Thursday, February 23, 2012

Sometimes college consumes my life

Lately, I haven't been able to see my mom as often as I would like. I have classes four days a week. And my mom always seems to be busy whenever I'm free.

I saw my mom last Friday, the 17th. I was looking forward to spending home one-on-one time with her, but she had distant family visiting from Norway that I didn't know was coming. Some relatives she grew up with in Iran that I had never met. And because her memory and planning is not so good anymore, she hadn't realized that she had double-booked her Friday. This is something that I have had to get used to in the past year. It happens quite a lot.

It was a fun day, but not what I expected. I tried to spend some time with just my mom by asking her to go on a walk with me. Here's a picture of my mom from our walk on Friday:



But she got tired very quickly, so our walk didn't last long.

The next day, my mom, dad, and sister went to Arizona for a few days to visit with one of my mom friends and one of my childhood friends. So I didn't see her for a few days. They got back on Tuesday, but this week was MidTerm week for me and I had a MidTerm on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday (today).

And now it's been a week.

I had told myself that I would see my mom at least twice a week. But that obviously isn't working.

It makes me really sad. I often feel like there is no way that school is more important to me than my mom. I'd much rather be spending my time with my mom than in class or studying. But I know staying in school is the right thing to do. I just wish it weren't.

I hate the fact that I will feel so guilty when she's gone that I spent so much of my time doing school stuff.

I hope to god college will be worth it.

But then again, I keep telling myself I should put all of the blame on myself. My mom seems to be constantly busy. Everyone wants to spend time with her. Last weekend she was in Arizona. This weekend she and my dad are going down to Santa Cruz for a meditation retreat.

I just miss my mom. I moved back to California for her. And yet I feel like I don't see her any more often than if I were still back in Chicago.

Friday, February 10, 2012

Has my mom turned back into a child?

The effects of a brain tumor depend greatly on the location of the tumor in the brain.  As you probably know, the brain is composed of several lobes that relate to different functions of your brain and body. (Learn more at Wikipedia) For many people, a brain tumor affects their vision, movement, or speech.

My mom's brain cancer is located in her right frontal lobe. (Thank goodness it hasn't spread to the other parts of the brain.)

Not much is known about the frontal lobe in comparison to the other lobes of the brain. But most researchers agree that the frontal lobe controls aspects of higher mental thinking like decision-making, planning, and understanding social norms. It also controls converting short-term memory into long-term memories. The frontal lobe also houses your personality. Essentially, the frontal lobe makes you who you are. It's the reason you're unique.

The frontal lobe doesn't finish developing until your mid-twenties when most people reach adulthood maturity.

Taking all of this into consideration, it's easy to understand the changes in my mom's mentality.

Since her first surgery in January 2011, several aspects of her mind have progressively changed.

One thing that I started noticing in June 2011 was that her short-term memory wasn't doing very well. And it's only gotten worse since then.

One time when I was talking with her in August, she was telling me that she had two events planned for that weekend: a barbecue picnic lunch on Saturday and a crab dinner at a fundraising event on Sunday. She tells me that her friend's brother will be bringing oysters to the barbecue. A few minutes go by and then she tells me that she got a call from a man she didn't know that morning asking her how many crabs she would like to order for this weekend. She assumed that the man was her friend's brother and told him that she was only expecting oysters. Both her and the man must have been very confused. She then called her friend asking him why his brother wanted to bring crabs when she had asked for oysters. Which then of course confused her friend too. At this point I laughed and said, "That's funny because you know the man was calling about the crab dinner on Sunday, right?" And she just looked at me with a blank face. That's when I knew her memory had really started being affected by her cancer.

It's a scary thing to see your mom start losing her short-term memory like that. She tells me all the time now that my dad gets really frustrated with her because she is constantly losing stuff now. She says she'll put something down one minute, not remember where she left it, and she will not be able to find it for the rest of the day.

Another thing I've noticed getting progressively worse is her understanding of numbers, especially dates and times. She really has trouble planning things and then remembering when she planned it for. There will be times where I tell her I am coming home for lunch on Saturday, and then an hour later she texts me saying that she can't wait to see me on Thursday. Or one time I had planned a day for us for the upcoming Wednesday, and when I got home, she was not prepared. She thought I had meant to Wednesdays from then. It's challenging, especially when she double books her time. I try to write things down for her, but it doesn't seem to help. She'll read it, but she won't process it correctly.

