#decadron dosage for brain tumor

[fractallogic]

Nausea/vomiting, loss of consciousness, incoherence means that there’s a limited set of likely things that could be happening

1) brain swelling (possibly she’s been mis-taking her decadron because bf is letting her be independent and the dosage/tapering is more complicated than “take one of these pills until they’re gone”; that’s the drug to keep her brain from swelling after the surgery and I think this is the most likely)

2) whatever was left of the tumor has regrown dramatically (this is apparently what was happening the first time he took her to the hospital a couple weeks ago; since no one fucking knows anything about the scans or biopsy, unclear how likely this is, but because of how tumors and cancer work, it’s definitely on the table)

3) some kind of bleed or block (stroke seems unlikely if they didn’t tell the bf right away that it was one, but possibly a bleed in the right place could cause this kind of thing to happen)

4) some other kind of damage (idk how fragile her head is with the stitches right now, but they’re not completely dissolved yet; she could have moved too suddenly or tripped or sth and wiggled her brain around too hard, causing other tissue to swell into the brain or, again, bleeding into the brain)

5) something else

I’m really hoping it’s option #1, in part because it should be easy to resolve if it’s a med thing, and also in part because option 2 feels the most likely after that and boy I really don’t feel great about a prognosis if that’s how quickly things are regrowing in there, and still! not really ready to deal with a parent’s death yet!

I think next week I need to call the counseling office where my psych is and inquire about their supposed sliding scale because my psych is also a therapist and at this point I absolutely need therapy like, now. I can’t do complicated mom feelings by myself (and friends) when maybe my mom is actively dying. I can’t wait another ?????? months and I also can’t afford something that is weekly and, I believe, $200 an hour. Like. Ffs.

Dad keeps telling me things that he’s planned for when he dies (in about 30 years, knock on wood, because he wants to live to see the middle of the 21st century) and prefaces this with “I know this might seem morbid, but you need to know this and I think you’re at the age where you can handle this information” and before I was like okay yeah it’s sad to think about you dying, but this is reasonable. Now I’m like thank god you have actually planned for this, you know how your medical bills and any caretaking or end-of-life stuff is going to be paid, I know that not only you have a will but that me and my aunts are going to be the executors of it, I know what you’re leaving to me, I know that you want to be cremated and where you want me to spread your ashes.

Do I know literally ANY of that for my mom? NO! It’s driving me insane. Maybe she has a will! Maybe she has insurance! Like just that basic info is a mystery. How has she been paying for anything on this big road trip, after they bought and renovated a house, and when she’s been working sporadically and mostly part-time for the last few years? Unclear. How the fuck am I supposed to know how to take care of her or what I need to do if she dies.

Stepdad has also been thinking about his own end-of-life stuff but obviously I’m less privy to that (because he has two grown children that he’s close with who are basically my mom’s age, so they’re presumably going to take care of all of his stuff). It’s going to be incredibly sad when he dies, but I feel less groping-into-the-unknown.

Crassly, morbidly, part of me is so frustrated that it’s the difficult parent who’s in this situation first. I don’t fucking know what to do and she’s still married to stepdad on paper; he and me and brother are her next of kin (is that how that works? ITS A FUCKING MYSTERY) (but I’m like 85% sure) AND WE DONT KNOW ANYTHING. With dad and stepdad it will be emotionally so much harder, but logistically so much less complicated. Mom has both complicated logistics AND complicated feelings.

I need to go to bed because it’s 1:30 and I would LIKE to enjoy the weekend I have with my dad here, and that means I need to actually wake up and like, exist, but. you know. what the fuck. goddammit. fuck. ugh. etc.