Stories from Caregivers: Stacey from INDIANA
IN
Stacey
FROM INDIANA
I will never forget that day - December 5, 2012 - my son Trevor's 11th birthday. It started out like any other Wednesday at the office, but before it was over my life had changed forever. At 10:21 a.m. I was at my desk when I got the call and the message no one ever wants to hear. My mom, Mary Cox, was on the line. "Stace, I don't feel very good,"� she said. "I think I need to go to the hospital. I've been having headaches. I called an ambulance. Can you meet me there?"� I dropped everything and headed out to meet her. During the five-minute drive to the hospital I stayed calm. I didn't feel panicked or worried. After all, Mom had just turned 58. She was young. She was healthy. I just assumed she had a migraine. (I actually thought to myself "Mom can be so dramatic!"�) While in the emergency room, they gave Mom medication to ease her pain and performed a CAT scan. Twenty minutes passed before a young physician walked into our room and said "Mrs. Cox, we have the results of your CAT scan. It doesn't look good. You have multiple tumors on your brain and they appear to be cancerous. We need to send you to St. Mary's right away!"� And just like that...my whole world changed. After Mom and I had some prayer time and a meltdown, we both seemed eerily calm. Once we arrived at St. Mary's Hospital in Evansville, things started happening so fast. There were doctors, nurses, needles, pills, machines and monitors. I kept waiting for someone to tell us something different. Surely the ER doctor missed something. Maybe he was wrong. But the news never changed - Mom had cancer. She was admitted to the Intensive Care Unit, monitored for seizures and scheduled for brain surgery the very next day. Time felt as if it stood still. All of a sudden, I was in charge and asking myself "What do I do next?"� When Mom was admitted to the hospital she was only taking one pill a day to treat a thyroid disorder. When she was released 10 days later, she was taking 13 pills and had a diagnosis of brain cancer with metastasis. She was not expected to live. On the day Mom was discharged, we both were so eager to get home that we were telling the doctors, social workers and nurses anything they wanted to hear. No, she won't drive. Yes, she'll monitor her diet. Yes, we will keep all her follow-up appointments. And yes, we understand all of her medications. Of course, we didn't. Who would? I'm a social worker with 15 years experience in health care and a master's degree and I had no idea what I was doing. I was just a daughter who was scared, confused and in desperate need of guidance. We spent the next six weeks traveling back and forth to daily radiation treatments and weekly doctor appointments. And just like that, I found a new normal. My strong, independent, young mother needed a companion, a chauffeur, a housekeeper, a cook, a nurse, and even a babysitter at times. There were many sleepless nights and long days. But as stressful as it was, there were some occasions for laughter and joy. One particular one happened when my sister Carie and I were taking Mom to Evansville for a radiation treatment in the middle of the Christmas Blizzard of 2012. It took us almost five hours to get home and in those five hours we had the best time together. We laughed, we reminisced, and we shed some tears. We even helped a few stranded motorists along the route. I remember Mom shouting "Girl power! My girls and I can do anything."� I wouldn't take that trip back for anything. Mom passed away peacefully at home on January 20, 2013, just six weeks and six days after she was diagnosed. Her entire family surrounded her bedside and watched her take her last breath. I'm still trying to come to terms with the fact that she is gone, but I am so very thankful that I was able to help care for Mom during her final days. As with most caregivers, my responsibilities didn't end when Mom passed away. I spent the following year looking after my dad and caring for my aging grandparents. I also became power of attorney and health care representative for my maternal grandfather. In the course of a few months following my mom's death, Grandpa entered a nursing facility three times, had two major surgeries and was hospitalized at least 10 times. He passed away in September 2012, just nine months after his daughter. My experiences over the past two years have shown me what a crucial role caregivers play in the circle of life. Mom spent countless hours taking care of my sister and me and when the need arose we returned the favor. That is what we do as children and grandchildren. It is a fact that at some point in your life you will have the responsibility of taking care of someone else. This task can be overwhelming, but there is joy to be found in your caregiving journey. It can bring you closer to your loved ones and lead to memories that will help comfort you long after they are gone.
