not much time for an update
I really need to be working. I've gotten so little done this week. But I also need to take a few minutes and write about my dad.
I took him to an appointment at his PCP's office on Tuesday (which feels like forever ago) and his doctor referred him on an emergency basis to the dermatologist, because the "rash" - one can't even really call it that - on his scalp had progressed so dramatically and it had become clear that it was not shingles with a secondary infection. I will gloss over the fact that the doctor and my mom got into sort of an awkward, heated discussion about who was to blame for letting it get that bad without more intervention. The answer, of course, is no one, but they were playing hot potato with the blame anyhow. The doctor honestly didn't know what he was looking at; my mom listened to the doctor when he said it was shingles and followed the home care protocol he had given her. Daddy was on antibiotics and antivirals for five days with no improvement, but there was a follow-up appointment set up for Tuesday and we brought him as scheduled... no one knew what we were dealing with here. The doctor was so incredibly defensive, and then became kind of offensive, and I am not writing any more about that because it makes me pretty freaking mad.
So the dermatologist appointment was first thing yesterday, and the dermatologist took one look and said, "Lymphoma." Apparently a rare but known manifestation of lymphoma. So now, he has a mass in his abdomen and this horror show on his head, and it is all one big cancer. She did a biopsy, but we haven't had a chance to hear anything back about that.
The oncology appointment was supposed to be Friday, but I think either the PCP or the dermatologist may have intervened there, because a magical opening popped up yesterday afternoon. The oncology appointment was LONG. Afterward, the oncologist sent him directly to the hospital; he was admitted last night. Today they scanned everything, basically. CT scans and MRIs all over the place, and a lymph node biopsy on his neck. Tomorrow, a bone marrow biopsy, and I guess tomorrow we are going to find out where we stand. I know from some internet research that if the cancer is above and below the diaphragm (which it certainly appears to be) we are at least at Stage III. Right now all we know is that it's aggressive B-cell lymphoma, but there are a lot of different types of those. I am not a doctor. I remind myself of this 23534543 times a day, just like when I am on an airplane and I'm freaked out and I keep reminding myself I'm not the pilot, so I'm not in charge of making decisions.
Everything has moved unbelievably fast. I knew cancer could be "aggressive," but I had no clue that my dad could start deteriorating before my eyes, literally, within a matter of three weeks. He is weak, not eating, vomitting, stumbling when he tries to walk.
Last I heard they were going to start chemotherapy this weekend, and I think radiation too, although details are a bit fuzzy. I think they'll remain fuzzy until tomorrow afternoon.
I am typing this from some emotionless, matter-of-fact, clinical place inside myself. I alternate between this, and crying, and remembering things about my dad (he's still here!) and focusing on my mom and what I can do to help her.
I now have to go finish a presentation about an entirely different illness. Maybe, maybe, I can somehow find a way to focus.
I took him to an appointment at his PCP's office on Tuesday (which feels like forever ago) and his doctor referred him on an emergency basis to the dermatologist, because the "rash" - one can't even really call it that - on his scalp had progressed so dramatically and it had become clear that it was not shingles with a secondary infection. I will gloss over the fact that the doctor and my mom got into sort of an awkward, heated discussion about who was to blame for letting it get that bad without more intervention. The answer, of course, is no one, but they were playing hot potato with the blame anyhow. The doctor honestly didn't know what he was looking at; my mom listened to the doctor when he said it was shingles and followed the home care protocol he had given her. Daddy was on antibiotics and antivirals for five days with no improvement, but there was a follow-up appointment set up for Tuesday and we brought him as scheduled... no one knew what we were dealing with here. The doctor was so incredibly defensive, and then became kind of offensive, and I am not writing any more about that because it makes me pretty freaking mad.
So the dermatologist appointment was first thing yesterday, and the dermatologist took one look and said, "Lymphoma." Apparently a rare but known manifestation of lymphoma. So now, he has a mass in his abdomen and this horror show on his head, and it is all one big cancer. She did a biopsy, but we haven't had a chance to hear anything back about that.
The oncology appointment was supposed to be Friday, but I think either the PCP or the dermatologist may have intervened there, because a magical opening popped up yesterday afternoon. The oncology appointment was LONG. Afterward, the oncologist sent him directly to the hospital; he was admitted last night. Today they scanned everything, basically. CT scans and MRIs all over the place, and a lymph node biopsy on his neck. Tomorrow, a bone marrow biopsy, and I guess tomorrow we are going to find out where we stand. I know from some internet research that if the cancer is above and below the diaphragm (which it certainly appears to be) we are at least at Stage III. Right now all we know is that it's aggressive B-cell lymphoma, but there are a lot of different types of those. I am not a doctor. I remind myself of this 23534543 times a day, just like when I am on an airplane and I'm freaked out and I keep reminding myself I'm not the pilot, so I'm not in charge of making decisions.
Everything has moved unbelievably fast. I knew cancer could be "aggressive," but I had no clue that my dad could start deteriorating before my eyes, literally, within a matter of three weeks. He is weak, not eating, vomitting, stumbling when he tries to walk.
Last I heard they were going to start chemotherapy this weekend, and I think radiation too, although details are a bit fuzzy. I think they'll remain fuzzy until tomorrow afternoon.
I am typing this from some emotionless, matter-of-fact, clinical place inside myself. I alternate between this, and crying, and remembering things about my dad (he's still here!) and focusing on my mom and what I can do to help her.
I now have to go finish a presentation about an entirely different illness. Maybe, maybe, I can somehow find a way to focus.