Scan news

This week Dad had a full body scan, the first since September and the completion of his radiotherapy. We have noticed over the past fortnight that he is increasingly tired, confused and headaches have returned, so feared the worst, but in fact although it revealed that the metastasis on his left side is growing (two months ago it was 4cm and it is now 6cm) it also showed that the whole brain radiotherapy has slightly reduced the size of the metastases in his brain. The oncologist, recognising the return of symptoms, has increased Dad's steroid dose again. He is now on 4mg of dexamethasone a day (originally put on 16mg a day back in August and since weaned down to 2mg a day week by week) This should reduce the swelling surrounding each metastasis in his brain, reducing the pressure on his brain and hopefully the symptoms. We were told Dad is not well enough for an operation  but he will be given radiotherapy for the metastasis on his left side.
Scans aside, Mum and Dad are doing well for cake at the moment, as their neighbour is kindly providing a regular supply of home-baked goodies. Dad has always had a sweet tooth, so he is very much enjoying this. He even has enough appetite to wolf down several at a time! Some golfing buddies came round and my cousin visited too with his girlfriend. Dad enjoys seeing people but gets tired quickly at the moment and zones-out a bit during conversations. Having said that, he was cheerful at lunch out on Saturday and when asked how the doctor's visit was he replied "He was very well thankyou!"

Why are we waiting?

Perhaps it is futile at this point to ask why it took so long to discover the Melanoma had metastasised to Dad’s brain, as it is unlikely that the outcome could have been very different. I cannot understand it though and it still upsets me if I think about it. I am not a doctor, but my desperate search for information made two things clear to me. Firstly, Melanoma frequently metastasises to the brain (in over 50% of cases according to one article I read in a medical journal) Secondly, there are various common symptoms, several of which were evident in Dad. When I asked the oncologist why Dad had not had a full body scan sooner he told me that they do not scan people on the basis of it being ‘nice to know what was going on’ and that those symptoms could have meant many things. I understand the cost implications of frivolous scanning. What I don’t understand is how it could be considered frivolous when Dad was a Melanoma patient whose cancer was known at the time to be uncontrolled. I am not an ambulance chaser, but I am bitterly disappointed that Dad had to suffer for two months before being given any relief. For my own sake and largely because it brings Dad no help, I realise I must let this go.  

Bookworms and coffee

Having all now recovered from last weeks gastro incident, we all felt up to a challenge. Mum and Dad’s combined lifelong book collection has been sitting stacked against a wall at the top of the stairs for most of this year, since the bookshelves collapsed. So we went out, bought a bunch of bookcases and spent the day assembling. Or rather, I spent the day assembling under Dad’s direction, whilst my boyfriend steered us clear of Mum having a meltdown over the internet suddenly going belly up. When it came to putting the books onto the shelves Dad took a more active role by insisting on dusting some of the books and was keen to prioritise shelf space to his travel books over Mum’s French Asterix comic books. Dad seemed happy to look through some old favourites again, clearly remembering which books he enjoyed the most. He is getting confused every so often again though, as demonstrated on Saturday morning when he asked why I had changed out of the brown dress I’d been wearing earlier. This confused me as firstly I don’t own any brown dresses and secondly the only other outfit I had worn on Saturday was my pyjamas. It also immediately made me think of an incident two months ago in a pub when Dad put some sugar wrappers into his cup of coffee, stirred them in and then drank it. Thankfully Dad doesn’t remember much from that period. I will forever remember it as the moment I saw with my own eyes how seriously ill Dad was. As with most people, it’s true that he didn’t always pay attention to everything, but the lunacy of stirring rubbish into a drink before drinking it was not my Father. His brain metastases were still undiagnosed at this point, but all his symptoms pointed to them.