For the Love of Chickens!

Life is tough. Very tough. It is also filled with many wonderful things. One of those is CHICKENS! We started our first backyard flock in the Spring of 2012, inspired by friends. We decided to keep it small...it has since filled our lives and we've expanded (a lot). For the full story visit our website and blog at Favara Flocks. It's just getting started so do follow us there and come back for more soon. 

I know some of you are probably thinking, what the heck is this lady talking about chickens for? Isn't this a cancer blog? Well yes it is...but it's also just about the life. Cancer, my mom's, is just part of that life. A huge part, don't get me wrong. On a good day is it all consuming. But, I am learning that there are these little things in life that I or my family or all of us together enjoy so much, that for a few seconds there is some reprieve from our fears and we find joy. 

Chickens are the greatest little things. They have personalities like you wouldn't believe, until you've spent time with them. We've not named any of ours because we respect the fact that they are also food or provide food and life is delicate. We lost our beautiful dog, Sasha Girl, a sweet English Bull Mastiff this summer and it was very hard on the entire family. Sometimes I think deep down it is more self preservation to refrain from naming them than anything else. Although, we've become quite attached to our chickens, so much so we might as well get on with it and name them. 

Today we added an additional 26 baby chicks to our existing flock of 7 full grown chickens and 4 other chicks that are now 3.5 weeks old. I spent the better part of the afternoon worrying about chicks sitting in a box at the Post Office, having arrived 2 full days early while I was 30 minutes away at work. Turns out they were fine, and I spent a few hours worrying about something different today. Coming home with my little guy and spending a few moments getting the chicks settled and watching them was the JOY. 

There are many wonderful things about raising chickens: 

• Although a great responsibility they are far less work than say having a dog. 
• They are quite funny. 
• Fun to watch.
• Delicious, healthy, local (in my yard) eggs that are more nutritious than store bought and free of all things unnatural. 
• Meat if you are someone who can do that, I can't and so I won't. 
• Great learning experience for children. 
• Wonderful distractions from the very serious nature of life. 
• Did I mention they eat bugs (especially ticks) and make great fertilizer (organic) for the garden.
• You feel like your doing something important, something that is worth doing. 

Having a mom with Cancer makes you suddenly aware or more aware and concerned with what you consume. So, we raise chickens (and someday soon, honey bees and goats and maybe a horse), compost, plant gardens and do our best to make good choices. 

Most of all we have the chickens, for the love of chickens! I know, I know sound like a crazy bird lady but that is not at all the case. You'll have to take my word on it. 

Embracing My Anger through Advocacy! Part II

We three (and two Paramedics) left the Emergency (Hell) Room at Anna Jaques Hospital in Newburyport, Massachusetts with little answers and lots of fear. The paramedics seemed a bit standoffish to me, but given their job and my hindsight, I imagine it's not very easy to detach yourself from someone in an emergency each and every day over and over. The driver was stone faced and she meant business! I could tell she was not in the least bit comfortable that not only one but two additional passengers were riding along with her patient. The other guy, he was more socially awkward than anything and in the end he was quite nice. They seemed an unlikely team. 

Mom was strapped into the gurney and tucked into the bus (as they call an ambulance, not sure why - it's clearly more like a van than a bus) like a sardine. This did not help her nerves and made it so she was positioned in a way that I could not even make eye contact to reassure her. We arrived at the Ambulance Entrance after a rather bumpy ride (Thank You Taxachusetts!) and she was rolled into triage. It was not at all what I expected. In my mind I imagined that since she already spent the day in another ER and she was being transferred that it would be smooth. That the doctor had called and shared all the details of why she was being transferred and that they would be ready for her. 

The ambulance triage area was filled with gurneys of other people who had been transferred or "rushed" to the ER at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center in Boston. This was not the place I imagined landing when arriving at a state of the art medical facility in Boston, Massachusetts.There was no introduction to the triage nurse, no explanation of what would happen next or what was expected of me while there. There was just nothing but awkward standing and waiting, trying to reassure mom that Boston was the best place for her. 

