October 19, 2005

  • I think that maybe it’s good to have someone in the family
    that’s well versed in medicine when a loved one goes through a medical crisis.  I think it’s a hard thing to be that person.
    When Mom, still under the effect of conscience sedation, was
    told by her endoscopist that he thought she had a cancer arising from her
    ampula of vater, it for the most part didn’t register.  Only the word cancer registered and as she
    wept she said “call my son”.
    In unadulterated, clinical, doctor terminology, he told me
    that she appeared to have a cancer arising from this location.  My response was “Oh, my God”.  I understood completely what this meant, not
    just from a pathologic standpoint, but from the point of view of someone that
    has assisted in operations for this and someone that has sat through tumor
    boards talking about the prognosis of this, and someone that has seen the pain
    and suffering and prolonged death of people with this.   And then, there was the son too.  He didn’t get too much time in this scenario.
    I tried to explain to my siblings, my Mom, and other
    relatives what this meant.  I tried to do
    it in frank, up-beat terms.  The glass is
    half full. Things sometimes turn out better than you think.  But dark clouds of remembrance and knowledge
    settled over me.  But I just sucked those
    clouds in.  I ate it all and hoped for
    the best, after all, I’m a son, not a doctor. 
    Yeah, whatever.  I’ve cried with
    patients that weren’t related with better prognoses.

    I think that doctors delivering care for these patients are
    actually relieved when there’s a doctor on the other end.  It’s hard to explain complicated surgical and
    anatomic pathology to grieving relatives. 
    It’s easier to explain it in medical terms to a relative and have them
    release it to the rest on a titrated basis, with just a touch of optimism.  I had actually drawn out the anatomy of what
    was happening for my Mom and other relatives. 
    A day later the surgeon came in and drew the same picture, but he didn’t
    draw in the head and butt like I did to try and generate some laughs.   Whatever, the glass is half full, plus he
    probably sucks as an artist.
    When the surgeon came to the waiting room and told us how
    the operation went, he talked to the group, but primarily to me.  My sister needed a family leave form filled
    out to explain why she required this day off. 
     After she explained that if he
    just signed it, I could fill out the rest of the form, he seemed relieved.  I don’t blame him.  I would have been relieved too.

    And the doctor filled out the form . . . but the son
    wrestled with his thoughts.Things have not gone so well since the initial surgery,
    but there are lots of reasons for hope. 
    I understand this on a medical basis, but I long to divorce myself from
    this doctor point of view and just be a son. 
    I just want to look in my Mom’s eyes and be her son, nothing more,
    nothing less.

Comments (13)

  • It must be tough. I hope things work out.

  • Sometimes a little bit (or a lot, like in your case) of medical knowledge can be both a blessing and a  curse. Hope that everything turns out well...

  • I hope the doctor gets to deliver great news and the son gets to breath a sigh of relief.  I hope she gets better.

  • Just Keep in mind Her son is a Doctor and I am sure that it gives her some mesure of comfort that you are....strength for you my friend doctor and son are one and the same

  • (((hug)))

    Sending positive thoughts your way.

  • Oh my God, that really puts my life in perspective. My prayers are with you.

  • It is never easy having that knowledge...

  • Oh Bob. Your post has brought back my thoughts and feelings when I read about the cancer my dad had (esophagael). My thoughts and prayers are with you.

  • I hope that your hope will be justified.  I think it would be immeasurably harder to have that knowledge.

  • I'm so sorry to hear that you're in that situation, but I'm glad that your family has someone like you through this difficult time.

    My thoughts go out to you, your family, and especially your mother.  May she have a full recovery.

  • Bob, I'm so sorry. I will keep all of you in my thoughts and prayers.

  • I wish you and your mother and the rest the best of all possible results. Going through this is never easy for anyone involved. The best that my experience can suggest is that, sooner or later, all of this will pass, the pain will fade, and all that is left is the love and memories of times much better, times when you were just her little boy and her eyes glowed with the joy having a son such as you. In the meantime, I wish you peace and hope.

  • I wish things go well for you.  During the situation for my daughter I would have liked to traded places as far as the doctor knowledge. I feel drs. tend to leave out things from non-dr people. Some of us our intelligent enough to understand if you would give us enough information.  Usually you get enough to make things worse - the danger of ignorance.  Be glad you understand - I do get what you're saying - but what if you didn't have the dr background - where would you be - you probably have contacts you wouldn't otherwise have that can be useful in many ways!  Take care!

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