Tuesday, 30. November 2004
Happy Dance

~Everett on his 12th birthday ~

Tuesday, Nov. 30, 2004
9 a.m.

“The family doctor wants to put her in the hospital,” Dad said on the phone yesterday afternoon.

“I’m coming over.” I threw pyjamas and my toothbrush into a bag, wrote a cheque for December’s rent, left it on the desk, and bolted out the door.

Hospice nurses have been at Mom and Dad’s every day. They have put “butterfly” needles into each of her shoulders; one for nausea, one for pain. The needles stay there and we can administer the drugs ourselves easily. Mom has had several comfortable days and nights now.

Joan and Karen both came over yesterday too and together we waited with Dad for the oncologist to call. Without her agreement, Mom didn’t want to go to the hospital. First she and Dad wanted the results of Friday’s c.t. scan, and then Dad wanted all the doctors to be agreed and advising the same thing.

Mom attempted to leave her bedroom, but the movement made her sick right away so back to bed she went, and kicked us all out of there so she could sleep.

The oncologist called just after five, and Dad took the phone and went into another room to talk with her. When he came out, it was to announce that Mom’s remaining six tumours have all shrunk, and the doctor wants to keep her on the experimental drug.

All four of us danced our way into Mom’s room to tell her the good news. She was happy of course, but soon evicted us again so she could sleep. The drugs make her groggy.

So it’s good news. The drug is doing what it’s hoped it would. The abdominal pain and nausea could be caused by drugs, or there could be some other problem -- that’s what further tests will be for.

But the drug is doing something. Woo hoo!

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