Her energy comes in fitful bursts, and then she's wiped out for long stretches. Sleeping is erratic, and she's just plan sick of the whole thing now.
Yesterday I stopped by for a brief visit and she admitted, "I'm not doing this again." I'm not quite sure what to make of that yet, but I respect it. She called on my way over and asked me to bring her a grilled chicken sandwich and tater tots from Sonic for dinner.
It looked nasty. (The curbside service was remarkably good for around here, I might throw in - better than some of Columbus' nicer restaurants.) Mom couldn't really taste it, and I don't think she even wanted it. But she didn't want to cook, she didn't want me to cook, and making strange requests of people willing to do anything for her is one of her only control valves right now.
I mean, what can you do when you have cancer? Nothing. Have the radical procedure, take the follow-up treatments, feel like shit for a couple of months or years and hope the whole thing takes is about the sum of it.
So, she's taken to controlling things she can do, and even that is pretty innocuous stuff. About four weeks ago, between treatments, she woke up one Saturday and decided she wanted a home theater system with a 41" HD television. Done. She can now watch Meerkat Manor in full high-definition digital, which admittedly is pretty cool.
She also has fixated on other things, like this extremely minor dental procedure I needed to have for years but kept putting off. She fairly insisted I have this done in recent weeks, and she constantly asks me about my progress. (I had a labial frenectomy, by the way. And for those who follow such things, yes, the alignment has improved.)
There are other things: Insisting on a special brand of toothpaste that can only be found at one store in Columbus. Other fetch it requests for tater tots, watermelon, loose-fitting clothing. Lots of questions about the playlists that Matthew and I created for her iPod Nano.