And The Hits Just Keep On Coming.

Well, things have been pretty up-and-down since my last post, as is to be expected, I guess.

My mother finally had her appointment with the oncologist. It’s Stage Two Ovarian Cancer, which in terms of stages anyhow, is somewhat good news. As far as they know, it hasn’t spread beyond where it was found and that relatively, it’s in the early stages, so the better her chances are at beating this thing. She’ll be having chemotherapy, of course. Her first session will be later this week, I believe. Then she’ll have two more sessions, after which she has to have another surgery to remove her uterus and complete the partial hysterectomy she had in her previous surgery last month. Why they didn’t just take everything when they were in there last time is beyond me, but these doctors–in my opinion–are–to put it nicely–friggin idiots. I say that because they are. Or most of them are, I should say. I mean, it’s hard enough to find out that your mother has been diagnosed with cancer, but to find out that it could and SHOULD have been detected far sooner than it was–now that’s just unacceptable. The doctors found the cysts back in February and despite the fact that she’d gone to the Emergency Room on several different occasions because of the pain the cysts were causing—and despite the fact that the cysts her found to be growing at a rapid rate each time they did their sonograms and tests—AND despite the history of ovarian cancer in the family (my maternal great-grandmother died from Ovarian Cancer the year I was born)–despite ALL OF THAT, no one ever mentioned the c-word…or even tested her blood for abnormal levels of the cancer antigen. Could they have prevented her from getting cancer–probably not, but they sure as hell could have prevented it from spreading as it has to get to this point. If that’s not medical malpractice and negligence, I don’t know what is.  I get that doctors are human and that they too, sometimes make mistakes…but come on. This is just ridiculous. Really. You’re holding a person’s life in your hands…you can’t afford to make easy mistakes such as not running a simple blood test. To say that it’s just a mistake is bullshit. It’s careless medicine. Once my mother beats this, and I have to have faith that she will, she should sue the idiot doctors that missed the diagnosis and brushed off her worries every time she went to be seen. At the very least, she should sue them. Granted, it won’t change what she’s had to go through, or will continue to go through even after the cancer’s beat…but it’s something.

Unfortunately, there’s only bad news to report for my uncle Dick. He’s not doing good at all. We all got together at his and my aunt’s place, like we always do, for the annual family Memorial Day cookout last week. My brother-in-law took over the cooking, which normally would have been my uncle’s task…one that he, naturally, wasn’t up to this year. As happy as I know he was to see and have everyone there, he wasn’t in good shape. He spent most of the day in the house, away from the festivities, on his oxygen because the wind and fresh air was just too much for him. It was hard to see him like that…like this, to see him barely holding on. It just feels wrong, you know? Wrong. My sister and I stopped in with the kids Friday afternoon since we were in the area so he could see the boys, but he was sleeping on the couch and though we stuck around awhile, he didn’t wake up to see them. My aunt told my sister that they’d gone and made the funeral arrangements just a few days before…and that she didn’t think he had much longer. We were all hoping he’d at least have the summer, but it doesn’t look like he’ll be having even that. It was horrible, seeing my aunt stand there crying, admitting that she’d started having panic attacks in light of everything and that she didn’t know what she was going to do–God, it was hell. It really was. More so in that I don’t have the slightest idea of what to say to her. I really, really don’t.

It’s just sad, all around.

And to top it all off, I’m hobbling around again with this damn hurt ankle of mine. Went to see the ortho surgeon again on Friday, and yet again–surgery was suggested and shot down…by me, AGAIN. They did more x-rays, which found a healing fracture that had until then, gone undetected…which suggests that when I fell back in November, the bone was in fact, broken…and they never caught it. Which is just freaking wonderful, isn’t it? Oh yeah. And then there’s the matter of the ligaments and cartilage that’s all messed up in there. Since I shot down the surgery option, the doc suggested a cortisone injection for the pain. Stupid me, I went for it. I figured, what the hell. It’s just a shot…it can’t be that bad. Yeah…bad assumption on my part. Big time. First off–I nearly passed out when I saw the size of that needle. And screw that numbing spray–I felt EVERYTHING as she kept pulling the needle out and moving it around in there until there was literally a huge lump of cortisone inside my ankle. By the time I got home, my ankle was throbbing. I figured it was nothing and just wrote it off as having just had a huge ass needle stuck inside my ankle…but it got worse. It’s been hurting like a bitch–pardon my language–ever since. So needless to say, pain killers have been my bestest friend these past 48 hours. So since I’ve been laid up (because walking around is NOT an option) I decided to do a little research on it. Lo and behold, I found that it’s quite common…pain after a cortisone injection. It’s called a “steroid flare”, I believe. It can last anywhere from a few hours to a few weeks…which isn’t a very comforting thought. Especially since my doctor said NOTHING about it before giving me the shot. Absolutely nothing. She simply said that the shot should help take away the ankle pain…not that the shot will CAUSE more/worse pain. If I’d known that, believe me, I never would have agreed to it. Especially since the pain I’m having now is twice that of the pain I was having BEFORE I got the shot. I mean, the whole point is to eliminate the pain, not ADD to it, you know? So yeah, I’m in a bit of a narcotic-fog while I type this, but it’s unavoidable. Hopefully, this “steroid flare” doesn’t last much longer and the cortisone works as it was intended to. Here’s me hoping…

‘Til next time.

Always, xoxo MESSIE


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