in the least.

Mom has been much quieter in the last couple of weeks. She begins sentences but does not usually finish them unless they are very short. We continue to read Peace Like A River, a partial chapter at a time. She begins to interject comments during the story, but falls just short of her intent. "That reminds me..." "Do you think..." "I was just thinking that..." Her mind interacts with us, but her communication is hindered. We fill in the blanks together.

Two Fridays ago when I arrived in Boyne I walked in her room and said "Hi Mom!", to which she gleefully replied, "You killed me!"

Mom's hemoglobin has improved - in the 9s after a few weeks in the 7s. Her blood pressure has been good. She has recovered from her UTI. Her heart rate is slightly erratic, but generally in a good range. Her breathing has changed; a bit heavier and with long pauses. This week we have increased her prednisone and morphine sulfate, and she seems more engaged and alert.

Here are a few pictures from recent weeks.

Tina and Mom on Saturday, November 1.

Grandma's groupies: Devon, Makayla, Babbette and Olivia.
Did you know how amazing pineapple is? Pineapple is the king of fruits. You should have some pineapple. Right now. Salute the pineapple!
Full of pineapple, fighting off the chill with layers of covers and the fireplace video.

Thanks for visiting. Stay warm. Have some pineapple.

A Glance Over the Shoulder

Last week I received a letter from Mom's friend, Marlene Coglianese. In the envelope was a picture from Mom's 50-year class reunion in 2003. I remember the time surrounding the reunion. Mom almost didn't go. She valued her time off from work, and the drive was over an hour one way. But she went, and I remember how pleased she was that she did. She had a wonderful time reconnecting with friends.

I took the picture to Mom last weekend. When I showed it to her, I asked if she knew the names of the friends at her side. She pointed to the one on the left and said, "That's Marlene." I asked her about the one to her right, and she hesitated. I squinted to see the name tag and said, "That's Shirley." To which she replied, "Shirley Becker."

At a time when much has been lost in the cognition realm, Mom's recognition of her high school friends was a source of joy. Thank you, Marlene, for sending the lovely picture of our mother with her friends.

I thought you might enjoy seeing a few more pictures from years past. Mom is still everything she always was in spirit and soul. It amazes me every day how the Rose Mary of yesterday shines through her current limitations.

This picture was taken during the Darrow Family Reunion in 1994, I believe on Union Street in Traverse during the Cherry Festival Grand Royale Parade. Left to right: Paul, Mom, Corey, Dad, Jaime, Suzy.

Another 1994 Darrow Reunion photo. Step back Rachael Ray. Rosie has a spatula and she knows how to use it.
This picture is somewhat of a mystery to us. Dad won several trips during his tenure at Sentry Insurance - Jamaica, Spain, and Venezuela. We didn't know this photo existed until Dad passed away. It was in a folder in his desk. Even Mom didn't know when it was taken. But it's maybe the best picture the two of them ever had taken together.

Mom mimicking Lady Liberty in Las Vegas at the 2003 Darrow Family Reunion.

Mom's 71st birthday party at Suzy's house, 2006.

The Rose Mary in these pictures is still with us. She is Rosie in her humor, her sensitivity, and her uncanny ability to find the most provocative word for the moment. In spite of the difficulty of the past nearly two years, she is undeniably herself. There's only one Rosie.

Hallucinogenic Ravioli

Suzy said to me on my way back to Grand Rapids on Monday, "You've gotta hand it to Mom. She's tough." She has just recovered from her second UTI since her last hospital visit in May. Her hemoglobin has been 7.7 for the last two weeks. Her lungs sound clear, her pulse is 70, her oxygen is 97, and temp her normal 97.something. Our mom is a strong little fighter.

We began reading Leif Enger's Peace Like A River a couple weeks ago. We're currently on chapter four. The nine-year-old girl in the story is a fan of westerns who writes a poem about a showdown between Sundown and Valdez. Mom likes the poems. We're also reading a collection of love poems I had on my shelf. So far, her favorite is So Well I Love Thee by Michael Drayton. When I read it to her for the first time a couple weeks ago, we pause at the end of this stanza:

The corn, that in the ground is sown, first dies,
And of one seed do many ears arise;
Love, this world's corn, by dying multiplies.

Mom pointed and said to me, "That is so scriptural."


The number of profound and lucid moments are declining. Mom's personality is still all there, but her grip on reality is slowly slipping. The constant is her love for us and ours for her.

Mom has allowed the little ones to help care for her. For a long time she was resistant and would scold Olivia and Cameron for offering to help her with eating or holding one of her stuffed animals. But she is more comfortable with it now, and the kids can now forge their own special place in Grandma's life. Olivia lays her head on Grandma's chest every night before bedtime and Grandma kisses her head.

A few days ago Mom was eating ravioli for lunch and thought she saw people outside the door. I told her there was no one really there. Evan asked her if she wanted more ravioli. Mom replied, "No, it makes me see things."

More Rosisms over the last couple of weeks:

(Placed Olivia's lime green stuffed poodle on Mom's lap)
Mom: Oh. I forgot to name it.
Pat: What do you think would be a good name?
Mom (after long pause): Jewel...
Pat: Jewel?
Mom: Why, I was just thinking that!
Pat: Yes, you just said it out loud, and I repeated it.
Mom: You're a genious!

