August 21, 2009

Our appointment isn't until 9:00 so we get up early and leave.  Janet is with us again, thankfully.  I can only speak for myself, but today I'm very apprehensive.  It seems like we've gotten only bad news lately and yet, I know the worst is yet to come. 

We get in rather quickly to see the tall, nice looking young man, Dr. Rini, who holds the knowledge of my mother's future in his hands.  Dr. Rini concurs with the assessment of all previous medical diagnoses.  No surgery, not treatable.  I had asked Janet to handle the tough questions, those I knew I couldn't ask.  I can tell it's difficult for her to do this, but she asks for Mom's prognosis.  Dr. Rini explains that there are basically two kinds of renal cell carcinoma, clear cell and papillary.  Clear cell accounts for over 90% of the cases, Papillary 5-10%,  therefore, there have been more studies done and better statistics known with the Clear Cell type.  Clear Cell RCC responds slightly to treatment.  Papillary RCC doesn't.  He is prescribing an anti-cancer drug, called Torisel, to be taken intraveneously weekly.  He informs us it is not chemotherapy, but may help in the growth of the evil intrusion. Then Dr. Rini answers the difficult question...a life expectancy of 12 - 24 months with Clear Cell RCC.  Mom has Papillary RCC.  My stomach aches, I feel dizzy, and I want to cry but I have to hold it together for Mom.  The only question Mom asks all day is this question now...."will I have pain?".  I realize then that in her wonderful, intelligent, bright mind, she has understood.  I look at Tina, Mom's granddaughter, and she is crying.  Janet continues to ask questions that she understands.  I really don't know what happened after that.  I'm in a fog.  The next thing I realize is that we are walking out of the building, I am pushing her in her wheelchair, and I am crying.

Right now, I don't think life can get worse.  I had driven to Cleveland but I don't want Mom to see that I'm crying.  Tina is crying, too, so Janet takes the keys and drives, and Tina and I silently weep in the backseat.  Janet is so wise and keeps Mom's mind busy with having her help with the GPS and directions.  Tina and I text back and forth in the backseat unbeknownst to Mom.  My heart is absolutely broken.  I feel much like I did the day my dad laid at the hospital after having a brain aneurysm, waiting on him to die.  I didn't know I could hurt this much.

We need to eat on the way home and again, Janet handles that for us.  She knows Mom's favorite restaurant is Red Lobster and she finds one and takes us there.  Surprisingly, Mom eats very well and for that I'm grateful.  Tina and I picked at our food.  Somehow we get through the dinner and arrive at home.  We leave Mom and Tina at Mom's and Janet drives me home.  I sob hysterically when I get in the car, like I did when I first saw Dad.  It's happening again.  I'm losing a parent.