Good News, Bad News and Mum

June 2010

It turns out that Mum has had a number of strokes, but the bigger issue is that the strokes are probably being caused by cancer.

I'm sure that has shocked a lot of you reading this, and I'm sorry about that, but I needed to get the toughest bits out of the way upfront, and there is no point in being coy about it. 

Had I wanted to be coy, I would have opened with the observation of how many of those familiar old  "Good News/Bad News" jokes take place in the hospital. And this is a good news/bad news story in some ways -  it just lacks a happy ending.

The good news is that Mum survived her stroke. God bless her friends Lorraine and Judy for checking in on her and getting her to the hospital. The damage to Mum's language centre is causing aphasia, which means she can comprehend what is being said to her, but she can't always articulate what she wants to say. This would be frustrating to anyone, but for someone as gregarious and quick-witted as Mum, it feels extra harsh, and will probably be permanent to some degree.

Her thalamus has also taken a shock, which means she is unable to create new memories, just a little bit like the movie Memento. This is less likely to be permanent and often diminishes a few days after the stroke.

A speech pathologist did a swallowing assessment on Mum Tuesday morning and was worried that she might not be able to prevent liquids from going down her windpipe and giving her pneumonia on top of everything else. (Sidebar: when the pathologist started talking about Mum's tongue not being very strong, I swear I heard my father's laugh... and when I mentioned it to her later, I said he would have asked: "never mind how strong, is it still as sharp as it was?") She ordered another test for the next day (VFSS - videofluoroscopy swallow study), and positive results for that meant she could have solid food for the first time since probably Saturday. I mean, not that she wanted any, but still.

Today the occupational therapist and physical therapist got her into a wheelchair, the first time she has been out of a stretcher or gurney since Sunday night. They said strength is slowly returning to her right arm, although it is still awfully weak, and that they may try standing tomorrow morning. So there is good news to be had.

As far as the bad news goes, the doctor in Leduc told Mum on Sunday night (prior to the discovery of her strokes) that in addition to the clotting in her lungs there appeared to be a mass on her pancreas that they'd been lucky to spot, since that wasn't the focus of the CT scan.

She took it in stride, honestly, saying she'd "almost wondered" about it since pancreatic cancer had also killed her father, something I'd never known.

Tara and I met with a gastroenterologist yesterday who showed us the CT scan and pointed out the masses on her pancreas, liver, stomach and other areas of her abdomen. We can't get an official diagnosis without a biopsy, and that can't be done until she is a bit stronger, but in the opinion of him and the radiologist, it is 80-90 percent likely to be pancreatic cancer. Because it has spread to other organs, this means it is at stage IV, which means it is both inoperable and incurable.

And for better or worse, that is the way Tara and I found out that our mother only has months to live.

That's been a tough pill to swallow, obviously. And talking to Mum about it yesterday wasn't easy either since she had forgotten being told about the mass on Sunday night. She took it pretty well, again, but I suspect that this is a conversation Tara and I will need to have at least one more time.

Thank God Tara is here; I don't how I could face this without having her here. She brought Mum's little dog Willow into the ward today, which put the biggest smile on Mum's face since this whole ordeal began. Her husband Jerry will be arriving tomorrow night as well, and Mum has had a few other visitors too.

I refuse to end on the bad news side of things so let me just say this: things could be worse. We could have lost Mum outright on Sunday morning. She could have been left incapable of communication or completely paralyzed. Her stroke symptoms could have worsened over the week, instead of improving as they have.

Where there is life, there is hope. Remission is probably too much to hope for, but we have time together and have fair warning of what lies ahead. Mum is not alone. In addition to us, she has more family, and extended family, and acquaintances, and more friends than you can shake a stick at.

Thank you to everyone who has sent their kind thoughts, warm wishes, gracious prayers, positive energy and good vibes - we will take all we can get, and I know Mum appreciates it. For now, the focus will be on recovering from her stroke, and that probably means another week or two spent in the neurological ward with tests and evaluation and scans and therapy.

I still firmly believe that love is the most powerful force in the universe. It might not be enough to beat the prognosis she is facing, but we are confident it will give us all the strength we need to face it. 

December 2017