We stood with mom while she waited in the Gurney Line (yes I am serious, it was a line of Gurneys) to have her final vitals recorded by the Paramedics and be signed over to the Triage Nurses. We received no instructions so we stood and we stood...it was really quite odd given that we seemed very much out of place but we were not leaving her for anything so we stood. The driver, I wish I remembered her name now, actually opened up now that her patient was safely delivered and come to find out she is a student where I work. Maybe we'll cross paths again someday and I can thank her. 

The paramedics were instructed to park mom in the only remaining spot, right in front of the automatic doors in the dead of winter, where she would wait for a room in the ER. There were many Gurneys parked in this small open area, car accident victims, gun shot victims, drunks, cancer patients and the list goes on. 

After standing with her for a few hours and taking her to the ladies room once (because at least the nurse here was clear that she could actually get there with the wheelchair safely and for her comfort, him being male and all, allowed me into the back of the ER to assist her). 

My father arrived from a roofing job site nearby. We saw him before he saw us and my sister left to get to him and help him get to us. That did not go so well. We had no idea about protocol or what the other side of triage even looked liked since we had no explanations upon arrival. He got to a not so helpful woman in the waiting room who basically told him he was not going to get back to see mom. Anyone who knows my dad knows that he does not deal well with conflict. He nearly lost it, so he left and my sister followed him out and he was sitting in his truck, outside the ER, which would not fit in the Parking Garage. Can this get any worse...oh yes it can.

Thankfully, Bryndon(my sister Lisa's other half) drove Dad to the hospital and a police officer said he could 'live' park in the fire lane outside the ER. For one, that's where Dad sat for quite a while and for two, it was going to be a very long night. 

My sister tried to return to my mother and I and she was then intercepted by security and told that only one person could be back with my mother (I was already back there) and therefor how the hell could she tell me what happend with dad and that there was now this rule no one had mentioned to us if they would not let her do so. 

Well, my sister does not like to be told no. So she marched outside and around the building to the Ambulance Entrance, which just so happened to be inches from where my mother still lay on the gurney at what must have been an hour and a half to two hours at this point. She began to break the news to us(with security on her heals), which was very distressing to my mother and myself (mom wanted to see Dad and I needed to be there as her advocate because Dad just doesn't have that in him). After calming down the security guard and convincing him I can be trusted to follow protocol now that it has been shared with me I formulate my plan. So, my sister stays with Mom and I go looking for Dad in his truck. 

It took a lot of convincing to get him to walk back through those doors and go see mom. In the end he decided to do it after a period of time. Slowly the rest of my family arrived and waited in the waiting area. Before long we were told that no longer could anyone stay with mom, there were just too many patients on gurneys in triage. The waiting room was agony, not just because my mother was alone and scared and sick but also because it was filled with 20-30 people waiting to be seen in the ER for the Flu! Something none of us could afford to get because we couldn't risk passing it to mom. 

The hours ticked on and late in the evening my mother was moved from the triage area to the ER Rooms. Except there were no rooms available for her so she was assigned a square in a hallway and again was allowed to have one person with her at a time. By now I have established a rapport with the nasty women at the ER desk and I can come and go somewhat freely because she finally believes I will follow her rules. 

My husband arrives just after dark and he brings food. My sister and I are starved, we've not eaten since breakfast. He is a godsend. It becomes evident that although the doctors have begun to visit mom there is little to no hope that she will be fully evaluated and admitted before the day ends. So I begin the process of shuffling everyone in and out to see and say goodnight to mom and send them all home. 

My father, my husband and I remain. Dad and I take turns sitting with mom and keeping my husband company in the waiting area which is slowly emptying. The hours tick on and on. Eventually the decision is made to admit mom, but that surgery would not be recommended. This is a relief and disconcerting at the same time. Why did that ER doctor at AJH tell my mother she needed major reconstructive surgery and cause her so much distress? Incompetence?  Fear? I will never know. The only explanation I get is that local doctors are not always familiar with what cancer does to bones and protocol for treating it, they just see deterioration that needs to be fixed. 

I can't help but think, shouldn't all doctors, especially ER doctors be up on this stuff? At least generally? Should he have been able to sit down for five minutes and explain to mom what he saw, what that means in a normal person but that cancer patients are treated entirely different and that he is sending her to Boston where she will get to see the best in the cancer field and receive the best treatment. I wonder at times, if this is America and we have the best care in the world, how awful it must be everywhere else when a doctor here can't take 5 minutes to explain something to a patient in the least scary way possible. 

