One of the most persistent symptoms my mom experienced prior to her October 2022 colonoscopy appointment was nausea and stomach upset.
The first few times it happened, we chalked it up to something she might have eaten or had to drink that day that maybe was triggering that response.
After a certain point, though, I began to worry that it was something more concerning, because it was happening on average a couple of times a month. I wanted to look into it more via doctor appointments, but the escalation in the instances happened in the spring of 2022, when my dad really started to go downhill, and around the time that I had decided I was moving back home.
So mom put doctor visits for herself on the back burner, saying that after dad got well enough to come home from the physical rehab/nursing facility, she'd make another appointment with her GI specialist - who had urged her at her previous appointment, which was in the fall of 2021, to get a colonoscopy.
He never made it home. And three weeks after his passing, mom experienced a nausea/stomach upset bout so bad that she had to go to the hospital. Three weeks after that, it happened again. It was at that point that the journey to nail down what was wrong began in earnest under my watch and supervision. Three months later, we heard the answer that no one wants to hear: it was stage IIIB colon cancer. My 79-year-old mother was going to have to have surgery and chemo.
SEE ALSO (VIP): Caregiver's Diary Part 28: Three Years Ago
Though she's experienced a few scattered minor nausea moments here and there since then, none of them have come anywhere close to the ones she went through before her diagnosis.
Until Saturday night.
We'd just enjoyed a full day of watching the snow continuously come down for hours on end, and the birds as they swarmed the feeders to fuel up and stock up, when Mom told me that her stomach wasn't feeling well. When she walked back into the living room from the trip to the bathroom, I could tell something was wrong.
As she sat down in her recliner, she told me to hand her the small waste basket we keep in the living room for paper trash. "I feel so sick," she told me, her voice sounding weak. "I may need this."
She also asked for a nausea pill, something she's rarely had to take since she was on chemo. We've kept them for "just in case" situations, and this was one of them. Not even five minutes later, she had to use the waste basket. Several times.
Needless to say, I was on high alert at this point, having flashbacks to all the times this scenario had happened in 2021 and 2022. Mom has had good labs and CT scans since she completed chemo, but the possibility that the "c" word can flare up again is always in the back of our minds.
Fortunately, I knew how to handle the situation. I gave her some Gatorade and ginger ale, and she alternated between the two. I also made sure she was covered by a couple of throw blankets while in the recliner, so she could get warm again. By the time she went to bed, she was feeling much better, and this morning, she was more like her normal self.
But I spent part of the night sleepless, with the "what ifs" rolling through my mind. I was also trying to come up with reasons why this could have happened that didn't involve the "c" word. It's entirely possible that it was a food buildup over the course of a few days that ultimately did not sit well on her stomach. I know that's happened to me before when I eat things like spicy food several times a week, but it just hasn't led to nausea episodes for me. And once I went on a bland diet again, the issues would clear up.
Mom has an oncology appointment in a month, where they are going to do more bloodwork than they typically do. Usually, it's just three tests that are done, including the one for the CEA number. But roughly once a year, they run a few more tests to check some other things as well.
Needless to say, this has made me a little more anxious than normal about that appointment. But sitting here in the light of day and taking in God's magnificent artwork outside after 10" of snow, I'm saying prayers and trying to remain calm and not overly worry, because mom needs that kind of caregiver in her life, not the same one who - prior to her diagnosis - would openly walk around the house panicking and feeling helpless, which undoubtedly added to her already high stress levels.
Just took a measurement. 9.5" and still falling. University area. Was able to clear off by the front door. @AlConklin @wxbrad #cltwx #ncwx #snOMG pic.twitter.com/2MsdUVFAcm
— Sister Toldjah 💙 (@sistertoldjah) January 31, 2026
This is the growth you go through as a caregiver, I suppose. Life experiences and knowledge shape how you respond to future medical situations. Lord willing, we seem to have gotten through this one, and obviously, we're praying it's nothing more serious than food that didn't agree with her. If it happens again before her next appointment, though, we'll try to get it bumped up.
But man, are my nerves shot. I'm hoping that going out later today to do some snow shoveling will work off some of the tension and give me something else to think about.
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