Hi Diana
Thank you for your response. Your story is very sad indeed. Once treatment is no longer an option, whether by personal choice or a medical decision, you really do feel an isolation.
Earlier this summer, my dearest friend was diagnosed with stomach cancer. She died on August 31. Her story is devastating. In May, she suffered a bile duct infection and upon an ultra sound examination, they found a tumor in her stomach. They did a biopsy later that month, but didn't tell her that she was terminal/stage 4. Didn't tell her to put her things in order. In fact, they told her there was no urgency and convinced her to get surgery. When they opened her up, they closed her right back up - but not before cutting into her stomach to get another biopsy. She was confined to her bed after surgery and never recovered, never became strong enough for chemo. Her daughter tried many alternative approaches, and managed pain with morphine patches. It wasn't until about 3 weeks before her death that they told her daughter that she was terminal.
Because of my mom's condition, I was never able to go to her (she lived 3,000 miles away), or say goodbye. I haven't had the heart to tell my mom that my best friend didn't make it; so I haven't had much of a chance to grieve her death. I was able to send a letter to her that was read at her funeral and the afternoon of her funeral, I spent in prayer and meditation. I also sent flowers. Throughout her illness, I called her frequently (almost daily) and we cried on the phone. The last time I spoke with her was about 10 days before her death, and she was incoherent and difficult to understand. I stay in touch with her daughter, who is like a niece to me - but everytime I dial her number, it sends a pain through my whole soul.
It has been a month since her death.
Now, to face my mother's imminent death too, is hard to say the least.
We did get several opinions for my mom. The third visit to emergency, the doctor told my siblings that my mom had tumor. They asked if it was malignant or bening - the doctor's first response was that it didn't look bening. Then, when admitted for testing, more opinions started to surface. The first one - malignant, inoperable, terminal. The 2nd one, the neurosurgeon said he could go in there, get a biopsy, resection one of the tumors - but she would likely have a stroke. He also said that treatment would only give her 6 months at best. The 3rd one - 90% certainty of primary lymphoma, incurable, surgery not advised. However, without a biopsy, we we will never know for certain what kind of cancer it is. The cancer clinic also suggested a GBM - in which case, chemo is often a hit and miss, because there are often several type of cancer cells involved - some which respond to chemo and some that don't respond and could be aggravated by treatment.
I am finding it very liberating to relate mom's experience here with all of you. Thank you for your responses and compassion.
Bright Blessings