I just got a call from the doctor. They did a scan before David left the hospital, and the results show a new tumor that wasn't there a couple of weeks ago. And it is already 3 cm by 4 cm. They have called a Comfort Team meeting to decide how to manage his pain, which will soon be very bad again. They will be decreasing his behavior management meds, since they feel he will not have the energy to act out anymore.
A couple of weeks ago I met with some people from David's residence, his doctors and the ethics committee at the treating hospital. We decided to not fight the cancer but instead to just manage pain. With tumors in David's lungs, I cannot imagine him slowly suffocating while we ask him to hold on longer and longer. I have been struggling with that decision, especially since some of the people involved at his residence strongly disagree. I know they are opposing our wishes simply because they love David and don't want him to be gone, but still I worry that I am making the wrong choice.
Today, I searched for message boards about this horrible disease and found stories of parents that fought the cancer aggressively only to watch their beloved children die slowly, painfully. I simply cannot do that to David. So instead I cry uncontrollably and hope I am doing the best for him.
The cancer he has is called MPNST. It is an acronym for Malignant Peripheral Nerve Sheath Tumor. I made the mistake of looking under Google images for "MPNST" and found a photo of a dismembered arm with a tumor. The hand was small and white, like that of a child. I see it in my mind whenever I close my eyes. I don't think I will sleep tonight.
Showing posts with label loss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label loss. Show all posts
Monday, April 6, 2009
Sunday, April 5, 2009
A long Goodbye- Beginning of the End
Some of you may come here from my Etsy Shop blog, antbpottery@blogspot.com. Some may come because they are friends and family, and will use this to keep up with what is going on, and some may come here because they are going through, or have gone through something similar. Whoever you are, welcome.

My aim for this blog is to make a place for me to give information, yes, but mostly as a safe place for me to tell what is going on with me, how I am feeling, coping or not, and to get out some of the things I can't always speak aloud.
For those who don't know, on March 10th, my son David, was been diagnosed as having terminal cancer. At the time I was told that he does not have long to live, perhaps only about 6 months. He is 19.
David is my second oldest son- Jens and he have birthdays two weeks apart. He was four when he came to live with us. He has some disabilities: NF1 (a rare genetic disease that causes tumors to grow on the covering of the nerves anywhere in the body at any time. The disorder affects 1 in 3,000 people.) He also has Fetal Alcohol Syndrome (due to his birthmom's substance abuse. He has an IQ of about 40), and some behavior disorders.
He lived with us until his behaviors and size made it impossible for him to be taken care of at home. He lives in a residential facility in the suburbs of Chicago. We visit him on the weekends, and he calls many times during the week.
My aim for this blog is to make a place for me to give information, yes, but mostly as a safe place for me to tell what is going on with me, how I am feeling, coping or not, and to get out some of the things I can't always speak aloud.
For those who don't know, on March 10th, my son David, was been diagnosed as having terminal cancer. At the time I was told that he does not have long to live, perhaps only about 6 months. He is 19.
David is my second oldest son- Jens and he have birthdays two weeks apart. He was four when he came to live with us. He has some disabilities: NF1 (a rare genetic disease that causes tumors to grow on the covering of the nerves anywhere in the body at any time. The disorder affects 1 in 3,000 people.) He also has Fetal Alcohol Syndrome (due to his birthmom's substance abuse. He has an IQ of about 40), and some behavior disorders.
He lived with us until his behaviors and size made it impossible for him to be taken care of at home. He lives in a residential facility in the suburbs of Chicago. We visit him on the weekends, and he calls many times during the week.
Labels:
adoption,
death,
grief,
loss,
loss of a child,
MPNST,
NF cancer,
sorrow,
special needs,
terminal cancer
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