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stephbg(I don't usually post here in DW, but LJ is down and I had to get this out. There may be technical difficulties. If you're reading this in LJ, a miracle has occurred, and/or it's tomorrow. Hello from the past.)
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Some of you know that my Dad has been unwell for a while and that he was recently admitted to hospital for pain management and tests. With his permission I can now tell you the whole situation.
What started out as back pain has turned out to be metastasized melanoma in his spine, ribs and pelvis. He's had a huge number of skin leisons removed over the years including a couple of confirmed melanomas, but it looks like a few cells got away. He got to be one of the 0.01%. Due to a communication error we were told at first that this biospy result was for myeloma which, while bad, was very much a less serious option. Myeloma would have indicated a more localised problem, rather than a systemic one. So we had to deal with an extra loop in the rollercoaster for a while. The rollercoaster is still running, and I don't expect it to stop any time soon.
He's been in hospital for several days now and fortunately has finally found a good combination of pain relief and nausea suppression drugs to make him more comfortable and return his appetite. Dad's a long and lean 6'2" so any weight loss was pretty dramatic. He started chemo yesterday and is scheduled for weekly treatments for the next few weeks (Merry Christmas). It always takes a while to fine tune such things, and if nothing else we all know what to expect from the process. Mainly that everyone is different. He had few side effects from his first treatment and we're hopeful that will continue.
The immediate goal is to get him mobile again and there has been enough success in that area that he may be allowed home in a few days time. A shower is now a measure of achievement. He would then go back in to hospital as a day patient once a week for blood tests, and if those are favourable, back the next day for chemo. Although his private room is lovely (and the nurses are AWESOME) it's always going to be better to have him at home. However, we have to remember that he has four spine fractures and assorted other age-related signs of degeneration in his back, so we're yet to see if he's able to fold himself into and out of a car without doing additional damage.
He is his usual lovely cheerful self, now that the last few bad days of pain, fatigue, and information overload are settling down. I've been able to get lifts to see him several times, and spent all morning with him today, with my sister and Mum. His sense of humour is intact and he knows the value of it. We'll be seeing a lot more "spineless" jokes before we're done, and today we discussed the logistics of carrying him around in a bucket.
It's serious though. Apart from the cancer there's also the very real risk of infection and further injury from weak bones and general unsteadiness. But he must also move about as much as possible to avoid the dangers of being bed-bound.
So that's where we're at. As for myself my body and brain haven't quite co-ordinated their response so there'll be a bit of sorting out to do. I've been holding my imagination and emotions at bay for a few weeks until we knew what was going on. Now we do know, and I have to let that information get past the protective barriers I erected back then. With luck it won't all catch up to me in the middle of the supermarket, or the freeway, but I do expect the unexpected. I anticipate a danger period the next trip I go to the vet and talk about Cally's painful back and how much longer we expect to keep her with us. She's not doing quite so well these days, the poor old thing.
One last thing - we got quite thoroughly Perthed. Dad's oncologist also treats my BIL, but more to the point he grew up just down the road from the folks' place. Same street, just a couple of blocks away. His parents only moved out of there themselves a handlful of years ago. For a minor bonus one of the ward nurses is called Stephanie. She's Irish and has a gorgeous accent.
--
Some of you know that my Dad has been unwell for a while and that he was recently admitted to hospital for pain management and tests. With his permission I can now tell you the whole situation.
What started out as back pain has turned out to be metastasized melanoma in his spine, ribs and pelvis. He's had a huge number of skin leisons removed over the years including a couple of confirmed melanomas, but it looks like a few cells got away. He got to be one of the 0.01%. Due to a communication error we were told at first that this biospy result was for myeloma which, while bad, was very much a less serious option. Myeloma would have indicated a more localised problem, rather than a systemic one. So we had to deal with an extra loop in the rollercoaster for a while. The rollercoaster is still running, and I don't expect it to stop any time soon.
He's been in hospital for several days now and fortunately has finally found a good combination of pain relief and nausea suppression drugs to make him more comfortable and return his appetite. Dad's a long and lean 6'2" so any weight loss was pretty dramatic. He started chemo yesterday and is scheduled for weekly treatments for the next few weeks (Merry Christmas). It always takes a while to fine tune such things, and if nothing else we all know what to expect from the process. Mainly that everyone is different. He had few side effects from his first treatment and we're hopeful that will continue.
The immediate goal is to get him mobile again and there has been enough success in that area that he may be allowed home in a few days time. A shower is now a measure of achievement. He would then go back in to hospital as a day patient once a week for blood tests, and if those are favourable, back the next day for chemo. Although his private room is lovely (and the nurses are AWESOME) it's always going to be better to have him at home. However, we have to remember that he has four spine fractures and assorted other age-related signs of degeneration in his back, so we're yet to see if he's able to fold himself into and out of a car without doing additional damage.
He is his usual lovely cheerful self, now that the last few bad days of pain, fatigue, and information overload are settling down. I've been able to get lifts to see him several times, and spent all morning with him today, with my sister and Mum. His sense of humour is intact and he knows the value of it. We'll be seeing a lot more "spineless" jokes before we're done, and today we discussed the logistics of carrying him around in a bucket.
It's serious though. Apart from the cancer there's also the very real risk of infection and further injury from weak bones and general unsteadiness. But he must also move about as much as possible to avoid the dangers of being bed-bound.
So that's where we're at. As for myself my body and brain haven't quite co-ordinated their response so there'll be a bit of sorting out to do. I've been holding my imagination and emotions at bay for a few weeks until we knew what was going on. Now we do know, and I have to let that information get past the protective barriers I erected back then. With luck it won't all catch up to me in the middle of the supermarket, or the freeway, but I do expect the unexpected. I anticipate a danger period the next trip I go to the vet and talk about Cally's painful back and how much longer we expect to keep her with us. She's not doing quite so well these days, the poor old thing.
One last thing - we got quite thoroughly Perthed. Dad's oncologist also treats my BIL, but more to the point he grew up just down the road from the folks' place. Same street, just a couple of blocks away. His parents only moved out of there themselves a handlful of years ago. For a minor bonus one of the ward nurses is called Stephanie. She's Irish and has a gorgeous accent.
