Finally home after a marathon day at the cancer clinic. I am seated at my home office desk, a very large glass of white wine within easy reach, my SRNA license in tatters on the floor. 

Turns out that the sore calf muscle we have all been massaging since she fell two weeks ago is actually a blood clot. Fat lot of good it did having a “nurse” in the family. Thank goodness we got a thorough resident today who actually examined mom and noticed her left leg was swollen. And yes, she had mentioned it to me this morning, but what she actually said was “my ankle is sore again and it is starting to swell again” and so we talked about her need to get to her family doctor and get an X-ray done. That’s my excuse and I am sticking to it.

So now we add daily injections of Tinzaparin into the mix for the next 6 months. I asked Dr. K’s nurse Jackie to contact Home Care to see if they could share the job with me. I am sure once she gets over the shock of the news mom will be willing to do it herself. At least that is my hope. Mom can’t seem to get past the thought that we might have dislodged it and killed her. I suggested she too should have a strong drink tonight and then I thought of Paulette all the way home.

Today reinforced the fact that the two sides of the cancer house (radiation and chemo) don’t talk to each other. Dr. K (who was 30 minutes late, and my mom was 30 minutes early so we were already tired and cranky before we begin), began explaining yet again that radiation isn’t an option right now. I asked him why he thought we were there to see him – he said for a regular follow up appointment. I said no, we are here for you to interpret the bone scan results and discuss the need/option of targeted radiation to her spine and ribs. “What bone scan?” he replied. But bless his heart, he then spent the next 10 minutes doing a detailed comparison between all the test results and in the end we are still in the same situation – the spots could be cancer, could be result of trauma. Bone cancer does not respond to chemo. So the best option is to get through the next two cycles of chemo, repeat CT scan and then decide. If the spots are better – then it is trauma induced. If they are worse – likely cancer and need radiation. It sounded like a good plan to us.

Next stop – pharmacy for a medication review. This was news to us but we are pretty cooperative patients. The pharmacist says I want to review all the medications you are on. My mom says “I am not on any meds”. The pharmacist looks at her likes she is crazy and pulls out the two page PIP profile and proceeds to ask her about all the drugs dispensed in the last few months (Ativan, Dilaudid, Tylenol with codeine, Ranitadine, Steroids…). I started to laugh and I said “Mom, your drug profile is terrifying and they are worried you might actually be taking all these drugs”. We confirmed we were only hooked on the stool softener and off we went for blood work.

Next stop oncology and the lovely and earnest Dr. A. As soon as I saw his facial expression when mom showed him her swollen leg I KNEW it was a clot. We were off to RUH Medical Imaging, had an ultrasound and were back in the clinic in 30 minutes. Jackie was waiting with a syringe full of anti-clotting medication and an amused look on her face (OK, maybe I just imagined she was laughing at the two obtuse nurses).

 I am trying to rebuild my self-esteem by pointing out that if mom had not had so many falls and injuries, that if she was just having chemo and one day said “Gee my calf is sore” that the old RN from E4 would have immediately diagnosed it. I am trying to sell that story – but will need some more wine to finish the deal.