It was nearly 3 am before mom would begin the process of being transported to a room and admitted to the hospital...

To be continued.

Measuring Up

Lately I feel like I have missed the mark. No one warns you, truly warns you what it means to be a mother and a wife - while being a good daughter and a strong leader at work. It's suddenly occurred to me why there are some who say women can't, you can't be the best mom and have a career where you are also at your best. 

I always resented the idea that I couldn't do that, of course I could. This is America, women are equal and I can do anything I want to do. Right? Well, with age comes wisdom. The feminist in me still believes that I can and should do anything my heart desires. That women should continue to fight to remain equal in this world of men. We've come far in many ways, and in others we must continue to fight. 

Wisdom has taught me one thing though, it's important to be honest with yourself. It's okay to want many things, pursue them and fight for the right to do this. I would encourage any child (especially female) to do just that, to never let anyone tell them they can't follow a dream, or many, no matter what they are. However, I have discovered that if I am honest with myself: I can't be the best mom, wife and daughter and the best, strong leader in my career at the same time. 

I try very hard to balance, home and work, but the truth is that I drop balls often. It is a juggling act that is anything but flawless. Lately, I feel as though I am falling short in every aspect of life. My house is dirty and dinners are short and very last minute. I have missed multiple deadlines at work and feel as though I am constantly playing catch-up. Then there are all the things that I know I should have done to keep things organized and be on top of things for mom that I have not done. 

I feel as thought I am in my suck zone and I can't get out. I try to remember to focus on my strengths, and just keep moving forward but sometimes that is so hard. I am starting to think that in life being a mom is like being a magician and hoping that no one discovers your bag of tricks and sees just how vulnerable you are. 

Birthday Boy!

My little guy turned four on Saturday. Boy time really does fly. You become a parent and it's like suddenly your stuck on Fast Forward, except there is no pause button. The fact is that unless your waiting and hoping for a cancer treatment (or any other treatment of a debilitating or life threatening disease) to start working [which feels agonizingly slow I might add, even when you receive hopeful bits of news] life moves much too fast. Only in those most desperate of moments does it feel like a slow motion movie in which the right combination of medicine is just out of reach. 

For the most part, we move through life and we face really tough things like moms with cancer and that pause button would come in so handy. Why is that? It would be so great if we could just slow down a bit. 

We can't though. Life is like that, it's either agonizingly slow or mostly too fast. Like when your son turns 4 and it's bittersweet because he's 4 and you've lost another year of his innocent childhood but he is growing up to be quite the little man and Grammy was there to see it. 

It's really difficult not to think of all the good memories as memories, memories that remind you that at some point in the future the memories we make won't include Grammy (my mom). That's really tough to swallow. At the end of a really great day in which your son has cuddled with his Grammy, they've had dinner together, you've made cake,everyone ate cake, he opened gifts and posed for precious, loving, smiling pictures it is tough to stay positive when for just one second you let yourself consider the fact that you really no longer have any clue just how many of these moments are left. 

Saturday was one of the best days we've had in the last three months. It's been a long three months and I know that it is important to stop grieving for what we will all lose, what she will lose and focus on the present, being present and making precious memories. I have to coach myself to do it. Enjoying a special time no longer comes natural to me. Constantly thinking and considering what will come next (snapshot of just some of my regular thoughts):

What I need to do to help mom...
What I can do to help mom...
What I need to plan...
What my family needs from me...
What I can give my family...
What my mom's pain level is at any given moment...
Is she managing her pain or skipping the meds...
Did she remember her meds today...
Was it a good day for her... 
Did she have a restful sleep...
Is she lonely today...
Did anyone else visit her or ask how she was...
Did I break any promises today that I never intended to break...
How will I keep this up...
When will I ever master my mind and actually sleep well... 

That is my new normal. 

Being positive is key, and focus, great focus. I know this to be true. So on Saturday I focused on my son, and his cake...it was a great cake if I do say so. I am no cake boss but it was fun. I focused on taking pictures of him with Grammy. 