The most drastic changed I've seen has been more recent, since the second craniotomy. The brain cancer has started affecting her mental development. Essentially, she's started acting more and more like a child. This makes sense because the frontal lobe doesn't fully develop until a person is in their mid-twenties. So when a person loses parts of their frontal lobe, it will make them seem like they have reversed in age.

My mom has developed a similar sense of egocentrism usually found in children. (Read about childhood egocentrism on Wikipedia)

She also has that childhood mentality of seeing something she wants, and just assuming she can have it. In early December, I began knitting a scarf to help with stress reduction. My mom sees me knitting, and she assumes I'm knitting a scarf for her. I tell her I'm not, but I can knit her a scarf after this one. She doesn't listen to me and continues to assume the scarf is for her. Then my sister starts knitting herself a scarf as well. My mom again assumes the scarf is for her. My sister tells her the same thing, but my mom continues to think that the scarf is for her. A few days before Christmas, my mom is upset that she walked into my sister's room and saw the scarf just laying on the floor. She goes to my sister asking her why her Christmas present isn't wrapped and under the tree, instead it's just lying on her floor. My sister is very confused. She asks my mom "What present? Your presents are already under the tree." My mom just looks back at her with the same blank look on her face from the whole crab/oyster fiasco.

My mom has also started throwing fits. When she doesn't want to take anymore pills, she will let you know, even if those pills are her chemotherapy pills. She doesn't care. She's tired of taking pills and doesn't want to take anymore.

The same goes for when she wants things like ice cream. She knows she's not supposed to eat ice cream. But she doesn't care. She wants ice cream.

The extent of child-ness has even effected her in small ways. She now speaks like a child, like a 7-year-old, most of the time. And speaking like an adult is an obvious strain for her. She also tucks in her lip a lot, like this child:


The effects of the brain cancer on her mentality have been a huge shock to me. I had no idea what to expect. But she's still sharp. She still has her intelligence. And it's very interesting and difficult to watch her struggle between what she knows is right from her experiences before the cancer and what her childish mind if telling her is right now. It's very complex, but I think she constantly struggling to maintain her adult mentality.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

The Reset Button



When you start college, you're starting your life as an adult. No more living with your parents. You finally get to be independent.

Then, in my case, you find out your mom has terminal cancer. And everything changes.

You decide to move back home. Back to living with you parents. No more independence.

I've found that recently I've been thinking about my own life in terms of either "before the cancer" or "since the cancer." A parent's cancer diagnosis can really change things. It changed my whole life, where I was living, where I was going to school, and my perspective on my life.

I had moved 2,000 miles away from home to study in Chicago for college. I was so excited to be living in a big city and to begin creating a life for myself. I planned to spend the next four years of my life in Chicago. I was beginning a new chapter in my life.

So when I decided to move back home, but felt very lonely and isolated. I had no friends at home for support. They had all gone off to college too. I felt so alone, but I couldn't blame them. They were off at college, figuring out their own lives. I understood.

I had spent months of my life in high school applying to colleges and stressing over which college to choose, weighing the pros and cons. It was a decision that required a lot of thought and time.

But then everything changed in an instant and I had to reset my entire life. No more Chicago. I had to find a new college. I spent one semester at the local community college while I figured out what college to transfer to.

I began looking for colleges that were in the San Francisco Bay Area to stay close to my mom. Unfortunately, none of the colleges really thrilled me. I began to get depressed and frustrated that I had given up a school I loved and couldn't find anything I liked at home.

Through all of the stress with my mom, I ended up in a place where I never expected myself to be, emotionally and physically.

That was probably the hardest part to admit to myself. I was looking for a college that was similar to the one I had left. And I was getting frustrated because none of them felt right. I had to come to terms with the fact that I was in a different emotional place, and that going to a big, exciting school in a big city would not be good for me.

So I decided on Mills College, a very small, all-women's school. It's a very supportive and comforting place, exactly what I need right now.

I'm not living a carefree, exciting college life in a big city. I'm living close to home and going to school at a tiny all-girls school. And although I certainly wouldn't have chosen this for myself before the diagnosis, it feels right for this time in my life. I'm in a new situation that I never expected myself to be in, and I'm just doing what I can to make the best of it.