After the roller coaster ride of the last couple of weeks this week was supposed to be a bit easier. It is a non-chemo week for my wife and apart from a visit from the community nurse to change the dressing on her PICC—oh and a trip to the podiatrist to checkup how an operation on an ingrowing toe nail had gone—the only thing scheduled was a blood test. My wife was still a bit vague and forgetful at time but generally an easy week.
It wasn’t.
I took her to have the blood sample taken Wednesday afternoon. By 4.00pm we were having urgent phone calls from her Palliative Care Doctor and the Cancer Clinic she attends for chemo. Sodium and Potassium levels were well outside the norm, very low. I had to rush of to our local pharmacist before they closed and to where a prescription for potassium tablets was to be faxed. On top of everything else there was a sudden decision to order CT scans of my wife’s torso and head. Clearly someone else had started to have the same doubts/concerns as me that cancer was spreading to her brain and this explained her cognitive decline not the painkillers. And if the electrolytes in her blood are falling does it mean declining kidney function?
We don’t know the results. We were asked if we would like one of the doctors to review the CT scan and let us know. I said no (as did my wife). We will find out on Monday, when she is due to see her Oncologist and have her last scheduled dose of Chemo. That will be early enough and quite frankly if it is bad news I don’t want another weekend spoiled.
Of course I will continue to ‘take it’. But sometimes (like Peter Finch in Network) I just want to open the window and scream.
