Yesterday, I spent the day in the hospital with my sister.  Keeping her company, listening to her babbling about superficial things.  I am glad I waited because her oncologist stopped by at 8:00 PM and I got a chance to talk to him both in the room and in the hallway.

My sister constantly refused to follow through with her treatment.  Oh, she would go for one.  Then skip the rest for a month.  That is like taking an antibiotic that needs to be taken daily once a week.  Totally ineffective.

It was very frustrating for the doctor.  He had to shell out 3 grand for the treatment for her then she canceled.  What’s worse she had gotten all the side effects of the chemo with NONE of the benefits.  It’s is hard for him to see a patient that he could have saved be killed by the disease.

I had asked him what her chances were for a 5 year survival if she had stuck with the treatment regiment.  He replied “Very good, even at this stage, breast cancer responds well to treatment.”

My blood boiled.  I was so angry I wanted to shake her. How could she be such a ding bat with her life?  She was told, chemo therapy needs to be applied at intervals to kill the cancer cells.

At some point in the conversation, I turned to her and said “Do you hear what the doctor is saying?  There was nothing in his arsenal to fight this cancer that he could have given you.  You refused the regiment, now it’s too late.”

I left the room.  I wanted to talk to the doctor out of earshot of my sister, as well as calm myself down.  In the corridor I walked with the doctor after he left her room.

“How long do you think she has?”
“One month, perhaps 2 at best.”
“If she started and stuck with the treatment now would it buy her more time?”
“Doubtful.  It has spread even further.  It may slow it down a bit, it may not. I would say at this point to make her comfortable.  That will be difficult since she refuses to take the pain medication at the proper dose also.  That’s how she winds up in the hospital every week.  She can’t take half the dosage and expect full results.”

Then we spoke about the genetic test for me as well as the effectiveness of mastectomies.  He feels that they really don’t make a dent in the survival rate, chemo therapy is what dose it.  Hmmm perhaps I will not opt for a double if they find cancer in me. 

I thanked the doctor for his time and went back to her room.
“What did you talk about?”
“My chances of getting breast cancer and you.”
“How much time do I have.”
“Three months at best.  Make the most of them.”

She then began babbling about how she forgot to pack underwear as I gathered my things.  A young man came into the room and told us he was the night tech that will be on staff.  A friendly young fellow that obviously liked people.

I gave my sister a peck on the cheek and told her I would see her soon.   Visiting hours were over 30 minuets ago & I did not want security to ask me to leave.  As I walked down the corridor the young man asked me how I was holding up. I told him “As good as can be expected under the circumstances.” he then asked me if there was anything he get or give my sister help.  I replied “Company, she likes company.”  “Done!” He then wished me well as I got into the elevator. I knew Dee was in good hands for now.  So long as she is not in her own hands she dose well.