After being redmitted for pain management control on the 28th Feb. we thought a few days back in the ward - no probs.
The Pet CT scan had confirmed our worst fears. The melanoma had metatarsized, spreading through her pelvis, spine, lungs, shoulder blades and skull. What was left? The questions and feelings half rising to the surface but not quite surfacing through alternating feelings of despair, disbelief, courage, strength and the over-riding one of being absolutely bloody useless. Tears, anger and more helplessness followed all of us. Wayne & I were called into a side room to talk to her consultant and Professor Patel. We were asked what we were thinking, what were we expecting? I remember vividly Wayne sitting bolt upright in his chair saying "Kate was a fighter - she had had the mole removed and was ok - this was harder, but she will fight it - she'll be ok. She has to be ok." It was almost an order, a pleading with God. He became silent and I remember saying " I think we will be very lucky to have a daughter for Christmas". A box of tissues was handed to us, and mugs of tea placed before us. There was no rush, no looking at the clock on the wall, just a silent feeling of futility. Martin (her consultant) asked us gently if we wanted Katie to know the truth, what did we want him to place on her private notes to signify to the nurses how to handle the situation. We asked for her not to be told, she never was. He explained that Katie was an above average intellegent person. If she asked him, he would be forced to tell her the truth, he owed her that -it was the least he could do for her. He would ensure she was in a little pain as possible, that anything she needed was available to her and would contact our own doctor to keep him updated. As we stood to leave the room, we braced ourselves and replaced the calm exteriors we had come to show, or tried to. Before leaving the room we were hugged by a Professor and a consultant, quietly hearing " I'm so sorry - you're such a lovely family". We had tried so hard.
Radio therapy started on the 5th March to help ease the pain.
7th March saw us going home for a few days till Tuesday - we'd feel much better at home.
8th March saw us rushing her back in - again the pain was out of control. Patches again doubled to 300mg.
Patches obviously working as on the 11th Katie awoke with no pain! She managed a shower and put some make-up on.
12th. Katie tumbled when trying to get back into bed. By now it was too far for her to walk to the en-suite bathroom so she had a shower chair which she was able to sit in to be wheeled into the shower and a commode at the side of the bed.
13th March the chemo started. The 12 hours before she had to be on "hydration", then the chemotherapy( a cisplatin and dacarbazine mix) was bought into the room after darkness. Any light touching it would cause the toxins in it to be released and poison her system. The curtains were drawn and the light put out. A cover was placed over the chemo stand. It stood guard at the side of the bed from 9pm till 5 or 6 in the morning. Her legs felt numb and funny, but no sickness from the chemo so maybe it wasnt that bad.
A new air mattress was ordered for her to help with this new sensation in her back and legs. on the 22nd she came home for the afternoon and managed really well. Maybe it was the chemo making her so weak? Maybe it was working....
It wasnt. The cancer we found out had now eaten into the spine so much the vertebrae had collapsed in on the central nervous column, causing paralysis and lack of sensation from her neck down. The arms and hands still worked ok but she couldnt feel much in her lower body. The end of March saw her spine being cemented to stop further collapse. Now she could no longer weight bare, move her legs, or walk. Suddenly it became harder to find anything good to smile about. Why our beautiful Katie? There were no answers forthcoming.
