Tomorrow will be three weeks since mom went to the ER after falling and was found to have a mass in her brain.  We now know what kind of mass it is – a tumor, and what kind of tumor it is – a grade 4 glioblastoma.  What we don’t yet know is when her treatment will begin.  It is becoming very frustrating to be on the waiting end of this thing.

I realize that there are a lot of necessary steps involved in getting someone set up on a cancer treatment plan – and no one wants there to be any mistakes made – but should it really take this long??  As a nurse in her oncologist’s office said the other day when we told her we didn’t know when her radiation treatments would begin… “this isn’t toe cancer.”  I couldn’t agree more.  If there is a waiting list, it seems like she should be at the top of it, doesn’t it?

One of the first things I did for mom when she was in the hospital was buy her a journal to write in.  She has always kept journals, writing in them every night fairly regularly.  But somehow I thought having a mass in one’s brain deserved the purchase of a new journal dedicated to this journey we’re taking.  I have been pleased to see it sitting on the table next to her when I’ve gone over to the house.

I would guess a lot of what she’s writing these days is frustrated and angry, but I hope it is a place she can put a lot of her feelings she can’t talk about.  We are all optimistic, but that doesn’t mean we don’t think of the negative things that could happen.  If we don’t want to talk about it, we need to at least be able to put those feelings somewhere.

4 comments

  1. They still don’t know? Good friggin lord! You all must be going crazy. I’m going crazy and I feel one step removed.

  2. I Googled glioblastoma and learned that it’s stupid. And dumb.

  3. AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!! I just pulled out a hunk of my hair in my frustration for you. Seriously. They can’t just drop that bombshell on you and then expect you to wait until it’s convenient for them to give you more information. Oh wait a minute, yeah they can. (They did this to Tony’s father as well, except the holdup was all in the various diagnostic tests.)

    All I can figure is that if their business is treating people for cancer, then at some point they get lost in the day-to-day of it all. Day in, day out, for them it’s about schedules and medical records and such. But for you and your mom, and for Tony & his dad, and for each individual patient it’s just about them and their fight and wanting to get on with it.

    Hugs to all of you.

  4. Griffin says stupid’s not nice. I’ll tell him that cancer is more not nice than stupid.

    Thanks Anne! In my head I’m Shirley McClain screaming and banging on the nurses’ station in Terms of Endearment. But rather than screaming, I keep mom laughing and cry when I need to.

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