I should start this part of my story by saying I’m probably going to struggle to include much, if any, humour but it is nevertheless a massive part of my memoirs.
From the moment we had our first child my mum was ‘there’. She was completely consumed with all four of our children. Until we had our last baby she worked full-time in insurance and hated missing out on school assemblies, performances and sports days. When our youngest son was a few months old she resigned from her job. She had been quite poorly with bronchitis which resulted in the long term collapse of her diaphragm and her lung capacity was reduced leaving her very breathless at times. She relied on an inhaler when she did anything with great exertion. She also had trouble bending forward, for example, when putting on socks or shoes because the abdominal contents are squished by bending and pushes over the diaphragm causing discomfort.
With considerably lower energy levels she reflected on her work life and made the decision to look for something with less pressure and hours that suited her. She printed off a few flyers and took up part-time cleaning, mostly for houses but also a fitness studio and offices. It was something she enjoyed and which gave her space to do more of the things she loved doing such as scrapbooking, lunches with friends, walking her two cherished Whippets and helping out with the grandchildren. By this time my parents had moved to Bexhill to a beautiful flat just a few minutes walk from the seafront and said it was the best move they could ever have made. They loved everything about Bexhill.
It was also perfect timing for my return to work after eight years of being a stay-at-home mum. She willingly helped out with childcare and school runs and always looked forward to her time with the children. It was just lovely to have more time to spend together.
From when the children were really small mum and dad almost always joined us on our family days out wherever they might be – zoos, theme parks, museums, cinema and theatre trips. In fact the majority of the children’s childhood memories include their grandparents. Mostly thanks to Tesco ‘Clubcard’ rewards we did more than our fair share of popular attractions. It wasn’t cheap being a family of six! Never mind the admission fees, there’s the train fares, lunches, snacks and souvenirs! Some days could feasibly have cost more than a whole weekend away if it hadn’t been for the vouchers!
One time we managed to book a Travelodge in the London Docklands over the Easter period for £26 per room per night! As always we had a great time. However, on the second day mum complained of pain in her hips and said she thought it must have been due to an uncomfortable hotel bed. Although we all sympathised with her we were not unduly worried at that time as her explanation seemed plausible.
Time passed but unfortunately Mum’s mystery pain didn’t. Our thinking was that even the worst mattress is unlikely to cause such prolonged anguish. A trip to the doctor was in order. At the first appointment her fears were quite nonchalantly dismissed. “It’s probably just your age” said the female GP and advised her to take Ibuprofen! Frustratingly she got a similar response in future consultations.
It got to the point where the pains were impacting hugely on her everyday life and it seemed absurd that there had been no attempts to investigate, not even routine blood tests. As a cancer survivor, you’d have thought that there would have been more vigilance of her care.
One of the doctors gave mum a bit more attention. He was a kind, gentle GP who was very close to retirement. He wondered if she had any old injuries that may have lain dormant as it is possible to start to experience pain years after an injury occurs. Mum was able to identify two such occasions which had both happened around ten years earlier. One was a fall from her horse which resulted in a lot of bruising, particularly around her pelvic area. The other was a freak accident when she was on the back of Dad’s Harvey Davidson. They were on a trip in France with a large convoy of Harley riders and they had pulled over into a lay-by. Before they’d had time to even get themselves off the bike one of the other riders ploughed straight into their stationary bike, throwing them off. It turns out the culprit had fallen asleep. Miraculously they were both very lucky to get away with mostly superficial injuries although they ached terribly. As an aside, I have to mention that this incident led to the first time I had EVER heard my mum drop the ‘F’ bomb – twice! When the story was being told sometime later she said “F******g XXXXXX! What a f*****g idiot!” My reaction was totally disproportionate – I laughed way too hard at that! It just sounded too funny coming out of my mum’s mouth!
Anyway, back to the point of this anecdote. Mum had told me what the doctor had said and one morning when I was driving to my office she called me to say he had just phoned and said to her “Sally, I’ve been thinking, it does seem like your pain could be due to your old injuries”. She was so relieved to hear this and was on a real high. I responded appropriately and said hopefully that’s the case. However, when I got off the phone I felt quite annoyed with the doctor. He had not carried out any tests to come to this conclusion so I couldn’t understand why he had planted that seed of hope in my mum’s mind. If nothing else I felt it was a dangerous thing to have done, not to mention unprofessional. Most times in life I am the eternal optimist, looking for the positives rather than the negatives, but I can’t deny that this had really unsettled me. I just thought ‘what if he’s wrong’ and my mum has already made her mind up that he had identified the cause of all that pain? The irony of this is that at no point (it seemed) had any of the doctors she consulted with looked at her records and considered her previous cancer diagnosis! This would seem to me to be so fundamental in their investigation yet it was totally missed. My parents had of course moved to a local practice after they moved house but what’s the point of having medical records if they are not checked for prior history. If my parents hadn’t moved to a different town would their previous GP, who had instigated her primary diagnosis and supported her through her treatment, have been more mindful at this point? I guess we will never know the answer to that.
Sadly the pain continued to engulf my poor mum and she began to look more and more worn out and had really lost her ‘mojo’. Eventually, at the end of her tether, she made another GP appointment and practically begged to be sent for a hip x-ray. Her pleas were finally heard and a referral was made. By this time she had been suffering for the best part of a year.
The x-ray was carried out and instantly highlighted some concerns, not regarding her hip but the images had provoked a particular interest in the presentation of her bones. Consequently she was referred for a bone density scan (DEXA or DXA which stands for dual energy x-ray absorptiometry). It’s also called a bone densitometry scan. It uses low dose x-rays to take measurements to work out the strength (density) of your bones.
Some cancer treatments can cause your bones to get thinner and less dense. This can also be a symptom or result of a cancer returning.
Sadly for my mum, the diagnosis was secondary bone cancer. This is when a cancer that started somewhere else in the body has spread to the bones. Where a cancer starts it is called the primary cancer. If some cancer cells break away from the primary cancer they can move through the bloodstream or lymphatic system to another part of the body, where they can form a new tumour. Secondary cancers are also called metastases.
We finally had an answer but it was the one that we were all secretly dreading.
To be continued…
Hoping for a Happy Ever After 