Post by Hath on Jan 9, 2013 7:14:24 GMT -6
The Wednesday before Christmas, my mom went into the hospital for tests as she’d been sick for 6-7 weeks prior, and her abdomen had swelled. The doctors thought she had herniated something or had an impacted bowel. The tests showed she had tumors throughout her midsection and into her lungs.
My family went to the oncologist just after New Year’s– my brother and I along with Mom and Dad. The diagnosis is stage IV ovarian cancer. There’s a softball-sized tumor where her right ovary should be, and the cancer has spread into the lining that surrounds the intestines and into her lungs. Her liver and pancreas are still clear but she’s got a lot of fluid build-up from the tumor, and is very uncomfortable though not in pain. The prognosis isn’t good. The doctor said she will have no problem coming to NC with me (and my son Jeffrey) in February, but when Mom told the doctor she wanted to still be around until my husband Eric and Jeffrey moved down to NC with me in June, we got a ‘let’s see what the chemo will do’.
There are no surgical options for her, nor is radiation an option – they’d end up irradiating her entire torso, which would cause more damage. She will be on a weekly schedule to drain the fluid from her abdomen (the first week, they drained four liters of fluid – she left the hospital 10 pounds lighter than when she went in), and a three-week schedule for chemo. The first step was the stent they inserted under her collarbone yesterday. We’re meeting the oncologist again next week to get the schedule for the treatments themselves. She’ll lose her hair, and the doctor said that the particular combination of drugs they’ll give her have been “good” at killing ovarian cancer in the past, but where it’s so pervasive throughout her body, there are no promises.
I’m waiting until March to broach the subject with my company of delaying my departure for NC. If my mother only has a few months left to live, I’d rather not be 800 miles away. But, as I said, I want to wait to see how the chemo goes, and how she’s feeling. Knowing my mother, she’ll demand I go as planned. Jeffrey was devastated when we told him (as expected), but is doing better. We’ve got an appointment with his therapist tomorrow; hopefully we can work through some coping mechanisms with him.
We’re taking it a day at a time at this point. Hopefully she tolerates the chemo well, and the draining and diuretics she’s on will help with the fluid. She really does feel ‘fine’, all things considered. If she hadn’t swelled up, we never would have known she had the cancer. She could have had it for years, and it went undetected because she hadn’t been to a doctor in decades.
If you have a prayer to spare, I’d appreciate one of strength and peace for my family as we go through this difficult time.
Thank you,
Jennifer
My family went to the oncologist just after New Year’s– my brother and I along with Mom and Dad. The diagnosis is stage IV ovarian cancer. There’s a softball-sized tumor where her right ovary should be, and the cancer has spread into the lining that surrounds the intestines and into her lungs. Her liver and pancreas are still clear but she’s got a lot of fluid build-up from the tumor, and is very uncomfortable though not in pain. The prognosis isn’t good. The doctor said she will have no problem coming to NC with me (and my son Jeffrey) in February, but when Mom told the doctor she wanted to still be around until my husband Eric and Jeffrey moved down to NC with me in June, we got a ‘let’s see what the chemo will do’.
There are no surgical options for her, nor is radiation an option – they’d end up irradiating her entire torso, which would cause more damage. She will be on a weekly schedule to drain the fluid from her abdomen (the first week, they drained four liters of fluid – she left the hospital 10 pounds lighter than when she went in), and a three-week schedule for chemo. The first step was the stent they inserted under her collarbone yesterday. We’re meeting the oncologist again next week to get the schedule for the treatments themselves. She’ll lose her hair, and the doctor said that the particular combination of drugs they’ll give her have been “good” at killing ovarian cancer in the past, but where it’s so pervasive throughout her body, there are no promises.
I’m waiting until March to broach the subject with my company of delaying my departure for NC. If my mother only has a few months left to live, I’d rather not be 800 miles away. But, as I said, I want to wait to see how the chemo goes, and how she’s feeling. Knowing my mother, she’ll demand I go as planned. Jeffrey was devastated when we told him (as expected), but is doing better. We’ve got an appointment with his therapist tomorrow; hopefully we can work through some coping mechanisms with him.
We’re taking it a day at a time at this point. Hopefully she tolerates the chemo well, and the draining and diuretics she’s on will help with the fluid. She really does feel ‘fine’, all things considered. If she hadn’t swelled up, we never would have known she had the cancer. She could have had it for years, and it went undetected because she hadn’t been to a doctor in decades.
If you have a prayer to spare, I’d appreciate one of strength and peace for my family as we go through this difficult time.
Thank you,
Jennifer
