Last Wednesday, I got a phone call notifying me that my mother - who was diagnosed with cancer of the blood a year ago - was being sent home from the hospital as they could no longer treat her myeloma. This didn't sound good. I asked my dad for more information and this is what I found out:
On Wednesday the consultant confirmed our suspicions that this third chemo drug was not working. Indeed, the para protein blood level had risen dramatically and was now almost the same as when she was first diagnosed nearly 14 months ago. Unfortunately, they have reached the end of any possible further treatment to control this aggressive myeloma. As these cells now dominate the bone marrow her body is unable to produce any significant healthy plasma for the various vital cells in the blood stream. He indicated a life expectancy of only a few weeks but ultimately it is, as with us all, in the Lord's hands.
That was Wednesday. It's now Monday and I'm here in my home town of Dundee a little confused, overwhelmed and unsure of the outlook. Wednesday was hard. We knew from the start that aside from a miracle mum's cancer was terminal; what was alarming was finding out how quickly her situation could deteriorate. Our loving pastors, told us to leave quickly, so the next morning AJ and I put in motion all the steps needed to move five people over the atlantic.
Hindered somewhat by the fact that Tia and AJ's passports had expired - AJ drove to Atlanta to get them renewed and with the aid of much prayer and our congresswoman, she had passports in hand by Friday, by which point flights were booked. All we had to do was pack.
Saturday started early (4am) and was a day of travel which swiftly blurred into Sunday. The kids were amazing, despite precious little sleep and after a short drive from Edinburgh to Dundee and a quick shower and change of clothes we got to see her.
It was a real joy to be with her and she looked great. As she said, "I've got no pain, no breakages and no infections." Amazing given she has no real immune system to speak of and according to her MRI, bones that look like honeycombs. My sister Charis and her family also flew in from the States to see her, so we had a full house which seemed to keep her buoyant.
But we all know the buoyancy was aided by high powered steroids and adrenaline. She's off the steroids now and is at the hospital today for a check up and perhaps a blood transfusion. We're taking things one day at a time as we can't tell the future. All your prayers would be appreciated. We'll post here as things develop.
My mom and dad in 2013, shortly before she was diagnosed. Look at my smile. Now look at hers. Bingo. Just one of the awesome things I've inherited from my mom. Photo courtesy @TinkMcLeod