This is an email message I sent to friends six months after Hazel's remission
(a word we didn't use at the time, lest fate be tempted) had ended.
She'd had radiotherapy and was undergoing a new kind of chemotherapy (taxol),
but there didn't seem to be much response.
The occasion was Hazel's fiftieth birthday.
(Actually, I'd missed it by seven minutes.)
From: bobm@agsm.edu.au
Subject: Hazel turns fifty today!
Date: Mon, 11 May 1998 00:07:36 +1100 (E )
Dear Friends of Hazel,
Today -- Sunday, May 10 -- is Hazel's birthday.
But she is not well. After almost eighteen months of remission, she started
getting strong bone pain last November. She had radio-therapy on her neck
and back (which were at risk of fracturing) over Christmas and has been on
taxol chemo-therapy since January, which is due to end in ten days. But for
the most part the pain has persisted, although blood tests have shown no
deterioration. Although bone secondaries may take weeks or months after the
beginning of chemo for the pain to diminish, it is now four months since the
chemo started, which means we're concerned, concerned not least because she's
lost weight and has suffered constipation and nausea from the chemo and the
pain killers (mainly panadol/panadeine so far).
There is also concern that her right upper femur (where it enters the hip) is
at risk of fracture and they're talking of operating to put in rods, but
she's weak for major surgery. Meanwhile, we are taking to the oncologist
about starting another round of chemo using the cocktail that she had two
years ago, which led to the remission of 1996/97. The problem is that the
tumour develops resistance to the chemicals -- a sort of natural selection,
so that eventually they become ineffective. We play for time.
So the plans for her birthday in Tuscany went west -- she hasn't been up to
the mountain house since before November, since she hasn't wanted the jolting
of a car trip for two hours.
Her sister Pat and mother Ada arrived as all this was starting in early
December, and prolonged their visit to the end of March, when her other
sister Joan and her husband Ken arrived for 3 1/2 weeks. (They managed to
get up to the Barrier Reef for 4 days). A week after they'd gone home, Pat
came back for six months, which means that the day-to-day things -- kids
after school, keeping Hazel company, driving Hazel to hospital, etc -- are
taken care of.
We told Zoë last Sunday that Hazel could die from her disease
(but left her and son with some hope -- not least because we don't know).
Zoë's response was "You're kidding!" and then she told me that a friend of
hers had asked her how she felt about the possibility of her mother's dying,
and she'd said that Hazel was just sick -- so it was time we spoke to her.
I told son last November, inadvertantly really, that Hazel had cancer; he
knew how serious that was.
So both kids know the possibility, and talk to Hazel about things, which is
tough on them, but better than being lied to and kept out of the way.
There are some photos of Hazel and the kids on
the Web, taken last August
when my sister was up for the School holidays, one of the most recent times
that Hazel was in the Blue Mountains.
See
Hazel's spirits are good, all things considered. She is getting some sleep
each night and gets out every couple of days. Today -- her birthday -- after
opening the presents and celebrating with the strawberry mousse birthday
cake with five candles, we went out looking for a chest of draws for son's
room on a fine brisk autumn day. Yesterday we bought a walking stick to
protect the right hip. But she's lost much weight, as well as all her hair.
Both of which are reversible if/when the chemo works.
She's not up to seeing people much, but a card or note would be welcome.
I'm well, as are the kids. Zoë's in Year 2, son in Year 3 and his soccer
team has won two out of two this season (last week he kicked the one and
only and so winning goal in the game). Both are learning piano; Zoë has
Hazel's painting skills.
Please contact me for further information, even if I can't always reply
immediately.
Thanks for your love and concern,
Robert
