Angela Wright said:There’s a specific treatment protocol they follow, and they track everything—general health and markers. I think it varies case by case depending on the drug, but one thing is certain: if at any point a patient starts showing negative clinical signs, like severe side effects or bad blood work, they pull them off the therapy immediately. The worst part is when the patient is actually responding to the treatment, but their body just can't take the hits from the side effects anymore.
I forgot to ask you:
given how big the tumor was, it feels like your mom has been dealing with this for a while now. How did she even find out about it?
We brought Mom home today after her fourth round of chemo and she is doing terribly. This one hit her harder than all the others combined. She’s just lying there, completely helpless and exhausted. Honestly, I don't know how much more her body can take. She's lost so much weight; she was about 145 pounds before surgery, and now, just a few days ago, she was down to 119. She just keeps getting weaker, and those markers are still nowhere near normal.
She first found out because of these pains in her lower abdomen, so she went to see the doctor. At first, they diagnosed it as a benign uterine fibroid (but located on the outside of the uterus), so she spent two weeks in the internal medicine ward. They ran every test imaginable—endoscopies, cystoscopies, colonoscopies, kidney scans... and they couldn't find any sign of metastasis anywhere. Because of the size of the mass, they thought it had to be benign, otherwise, there would have been metastases visible. But then, after the surgery, when I went to talk to the doctor about her, he told me straight away that it was a malignant tumor that started in the left ovary. Initially, they weren't sure they could even do anything because it was so massive and fused with the pelvic area; it was pressing against her bladder in three different spots, pressing on her large intestine, and parts of her small intestine were already being swallowed up by the tumor because it had started spreading toward the upper abdomen once it ran out of room. They ended up removing her reproductive organs, her appendix (even though there weren't metastases there), and the peritoneum, which was riddled with tiny nodes—basically metastases.
Up until now, I really believed we could get the disease into remission and keep it under control, but the markers are dropping so slowly, and she just gets weaker and weaker. She turns 57 in December.
I feel like I'm hitting my breaking point too. It's killing me. I try to comfort her and convince her that everything will be okay, that she has to hang in there and can't give up, but I can see how hard it is for her and how she's losing her strength.
She is such a wonderful, decent person; she didn't deserve to fight something this vicious. My father has been a drunk for 25 years, so she was the one who took care of everything our whole lives. She made sure my sister and I got a great education even on her tiny salary; she wouldn't buy herself any new clothes for probably 15 years while we were in high school and college, just so we could have what we needed. She lived on dry toast or bread for years just so we could make it through the month. Now, she finally gets to see her grandkids—my little girl is 13 months old, and my sister's boy is 19 months—she was so excited to enjoy them, but unfortunately, she just can't. To be honest, I'm terrified to even think that one day, the grandkids might not even remember her...