Week One - Mom is in the Hospital

It’s 5:30 a.m.and I couldn’t sleep anymore. I’m very sad.

Today is Saturday, July 20th, 2013. On Thursday afternoon just as I was entering the gym I got a call from my mother asking me to take her to the hospital. From the tone in her voice I knew it was bad. 

She reported that a couple of weeks ago she noticed that her handwriting wasn’t the same. Three days ago she noticed that she was having trouble being able to speak. She would think of a word an a different word would come out. The doctor said that happens to him all the time, and to me too by the way, but not to her.

Thursday she couldn’t close her right eye-lid and her speech was slightly slurred. My brother in law, Paul, an internist who is also her primary physician and an excellent diagnostician, told her to get to the hospital right away. Fortunately, I was in the same shopping center and wound up driving to her house right behind her. I tried to get her to stop and let me take her home. At a red light I jumped from my car dressed in my gym clothes, bright yellow shirt, blue shorts and red shoes. I know I looked like the Venezuelan flag as I ran to her car but she waved me off.

Paul had told us to go Methodist downtown, an excellent facility. Though the wait was a bit long I’m glad we listened to Paul. Soon it would be evident that we had made the right choice.

We got to the ER and while in the waiting room she had a seizure, something she’s never had before. I had just stood up to get a snack from a vending machine 10 feet away. I turned back and saw Mom staggering to me with a panic-stricken face, unable to speak and tears rolling down her eyes. I grabbed her and yelled for the nurses.

After a few hours a number of tests were done. She was seen by both the ER doctor and a resident who worked for a neurosurgeon. The ER doctor had called him to come down because a catscan was done that revealed a suspicious mass in her right lobe. 

She was admitted and early Friday an MRI was done. Finally, late afternoon the attending physician came and so did Paul. For Paul to show up like that in the middle of his work day which is very hectic told me that this was serious. The attending turned out to be Dr. Y. Jonathan Zhang. Paul recognized him as a world-renown micro neurosurgeon but Dr. Zhang's business card is very modest. All it says is that he's an MD and works in the department of neurosurgery. There's not long list of initials after his name nor anything else that would reveal the stature of this man in the medical field.

Dr. Zhang is what central casting would come up with as either the premier physician or a lunatic tyrant out to conquer the world. Fortunately he chose the former. There is no middle ground with him. When his residents had checked Mom the day earlier, we go the impression from the way they talked about him that Dr. Zhang was some sort of celebrity which was later confirmed by Paul. But when he showed up he came alone, no retinue, no bells and incense heralding his arrival. A slim man of about five feet nine, his features spoke of an unusual man with deep, penetrating eyes that seemed to want to be part oriental, part occidental and which could open your soul as efficiently as he could open your body with his superbly-trained hands; large, round skull particularly in the back which speaks of intelligence, receding hairline with short hair and small but sharply bent ears pointing forward like radar dishes. Those are the ears of someone not interested in hearing everything, just specifically what he's looking for. The same features could be those of of a mad professor or a ruthless dictator. This is not a man that settles for a middling life. I don't know anything at all about him beyond what Paul told us but it would not surprise me to hear that he's a master black belt or an avid athlete or champion chess player in his spare time.

After listening to Mom’s detailed story of her medical issues and the symptoms that took her to the hospital, Dr. Zhang read the verdict from the MRI in a soft, clear and firm tone and with words that left little room for doubt: 95% certain it’s a tumor though no way to know what kind. It is a tumor inside the brain, in a delicate part of the right lobe. It can be a tumor that grew there or came from elsewhere. They will do a full scan to see if there is cancer anywhere else. If there is, then they’ll know for certain that the tumor is malignant. If not, then it is highly likely it grew there and based on his experience Dr. Zhang feels that the odds are that it’s malignant. Because it’s in the brain, doing a biopsy and doing brain surgery is the same thing so surgery is required.

Before they can do surgery they have to get rid of Plavix, a blood-thinner. Mom refused to get on Cumedin. For this to happen her body has to be flushed so to speak and that will take a few days so she’s not leaving the hospital anytime soon. After surgery they’ll know what they are dealing with and what sort of treatment will be needed. Dr. Zhang will ask a neuro oncologist to come see Mom this weekend if she hasn’t done so already.

Because the tumor is in a very delicate part of the brain Dr. Zhang said that he can’t be too aggressive during surgery. Paul thinks that there’s a strong likelihood Mom won’t be able to speak after surgery and maybe not be able to write. Fortunately Mom was born a leftie and is ambidextrous.

So life as we know it has just changed. Ironically, I’ve been taking care of Mom’s pets and her house for a month because she was out in California with my brother. She must have had some sort of inkling that she needed to go there for awhile. I remember when she decided to go. It was rather spontaneous and it seemed a bit extreme that she wanted to go for a month. Now I know why. I think she intuitively felt she had to go. She came back feeling very nostalgic and sad about San Diego. It brought back a lot of memories for her. That’s where she got divorced and where she met the two men she later married, Dick and Howard. In a way she may have gone there to say good-bye.

Now I’ll be taking care of her house and pets again except perhaps this time permanently. Even if the tumor is removed I really don’t think life will ever be the same again for any of us. And I’m feeling very, very sad. I miss her already.