chemotherapy

Today we are up at Walter Ried Hospital, while my mom gets chemo. She was diagnosed with inflamatory breast cancer in November and given 2 months to live. They said there was no hope at all. Cancel all magazine subscriptions and go home and wait. Very horrible. It is September and she is doing very well.
I wish I could say our story was the kind you see on lifetime but the reality was very different; my sister and I promptly turned into something you might see on Jerry Springer, all we needed was a naked dwarf to fight over, and my Mom promptly turned in Zha Zha Gabor. We have had 3 rounds of chemo and one million shots and pills. They sent me home to take care of her with this advice: give her the big shot at a 45 degree angle. It was terrifying. Every time she said she was cold I thought it was the end. There were no soft focus moments where we shared secrets and lifes meaning but rather moments where she thought I might be the dumbest human alive because I used a steak knife to butter bread. She is using our time together to turn me into Marie Osmond.
In the beginning I spent a lot of time changing sheets and trying to be the perfect nursemaid. I cried all the time and completely fell apart. After on grueling day of changing all the bedding and scrubbing rugs, these are the things they don't show on lifetime, Sophie brought me a little gift, her sippie cup "whats this sophie" she had thoughtfully pooped in the cup and put the lid back on. This was the first time I laughed in months. Anyway things are a little better now. Her chemo is working, she will not go into remission but will get more time. To complete my transformation probabally, look for me with big hair and suntan hose, maybe competing on dancing with the stars.