Well THAT sucked

I almost threw a party at the end of January, just to say goodbye to one of the worst months in my life. Almost. Ok, not really.

My mother had been feeling ill for "a little over a month," but hadn't seen a Doctor. She said her symptoms kept changing, so she thought she had a cold, or a flu, or whatever, and didn't want to waste money on a Doctor. I can see her point, but when she started naming her symptoms, I started to get nervous, and pissy.
She had had a low grade fever for basically the entire month of December. In addition, she said it felt like her ribs might have been broken, because it was difficult for her to breath and her mid section was very sore. I found out later that her stomach had been distended/swollen and painful, also. Nothing tasted good, she was tired, everything hurt, stuff like that. After talking with her, I made her promise to go to a Doctor. This was the beginning of January.

She finally goes, and they send her from the Urgent Care to the ER. From the ER they admitted her to the hospital. She had sort of figured this was going to happen, which was another reason why she didn't want to go to the Dr. in the first place. At first she thought it was an issue with her gall bladder, like stones or something similar. She was almost right...she had gall bladder stones, but when they were doing the ultra-sound to look at her gall bladder, they started checking other things. When they asked her if she had ever had a history of scerosis, she knew things were a little more complicated. No, she did not have a history of scerosis...and why are you looking at her liver? What is up with her liver?

She was admitted to the hospital, given some pain meds and LOTS of fluids, and was under constant watch. Being admitted to the hospital is no small thing. Being kept there day after day, with no real news, is a pretty big deal, also. They don't keep healthy people in the hospital.

They ran tests. And tests. And more tests. Then they started getting into more complicated things, like biopsies.

Her Dr. didn't "officially" know what was going, but the theory was that is was cancer. In her liver. Probably in other places. He looked very grim when telling her and I his theory.
I hate theories. Especially when they are about my mother, who is lying in a hospital bed. Give me facts. FACTS! You have had her here an F'n week! And all you have are maybes? Grr.

She was going to start chemo therapy the following week. Based on a theory. Great.

Finally she was able to go home, after a week in the hospital, and even then the staff was hesitant to let her go home. I found out why when we met with her Dr a couple of days later. They had the results of her liver biopsy, and a few other tests....

The Dr. said that a picture is worth a thousand words, and that it would be easier to explain the situation while he was showing us pictures of my mother's liver. Sure, this can't be so bad, right? First mistake. That was the worst picture I have ever seen, and I had seen the pictures of the cancer in my Old Man's lungs. This was a thousand times worse for me, and for her probably. At first it didn't look too bad! There were a few spots, but they were on the surface! With each picture we went a layer deeper into her liver. Each picture was filled with spots. Spots. Bigger spots. Finally it looked like there were more spots than there was liver. I stopped looking, I got the point. But wait! It gets worse!
The Dr. started saying that this was a "Carcenoma of Unknown Origin," meaning that this was not liver cancer. The cancer has started somewhere else, and has spread to her liver. At this point I sort of stopped listening.

There are a couple of scenes in the show "Breaking Bad" in which Walt, the main character, is getting news about his cancer. The Dr's are talking, but their voices fade out and all Walt can here is a buzz noise. The lights get bright, and he can't focus. It was a lot like that. I knew words were happening, and that I needed to be the smart one and take notes, but all I could think was that I needed to get as far away from this as possible. Instead, I had to take notes. I had to listen. I had to ask questions.

Biting my cheek to keep from crying, I tried focusing on what the Dr. was saying. The cancer was throughout her liver, and it was not good. It had probably spread to a few lymph nodes in her back, which would explain the back pain she was having. The best course of action was to start chemotherapy right away, but not radiation. She was going to start on a variety of medication, and was going to do at least three sessions of chemo, one session every 21 days. However, he STILL didn't know all the answers. He didn't know if it had spread, and if so, to where. He didn't know where it came from. He didn't know if chemo would work. He didn't know if chemo was going to be helpful, or detrimental. I hate the unknown, especially in this scenario.

So, I started asking questions. A saying I have is "Never ask questions you don't want to know the answers to," I remind myself of this often when I am about to open my mouth. I was not able to filter myself in time, and asked if thought how long my mom might have. I have never seen a Dr. tear up before...until then. He asked my mom if it was ok to talk about this with me, then told me exactly what I didn't want to hear. Without treatment she had weeks, maybe. With treatment, if it was effective, and if if if blah blah blah maybe she had a little over a year.
This is where my brain sort of snapped.

I know I took notes, I saw them later. My handwriting, my little pen and paper, so I must have written them. Mostly it was what medications were going to happen, when she was going to go to her first infusion, etc. I honestly don't remember what else he said. I didn't really care.

Since then she has started chemo, and is also getting Herceptin (which is supposed to up her chances like 80%?), and has been doing pretty well. My mother has been saying things like "I feel I have learned all there is to learn in this life," and similar little bits. At first it was upsetting, but now I kind of like it. Go ahead! Tempt fate! Tell the universe you are done! Maybe the universe will let you live longer, out of spite. Sometimes I feel the universe works out of spite, I am probably wrong. 


In 2005 my grandmother, who helped raise me, passed away. In 2009 my biological father killed himself. Later that same year my Old Man, who helped raise me, was diagnosed with lung cancer. My aunt, my mother's sister, had already been battling and beating breast cancer at this point. My Old Man beat his cancer! My aunt beat her cancer! Then my Old Man passed away in January of 2011. My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer three days after my Old Man passed away. She beat it? Since then my aunt's cancer seems to have returned, and seems to have spread. My mother now has this Carcinoma of an Unknown Origin. The last few years have been very hard, and January has been especially wonderful.

Anyway, she says she is feeling better. She is able to breath a little better, her back doesn't hurt as bad, and she has started another semester of college! She is taking classes, working, AND doing treatment. My family doesn't seem to understand moderation, or taking it easy on yourself. My aunt worked full time through her treatment, my Old Man pretty much did - as well as traveled, so...
She is feeling better and she seems to be doing better. She gets tired really easily, but going to school and working could easily make anyone tired, in addition to the treatment. Besides, January is over! Now we can move on to better days! Because F you January.