Retroexposure

The Battle - A Mother's Fight Against Cancer: From a Son's Perspective

Prologue

For several weeks, Mum has been in a lot of pain. The only way that she finds that she can ease this pain, is by sleeping her way through it. It all started with a portion of fish.
It was in that fish and chip meal that we'd had around the last week of July. In Mum's portion of fish was a 'foreign body'. In other words it was a piece of plastic that was imbedded inside the white meat of the fish. I phoned the complaints line the following day.
A few days later, Mum started feeling the initial effects from the foreign body. We assumed it was the fish. For several days, stretching into weeks, Mum refused to go to the doctor's mainly for financial reasons, as we can't always afford a taxi up to our doctor's surgery. Mum can't walk very far without assistance. Actually, she can't walk very far with assistance, unless it's down hill. Our nearest bus stop is at the top of the hill!
After about two weeks, Mum caved in and we called out one of the practice doctors. When she arrived, I left them to it, to do the examination privately. Mum told me afterwards that the doctor said that she might have a urinary tract infection. And subsequently provided the necessary antibiotics.
Several weeks passed, with Mum's pain getting worse and worse. In that time, Mum had been taken into hospital for 24 hours with an SVT, which is connected to heart problems. And as that took priority, Mum didn't really mention the stomach problems that she'd been suffering with.
Another couple of weeks passed and Mum's pain had remained consistently painful. We called the doctor out again, and it was the same one. She, again, diagnosed a urinary tract infection. Mum at this point, was not only in pain and angry but slightly confused too! Since when did pains above the diaphragm and stomach (around where her scars are), mean that it was connected to the bladder and urinary tract? The following week, Mum must have rung the surgery again, because she was told to expect a nurse to come round and take a blood test. Mum always feels awkward having to keep calling out the doctor, but when you are practically house bound, what else can you do?
The nurse came on the Monday morning. By Thursday, the surgery must have had the test results, because the doctor that had diagnosed a UTI, twice, called in a panic! At least that's how it seemed. When she first called that morning, Mum answered, and as I understand it, the doctor said that the results brought up some queries that needed looking into. An hour or so later she called again. This time I answered and she asked me if it was ok to make a home visit in the afternoon as she had some admin paperwork to do. I said that that would be ok. So I was quite surprised to see her turn on the doorstep fifteen minutes later. The admin could wait - this couldn't, apparently!
She wasn't joking either. After talking with her colleagues, the doctor said that the blood tests had worried her to the extent that she was booking an ambulance to take Mum into hospital as soon as possible. Ok! This was looking serious! With the ambulance being a while, we had time to prepare, so we packed a bag of things Mum would need for the hospital. 4pm that afternoon, the ambulance control phoned us to say that an ambulance would be with us shortly. 'Shortly' is right! 10 minutes later a vehicle was on our doorstep! By 4:30pm Mum was on her way to the General Hospital.
Mum had to stay in over the weekend as an ultrasound that was required, couldn't be done till Monday morning. A couple of family friends, Anne and Peter, made sure that I was able to see Mum as often as I possibly could during her stay.
On Monday morning, Mum had her ultrasound scan. Later that day the results were told to her. She had some 'unusual looking' cysts on her stomach and pancreas, that needed further investigation – a CT scan. So the following day, on the Tuesday she had the scan.
On Wednesday, during the doctor's early morning ward rounds, they told Mum some bad news. The CT scan had picked up raised lymph nodes. Had Mum been fighting a cold or an infection, it would make sense. But as she wasn't, it meant only one other thing. Cancer. The doctor reassured her that that wasn't necessarily the case, but the would organise a biopsy as soon as possible. With Mum being beside herself with worry, naturally, the ward sister and nurses allowed her to contact me and get me in to see her, outside visiting hours. Anne and Peter came to my rescue again. They were going to be busy that afternoon and wouldn't have been able to help me, but I was able to call them in time to speed me up to the hospital to see Mum. After leaving her later that day, as she had to get herself prepared for the biopsy the following day, I recall wandering around town in a daze really. Cancer. Mum. FUCK!!! I couldn't get my head around it. Cancer runs in the family, especially on Mum's side as her parents, my grandparents, died of cancer.
The following day, Mum had had the biopsy and was told that the results would be in, in a few weeks – that's torture in itself. That meant that Mum could come home. As she was leaving, Mum was told to expect a phone call from the consultant's secretary. So a week later, Mum was practically climbing the walls every time the phone rang - and when it did, it was those annoying automated phone calls. She was getting really pissed off!! Then last week, Friday, 3 weeks after the colonoscopy biopsy, Mum got a letter in the post saying that results were in and an appointment was booked for the 25th November. D-Day. Mum had already, in her own mind, known what the result was going to be. Her abdominal pains had been worse than ever. So if it wasn't what she thought it was, then what the hell could it be?
Come Tuesday 25th November 2008, Mum would find out and have this date etched on her memory.
The following will be a diary of events seen through my eyes.