On Friday, January 20, 2006, I took Bob to the ER because he was dizzy and in pain, and hadn't had a bowel movement in ten days. Our family doctor suggested the ER for an MRI to see if the cancer explained the dizziness, which was, more accurately, a loss of equilibrium. The ER sent for a neurologist to interpret the MRI for us, and that was the first we knew that the cancer was extensive in Bob's brain. The neurologist was very surprised that we didn't know and showed us the enormous shadows on the MRI that were the parts of Bob's brain eaten up by the tumor. Although Bob had a lot of cancer in the front of his brain, the doctor said the most dangerous disease was in his brain stem, because that's the control center for vital functions like blood pressure, heart rate, and respiration. He was surprised that Bob was still alive with all that cancer in his brain, and he was horrified to learn that Bob had been driving up until three weeks prior to the MRI. He said never again would Bob drive, nor work, and Bob wouldn't recover his equilibrium.

He also said Bob needed morphine, but a different doctor would need to prescribe it, probably the cancer doctor, and that we should consider contacting hospice to get the pain under control and to help us through the next months. Before he left, though, he agreed to give Bob a single dose of morphine and medication for the nausea. Bob left the hospital feeling better than he had in weeks, free of pain and nausea. Of course, both of us were in shock at the diagnosis, but at another level, we were not surprised. We both knew the cancer was getting worse, and we had been afraid that the dizziness, the pain and the loss of appetite and muscle mass were all signs that the cancer was closing in.

I decided to take a leave of absence so that I spend all my time with him. And his hospice nurse said he should not be left alone for very long. His cancer doctor prescribed a steroid that would make him feel better temporarily, if it worked. But it would only shrink the swelling of his brain in response to the tumor--it wouldn't shrink the tumor--and it would only have this effect for a few weeks. Luckily it did work, and the dizziness receded--although he didn't regain his balance--and weakness may have been a factor in that. He also had a better appetite and more energy. His spirits were higher--I think he was relieved to know the reason for all the symptoms he had been having. He felt validated to know that he wasn't magnifying his symptoms or his sense of alarm, due to depression or stress--although he had plenty to be stressed and depressed about.

And this began the two months that we called our Indian Summer, when we were able to spend our days and nights together, and when Bob felt a little better than he had for the last couple of months. We knew it would be short--of limited duration--and that made it even sweeter, just like an Indian summer.  ¶ 11:18 AM 0 comments