The new oncologist is a patient man, who was very willing to listen to mum describe her history and conditions. He is the kind of doctor mum needs in preparation for the final leg of her journey, the kind i hope can give her assurance and confidence, no matter what happens from now. In the final leg of life, is not assurance and confidence what we need, along side love and companionship? He is the kind of doctor I have been hoping will listen and advise, and will be Frank with mum. Because secrets and the unsaid can do so much more damage.
The MRI scan that was conducted at the beginning of the month revealed a blockage in the front section of the duodenum leading from the stomach. What is for certain but almost relatively clear, pending confirmation from a biopsy that was taken during yesterday's endoscop, is that the blockage is due to a tumour growing there. Whether it is a new instance of cancer or something that spread from the original site of mum's cancer in the colon is uncertain. It doesn't really matter.
What matters is that with the blockage into the duodenum mum simply cannot eat and simply cannot digest anything, which means she is not getting any vital nutrients to sustain her bodily functions... and what happens when you cannot eat or drink properly? You weaken and you die.
Surgery is the only wat to deal with the problem, either by removing the blockage or by creating a bypass duct to allow food to circumvent the blockage enter the duodenum. The feasibility of the operation and how deeply the surgery can remove the problem epends on an assessment of mum's health condition (which terrible...) and on whether it is worth conducting such an invasive surgery. This can only be assessed by the gastroenterologist, and there is an appointment planned for tomorrow.
The oncologist was very frank with mum after looking at her medical records and noting the treatments she has undergone. She has really done every type of treatment there is, but the cancer keeps on returning and more aggressive. Without solving the eating problem, everything else, including possible followup treatment to contain mum's cancer, is not even worth mentioning or discussing at this point.
I was extremely disheartened, even to the point of being able to hear my heart break deep down inside... mum has gone through so much, so much already, but there is now even more ordeal to overcome? What is wrong with the universe to throw so much at mum, and indirectly at me...? I looked at mum's face as she walked slowly away from the consultation room. We were silent on the entire journey home. It was a journey we have taken before together. The long, long journey home after receiving a warning sentence on your life and happiness.
How does one face all this without flinching? How does one receive such news without being affected or dragged down to the depths of despair?
We got home and I closed the door behind us.
I gave mum a long overdue hug.
A hug to help both of us calm down. A hug to help us both face a new reality we did not foresee and could not prepare for. A hug, filled with unspoken love and care to receive mum I will be with through this and a whirling more.
