Okay, who stepped on a crack...?

After almost a week in the hospital and many, many tests, Mother learned nothing about what caused the pain that put her in it. The day she was discharged, I got her in to see a pain and spine specialist recommended by Dr. Benjamin (her local oncologist), and he almost immediately figured out what was wrong. Based on her symptoms, he suspected she must have a compression fracture in the thoracic spine, and a quick X-ray confirmed that she had, in fact, two fractured vertebrae. Instead of the normal rectangular cross-section, these are compressed at the front to form trapezoids. It's no wonder she has a curved back and excruciating pain. This even causes the pain in her abdomen just under her lower ribs.

This kind of fracture is most common in osteoporosis, but it can also result from metastatic cancer. Mother's cancer marker CA-125, according to Dr. Benjamin, is only 16.4, which is within the normal range and only slightly elevated from eight months ago. He has referred her to a specialist to get a bone density scan to see if she does have osteoporosis, and in the meantime has recommended she take calcium and vitamin D.

The pain specialist gave her a prescription for Duragesic patches, although I suspect she is going to need a stronger dose. He started her out low, and even with the maximum number of Norco pain pills (Norco is like Vicodin but with less acetaminophen so she doesn't strain her liver), she still suffers. Dr. Benjamin pointed out she can use a second pain patch, but when I offered her one last night, she declined. I think she was concerned about the possible side effects, including extreme sleepiness and forgetting to breathe.

Daddy has been talking about putting her in a corset for some time now, and it may come to that. She's already had the bed rest and therapy she should have had anyway, so a back brace, calcium and vitamin D may be all that are left that she can do. Because of her cancer, the hormone treatment for osteoporosis is probably not available to her, and I can't see her going for anything invasive.

Interestingly, it is possible Dr. Benjamin is very distantly related to us. Our forebear Woolf Isaacs married Ellen Benjamin in the Great Synagogue of London way back in the early years of the nineteenth century. Dr. Benjamin's family also hails from London of about that time.

Real Life. Really.

My mother called me from the hospital in the middle of the night last night wanting me to come up. She was concerned that "they" were trying to kill her. After I threw on some clothes and was on my way there, I wondered if "they" could use my help in that endeavor.

Considering the number of times, and the different groups of hospital personnel over the last three and a half months who have been out to get my mother, I wonder that nobody has succeeded by now. She assures me she isn't hallucinating.

I didn't make it past the security desk at the hospital, which, considering the lateness of the hour, isn't surprising. The guard called the nursing desk on my mother's floor and they said she was asleep, which was certainly not true, since she called me again just as I got to my car. When I told her I hadn't brought Daddy with me - I figured he needed the sleep more than she needed both of us to come - she decided it was just as well I hadn't gotten into the hospital, since it wouldn't have been safe for me alone. All I can figure is that she's had horror-movie kinds of dreams, or is remembering the so-called "Angel of Mercy" who was euthanizing elderly patients over in Glendale a few years ago.

She's due to get sent back to my house tomorrow, and I am, justifiably, I think, nervous. When I saw her this morning, she was awaiting a new IV so she could get intravenous morphine. She ended up in the hospital this time because her pain got out of control, so I hope we'll have something more effective to use than Vicodin when we get her out. She has an appointment with a pain specialist tomorrow afternoon; maybe he can work miracles.

Been here before, alas...

Last Friday, I took my mother to the hospital for the fourth time in as many months, this time with abdominal pain. The only tests that came back positive were those for a urinary tract infection (not the cause of such searing pain) and a CT scan that showed ductal dilation in the liver. Based on that, and her previous diagnosis of uterine cancer (endometrial adenocarcinoma), she was admitted to the hospital oncology unit on the sixth floor. At least they can give her morphine, which keeps her pain in check better than the hydrocodone and acetaminophen (Vicodin or Norco) that we had here. Of course, she spends a lot of her time sleeping. I can tell she's really ill, since she doesn't waste much of her waking time in complaining.

Based on what I've read, if her cancer has indeed metastasized to the liver, that's about as serious as it can get. I had been concerned about her bladder and intestines before this, but she couldn't safely undergo any of the tests that might diagnose a spread at the cellular level; only if she had a visible tumor would the imaging studies she's had have shown anything. We haven't actually heard anything definite from any doctors, but I'm hoping that now that the weekend, Easter and Passover (for all but the most devout) are over, we'll learn something. I don't expect good news.