23rd May 2013
Mum seems to have gone into a bubble where no one can reach her today, She sits looking out of the window next to her bed just gazing not really focusing on anything. She grabs our hands and holds them just that little bit tighter than normal.
The doctor comes round again in the morning and says to Mum she needs to have a biopsy to determine what type of cancer she has and how aggressive. My Mum barely says a word at this point so my sister and I ask when will the biopsy be and where about on the body. We are also very concerned whether Mum is fit enough since she was on oxygen all the time and back to back nebulisers, They say the biopsy is essential and it will be done in the next few days. Its very hard watching Mum today you can see the upset in her eyes over her diagnosis. Life seems so unfiar my mum should be having her time in life now after raising my sister and I and caring for my Dad for the past 35 years and nursing my Dad throughout his decline into vascular dementia in 2011. Dad passed away in December 2011 and we never thought we'd be going through facing losing mum so soon afterwards.
24th May 2013
I find myself walking around in a haze today, I keep finding tears running down my face. The thought of losing my dearest Mum is hitting home.Today is the day they are going to scan mums neck to see if there is any sign of cancer there and do a biopsy. Mums terrified and asks me to go with her when they do it. so we sit and wait for the moment they decide to come and get mums bed and take it to the radiology department. We go down in the lift hands clinging on to each other as mum is wheeled through the hospital. I tell Mum my sister is on her way also (I had orders to text her as soon as we knew when mum was going down).My sister arrives just as we go in. I hold mums hand and tell her breath calmly as we do our in and out breathing routine which helps keep her from panicking as the radiologist starts the scan.
Bit of a mixed reaction on what comes next. she says she cant do the biopsy as the neck looks clear from tumours. So one minute we are overjoyed there is no cancer there then the next upset that we now have to wait even longer for full diagnosis and treatment options if there are any. We all return to the ward knowing that mum now faces a risky liver biopsy to determine what cancer she has . Risky because of the fact mums breathing is at 33 breath per minute which means her liver would be wobbling around like a jelly whilst they try to put a needle into it. The risk of tearing her liver is a very real one.
