In Roanoke to see my Mom

I’ve come to the east coast for a week. Last night I left Los Angeles for Roanoke, Virginia. It was a short notice flight, but my family and I have been looking for an excuse to come east to see my Mom, recently diagnosed with renal cell carcinoma, cancer. She has Stage IV, the stage with the most effect on the body overall. My Mom has metastasis to her brain and lung. A few weeks ago she had Cyberknife radiation on the metastasis in her brain. Yesterday she started chemotherapy, and had a great day, she went and ate Red Lobster with my sister yesterday apparently. Today she was very active for the first half of the day, but has had nausea, dry mouth and most of all fatigue.

Meanwhile. I flew in to Greensboro from LAX, through Charlotte, on a red eye.

Here’s what morning looks like at CLT:


Morning in Charlotte

I arrived in Greensboro and was picked up by my Dad. On the way we talked some and stopped at a Sheetz, somewhere along the way. I’m sort of famous to Leah for being able to sleep well on planes, any mass-transit really. But my flights were not really optimal overnight for sleep. So I’ll need to adjust and adapt.

This photo approximates how I felt on the first leg of my flight:

In the plane.

Meanwhile, the thing I notice most around my parent’s place is how green everything is. I have managed to forget how green this part of the country is. All my visits have been at Christmastime — in the Winter. Never in the Spring or Summer, at least not for a long time. It’s very green out here:

Different kind of green

My Mom had some side effects from the chemo today, and we (my sister, her fiancee, my dad and I) went on a road trip to a drug store locally. Our quest was for dry-mouth combat tools. Among them we acquired some Deb’s Frozen Lemonade — which I did not remember being a staple here. Truth is, the place is 15 years old. It’s been about 15 years since I lived here, coincidentally.

I miss home, and my wife, but I’m home here too.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.