Grammy's Smile

Lucca's Fire Boat Cake

We got him his first fish tank, just a 20 gallon but it's a great tank and he loves it. On Sunday we picked up fish, 4 Neon Tetras, 2 Fancy Tail Guppies (one male and one female, mommy's pick, because after all life is a miracle), 2 Silver Mollies (one male and one female, again mommy's pick) and finally a Creamsicle Molly and a Black Molly (both males, Lucca's pick - typical boy). After one hour the Neon Tetra's didn't make it (life is also fragile). They've since been replaced by 4 Glo Tetra's and an additional 2 Comets (goldfish). This smile on his face when he stares at those fish, or feeds them, just a spot - never more than a spot...is so precious. 


"When you feed a fish, never feed him a lot, so much and no more, never more than a spot or something will happen! You never know what." 

             A Fish Out of Water - By Helen Palmer Geisel         

Friday's optimism, was followed by Saturday's precious memories and for a few days we all did our best to focus and be in the moment and not in that place of fear that is so easy to go to. 

Happy Birthday my child. 
You are so loved. 

Optimism

This New Englander did not start the day very optimistically. First and foremost, SNOW, more SNOW! I awoke to 4-6 inches on the ground and still more coming down. Since I have Friday's off with my little guy you might be thinking, that's great, Snow Angels and Hot Chocolate are in order. Well any other day you would be right, and boy oh boy did I wish that was the plan for today.

With lots of snow, no childcare and two appointments in Boston for mom, I had to put my big girl pants on and stop whining. Did I mention that despite being a New Englander and despite being able to drive better than most in the snow, I hate it. I truly hate it. One should not have to drive in treacherous weather with a child and a parent through streets and down highways that were not plowed - or plowed but not maintained beyond the initial swipe.

This is New England right? So, is it too much to expect that our towns and states have this down to somewhat of a science. Afterall this storm was not a surprise. Wait, who am I kidding, elected officials communicating effectively and leading is kind of far fetched, never mind relying on something as exact as science.

So the journey begins with mom reminding me to breath intermittently as we make our way down the highway surrounded by people you might think would have some experience driving in snow. Afterall this is New England, right? Mom was great though...no ooohs or ahhhs or sudden movements which is her typical "back seat driving" as they say. She was a trooper.

On a positive note, we arrived a little over an hour early for the appointment. That's where I learned for the first time that kids are not allowed in the Hematology/Oncology department. Which, to be honest, makes total sense to me, but in the moment completely unravels me. Afterall, I am trying so hard to be everything to everyone and this is the last thing I need to hear today. So out to the hall I go with my son and my bag of goodies, leaving mom behind to sit and wait alone.

A good mom always has a bag of goodies. This bag of goodies made for a very well behaved son who consequently became known as the "door man" for opening the door for each and every patient, family member, doctor and nurse that came through. And, he's cute. Yes, I am bragging but one must brag about their son, it's in the job description that comes with the title "Mom".

Despite being early, the doctor is late. That's always the way isn't it. However, they are so kind and thorough it's really very difficult to be angry once your in the room with them chatting. And then the news arrives that we've been waiting for! Mom has had just one week of Xeloda, and now she is finishing up her off week. Things are OPTIMISTIC!

Did the Doctor just say the "O" word. Is that a smile on my face? On mom's face? 

Indeed she did, followed  by her CBC was GOOD, her counts are slightly up and her kidney functions are good and her LD-something good too! All optimistic...there's that word again!!! Doc went on to say these are all signs that Xeloda may be a good fit for mom's disease make up.

That means we continue, a week on Chemo, a week off and switch to monthly visits that coincide with her Zomeda injections. Although we have another follow up in two weeks with the radiation oncologist followed  by ortho-oncologist a few days later...maybe spring will have sprung by our next meeting with mom's oncology team on April 8th...which is a good day for great things, it's the day her first grandchild was born, my God Son, JT. Follow up scans Will be 4 months it from February 22 (chemo start date).

Oh and speaking of birthdays,  little Love who was ever the big boy today turns 4 tomorrow. I ask blessed. Night All, keep the prayers and well wishes coming.