I'll probably keep this one short.
There's a lot I need to put down here and soon, but I think in the interests of sharing the most relevant information first, I'll get right to the current status and then follow up later, probably tomorrow, with more of the thoughts and feelings stuff.
First, mom's doctor is Monica. I'll be unlikely to refer to her in any other way because she has one of those names that even though I know it, I'll likely spell it wrong at least half of the time and since I'm expecting I'll be mostly posting first drafts only (how often do you go back and copy-edit your diary entries?) and I don't feel like constantly looking it up, I'll stick to the name I know I can consistently get right and that my mom uses to refer to her more than 90% of the time anyway.
Last week we got to meet Monica for the first time and while I plan to spend at least one full post on that meeting later and probably another full post on just what I know about Monica in general, for now let's just say that she was pleasant and professional and she dealt well with my attempts to corner her on certain topics. I refused to leave without clear answers checked off my own mental checklist and I never had to ask the same question more than twice before I got a satisfactory answer and she seemed to grasp what I was doing right away, so I'm pretty pleased on that front.
The facts as I understood them are pretty simple.
Mom's cancer seems to have started in the right kidney and on the whole kidney cancer is less well understood than many other forms. Specifically the causes are not well understood. The cancer either was not there or was so small as to be undetectable when she was suffering from gall stones in 2005 (quite literally while Christine and I were getting married) because they had records from that period of exactly the same area. Early on (as in between Tuesday the 14th and Thursday the 23rd) they were using those scans as the only other data point and it appeared that her left kidney was so small as to be useless, which meant that the only functional kidney was the one with the tumor. The tests on Monday the 20th, though, revealed that not only was her left kidney apparently fine, but that her right kidney had basically shut down at some point and the left one was clearly capable of doing the work of both because it had been for some time. Monica was unable to explain the discrepancy in the tests but she was up-front about her inability to explain it and I'm willing to let it go at that. Possibly because I don't care, which I may end up regretting down the road, but being an analytical sort, I did have to get some kind of answer as soon as I was presented with two data points that didn't agree.
That, at least, is good news because it reduces the likelihood of us needing to discuss topics like kidney transplants (yep, that came up) and dialysis (came up more than transplants).
The bad news was the other tests. It appears (Monica is not an oncologist and she didn't have a written report on any of the other tests yet, just preliminary results, so treat the following with appropriate skepticism) that the cancer has spread to the lymph nodes near the aorta (read: inoperable but not untreatable) and to her lungs (see above). That last one has been the one that I think was most directly responsible for breaking Mom's spirit, but I'm doing the best I can to keep her thinking positive.
Think about that, any of you who know me reasonably well. I'm having to play the role of optimist here and, bafflingly, it's actually coming kind of easy to me.
The initial results were grim, there's no way around that. Sufficiently grim that two of the oncologists on the Island didn't want to discuss it at all and the only remaining renal specialist suggested putting her affairs in order. Okay, I'm sure he was more tactful than that, but he refused to even talk to her or meet with her and refused to even attempt surgery. Period.
Monica kept making calls, though, and we (I still think of myself as an Islander despite the fact that I haven't lived there for more than thirteen weeks at a stretch since 1992) have a third oncologist now who did feel that my mom has a chance of beating this thing. Or at least of having a reasonable shot at extending both the quantity and the quality of life remaining to her. He did say that he thought her odds would be vastly improved if they could cut out the tumor on the kidney and his chemo would only have to work on the other tumors. In light of the refusal on the part of the Island's renal specialist, he put Monica in touch with a doctor in Halifax who has agreed to meet with her this Friday.
Ah, finally, the point of the title of the post.
My mom has a lot of friends. (At least) Two of them were nurses before they retired and (at least) one of them has a son who is also a renal specialist and it turns out that this doctor in Halifax was one of his instructors. I don't know if I should feel comforted by that or not, but I am. The guy looking at my mom trains doctors as well as doing his own work, to me that seems like a pretty good mark of competence.
Anyway, that's where we are now. Mom will be meeting with the doctor to discuss removing one of her kidneys on Friday afternoon. Once they meet they'll decide whether they can and whether they should attempt the surgery, which I imagine will be scheduled in the very short term if it's happening. I plan to be there for it but I expect I'll still have time to make reasonable arrangements between this Friday afternoon and whenever I need to be in Halifax. And if not, well, it won't be the first time I had to pack my crap and just go with barely a word to anyone. I can travel very light when properly motivated.