Mom: I have an idea...sweet pickles!
Pat: Sweet pickles for everyone!
Mom: For everyone...on me!

(During bath)
Pat: Does that feel better?
Mom: Yes, except for that man on the wall over there.
Pat: Oh, there's not really a man over there. The morphine is playing tricks with your eyes. It's just you and me.
Mom: And Satan.

I made potato soup for the family on Saturday, and Mom was so excited about it that she sang.
"Oooh, oooh, aay....
Oh...my...soup!"
I told Mom no one had ever sung for my soup before.

Last weekend I brought Mom one of those videos of a fire place so she could have something warm and soothing to watch as an alternative to the game show network and Animal Planet. She loved it. A couple times she was confused by it, but never scared.

(Calmly) "The neighbor's house is on fire."

"Don't fall in the fire. I'll have to do a mullikabump."

Mullikabump is one of several new words Mom has fashioned lately. Among the others:
Covortz
Retro-Rinse (Evan's definition: where the spin cycle of yesterday meets the technology of today)
Tom box
Davenportase

Mom brings a lot of joy to the Wise's house. Paul was in the hospital for four days last week, and Mom was so happy to see him come home. Most visits to Mom's room result in a resounding welcome and bright smile. I've never felt so welcome anywhere as I do when I walk in her door on Thursday nights. Sometimes she forgets I'm Patty, but she never forgets she loves me. That's everything.

Stop your applause. Really. I mean it!

As of Thursday, Mom's labs were typical. Her hemoglobin is 8.4 - low, but with the range she has maintained. Her magnesium was low so she is receiving supplements, but Suzy will try to get the magnesium added to her fluids to eliminate the need for another pill. She can still reach her face with her hands. In fact, I gave her carmel corn to eat with her fingers, and she was able to feed herself for the first time in months. Evan made her a grilled cheese sandwich yesterday cut in four pieces, and she ate it all with her own hands. She is very proud, and so are we!

Last weekend Mom was still very talkative. She is very observant of people who are with her and those who are not really there. She has tried to get out of bed many times, which is good exercise for her but not possible. She is constantly working on an imaginary something, like sewing, making supper for the family, eating a snack, working a puzzle. Sometimes these activities are frustrating to her, but most of the time she is content to be working.

On Tuesday night Mom became very frustrated and angry at Cameron for not doing something she thought he was supposed to do. Her anger deepened, even though she was gently told he hadn't done anything wrong. When she heard clapping on the television, she said, "He (Cameron) is conjuring this clapping to our demise." Although it was articulately funny, it was time for Cameron and Olivia to leave Grandma for a while. Olivia went back later to give her a good night hug and kiss, then again. The second visit, Grandma hugged and kissed back.

Mom has frequently forgotten that she is home. She often speaks as if she's at our house in Traverse City waiting for Dad to come home, or at her childhood home on eleventh street waiting for her brother Jack to play with her. It must be so difficult for her to constantly return from her memories to her bed at Suzy's. She has been almost always sweet and compliant during this illness. She's entitled to some expression of frustration and anger, in whatever form it finds its way out of her. We can certainly make room for it. Suzy will monitor her pain levels in case some of her frustration is related to physical pain.

I spoke with Mom last night before going to bed. She was her usually happy self, and our conversation was normal.

"Hi Mom!"


"Hi Patty! How's every little thing?"


"Fine. I miss you."


"I miss you too, Patty."


"I'm coming to see you on Friday, and I'm going to stay with you for three whole nights."


"Oh, that will be wonderful!"


"Good night Mom. I'll see you in my dreams."


"I'll see you in my dreams too. I love you Patty."


"I love you too, Mom."

Pictures from Sunday are below. I see now that they are posted that I really need to recharge my camera batteries. Sorry for the poor quality.

Lately

There have been changes in Mom over the last couple of weeks. She has quiet times, then chatty times. Moody times and stoic times. She's developed some new aches and pains. We've increased her medicine. Through all of it, she still has a kind word and a smile every morning.

The drugs that are keeping her comfortable are fentanyl and morphine. The fentanyl is administered through a small patch we place on her shoulder. It administers 72 hours of effective pain relief, then we change the patch. The morphine is in suspension and she gets a small dose every three hours throughout the day.

For her brain, we give her dexamethasone. This reduces swelling caused from the brain tumor. We're monitoring its effectiveness closely, since it is a steroid medication and can make her more suseptible to infection.

Corey and I are just about ready to head out the door for Boyne City. I'm posting a few pictures from the last couple of weeks, and I'll try to write more over the weekend.


Mom dreaming sweet dreams of puppies and chocolate.
Tina and Mom.
Tina and Suzy at the door of Mom's room.
Kisses for Tina.
Cameron and Devon.
Devon blows bye-bye kisses to Grandma Rose.



Bill, Pattie, Jessy & Tyler with Mom last weekend.


Tyler and Grandma Rose saying bye!

Babbette keeping Mom's lap warm, or Mom keeping Babbette warm...it's a mutual thing.