“Every sickness has an alien quality, a feeling of invasion and
loss of control that is evident in the language we use about it.”―Siri Hustvedt, The Shaking Woman, or A History of My Nerves
As promised, this is where things really began to just fall apart. Around November 2011 my mom started losing weight. Doctors just brushed her off saying she must be stressed over my brother's deployment. By the time January rolled around her abdomen was really bothering her. Tests were done and gall stones were discovered. Everyone thought this was the cause of her pain so her gallbladder was removed. Unfortunately this didn't solve the pain issue. My mom was still hurting on her left side. More tests were done, but we had no answers. I think one of the hardest things up to this point was receiving a phone call early one morning from my grandmother about my mom feeling really sick. My grandmother was in tears and didn't know what to do. She was really worried because my mom hadn't been eating and lost more weight. A few hours later I found out she had been admitted to the hospital. By this point everyone knew it definitely was not stress because my brother made it back home from Afghanistan. My mom was referred to see doctors up at the Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville, but like every other time, we were left disappointed. Several tests were run from MRI to CT scans, to blood work. I remember my mom going in for a P.E.T. scan. It's horrible to say, but I was praying for something even if it meant cancer because we would then finally know what was going on with my mom. I mean...who prays for cancer? Thankfully an ultra sound showed something. A gynecologist discovered pelvic varices that were pushing her organs to one side and referred her a surgeon. The surgeon, at first, didn't want to preform the surgery. He believed that they weren't bad enough. Thankfully I was able to be there for that procedure. The surgery had taken longer than expected, turns out the varicose veins were far more extensive than what had originally shown on the ultra sound. We were hopeful that this would solve her pain problem and were told she should feel a large amount of relief in two weeks, but again, we were disappointed. Meanwhile my mom had been seeing a gastroenterologist who didn't seem to believe anything my mom said about having pain after eating. I think this doctor just blew her off and thought she had an eating disorder. Once my mom was told, "have a nice summer" by this uncaring doctor we decided to write her off. Which makes me think of "Dr. Death." Dr. Death is a GI doctor in Ocala. During one visit he asked my mom about 5 times, in 20 minutes, "do you drink? do you smoke? are you anorexic or bulimic?" I wish things were that simple. Every test continued to return normal results, she didn't have cancer, so what was causing all of the pain?
It's so hard to watch someone you love feel so weak. To know that you must limit your time running errands because your mom will start to feel horrible. It's torture seeing someone you love in pain, to see how hungry they are, but must make a decision...eat and be in pain or starve and lose more weight. How do you comfort your little sister that tells her mom, "I'm afraid you're going to die," when you are just as worried. So many people were unaware of what we were going through. My dad's family didn't even know that my mom had been so sick until a few days ago.
I just want to take a break here and thank everyone that spent countless hours reading hundreds of articles to try and figure out what was causing my mom so much pain. If it hadn't been for their persistence I honestly believe my mom would've given up by now. Even after someone came up with a great theory she still didn't believe that was something she could have.
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