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Oct. 14th, 2004 05:23 pmNot really sure how to go about writing this entry. It's not exactly brightness and light today.
Between April and July, my mom was dealing with small-cell cancer of the lungs. I didn't make much of it since the prognosis was good and she reacted very very well to the treatments. A couple months ago, after some fairly intense chemo- and radiotherapy, the doctors stated that the cancer had been eliminated, we were all happy, and we thought that was that. End one mildly distressing chapter, and move on. As I said, I wasn't too worried about it so I didn't make much of it.
A couple of weeks ago, she started showing signs of weakness, started having headaches and dizziness, and found it harder to keep her balance. These became worse in the past few days. Today we brought her to the hospital to get her neurosurgeon to look at her. A CAT scan seemed to indicate irregularities in her brain tissue. The ER doctor mentioned the possibility of brain lesions related to the cancer.
I don't really know why I'm writing this. We don't know anything yet, and any angsting I could do would be badly premature. I could complain of how unfair it is, that we just got out of one medical crisis to just be hit with a bigger one, but we don't even know that much now. Maybe some part of me wants to complain just 'cause. I don't know. Right now I don't know entirely what to make of this, especially since we still don't really know what's wrong.
She's in the hospital for now and will be there under observation. They're doing a detailed MRI scan and will get all that various doctors involved in her case going on finding what's wrong. Right now all we can do is really just wait.
I hate waiting for things like this. It's like waiting for the guy holding the gun to your head to pull the trigger. It's like waiting for the professor grading your final exam in front of you to paint a big 'F' on it with the red pen he's holding. It's like waiting for that supertanker coming at you from at constant bearing on your starboard bow to hit your hull. It's like waiting for... well. It's just waiting.
Pax.
Between April and July, my mom was dealing with small-cell cancer of the lungs. I didn't make much of it since the prognosis was good and she reacted very very well to the treatments. A couple months ago, after some fairly intense chemo- and radiotherapy, the doctors stated that the cancer had been eliminated, we were all happy, and we thought that was that. End one mildly distressing chapter, and move on. As I said, I wasn't too worried about it so I didn't make much of it.
A couple of weeks ago, she started showing signs of weakness, started having headaches and dizziness, and found it harder to keep her balance. These became worse in the past few days. Today we brought her to the hospital to get her neurosurgeon to look at her. A CAT scan seemed to indicate irregularities in her brain tissue. The ER doctor mentioned the possibility of brain lesions related to the cancer.
I don't really know why I'm writing this. We don't know anything yet, and any angsting I could do would be badly premature. I could complain of how unfair it is, that we just got out of one medical crisis to just be hit with a bigger one, but we don't even know that much now. Maybe some part of me wants to complain just 'cause. I don't know. Right now I don't know entirely what to make of this, especially since we still don't really know what's wrong.
She's in the hospital for now and will be there under observation. They're doing a detailed MRI scan and will get all that various doctors involved in her case going on finding what's wrong. Right now all we can do is really just wait.
I hate waiting for things like this. It's like waiting for the guy holding the gun to your head to pull the trigger. It's like waiting for the professor grading your final exam in front of you to paint a big 'F' on it with the red pen he's holding. It's like waiting for that supertanker coming at you from at constant bearing on your starboard bow to hit your hull. It's like waiting for... well. It's just waiting.
Pax.
