Most of you, I presume, have read my previous, but apparently all-too-infrequent (to judge from the number of people regularly requesting more information, and more often) posts about my dear wife’s health crisis.
If you have, you already know that at the beginning of this year Leslie began to experience a mysterious and excruciating pain in the center right region of her back.
Though I frequently drove her to chiropractors and massage therapists, these visits, as well as over-the-counter pain relievers, only provided a temporary diminishing, never an elimination, of the pain. On a scale of 1 to 10 — 10 being “the worst pain you’ve ever felt in your life” (which would almost certainly also describe Leslie’s experiences in giving birth to our numerous children, as eight of these — i.e., all but the two necessary C-sections — were non-medicated), her back pain almost daily reached a 10. Aspirin and other non-prescription drugstore pain relievers only brought it down a few notches.
About three months ago, in addition to this constant and cryptic back pain, Leslie began to experience an additional — and equally inexplicable — affliction: a crippling weakness, a shakiness, an almost inability to function.
From the dynamic, vibrant, vivacious, hard-working, healthy, active (easily accomplishing intense 1-2 hour workouts at the YMCA five days a week) companion she had been since we got married 35 years ago, my lovely wife became a housebound (and, eventually, practically chair-bound) invalid (except when I would drive her to a doctor’s appointment, which increased to a weekly and then twice-a-week frequency).
A chiropractor we next visited who was also a functional doctor had a medical lab analyze her blood, urine, and hair samples. The lengthy (16-page) report the lab generated indicated high levels of toxic metals and other substances in her blood, especially tin, for which we had no explanation. (We have a high-quality filter on our tap water, and despite that only drink bottled spring water.)
A regimen of special supplements to rejuvenate Leslie’s liver and then, in the second month, to neutralize and eliminate these toxins in her system, while undoubtedly healthful, resulted in no marked improvement in her condition.
This debilitation of her health, aggravated by her inability to eat more than two or three mouthfuls of food at a “meal” without vomiting it back up due to an extreme difficulty in swallowing, resulted in Leslie’s losing over 25 pounds over the last two months.
Late Sunday night (48 hours ago) my wife finally told me to take her to the emergency room, as she felt (in her words) that she was dying.
In addition to two separate blood tests — one at the beginning of the several hours we spent in an examination room in the hospital’s emergency section, and one at the end of that period — as well as an x-ray and a CAT scan, we consulted with three different doctors, including a specialist.
We’d originally been told we could expect to leave the emergency room and return home around noon on Monday after all the tests had been performed. One of the doctors, however, stunned us by announcing that he was having Leslie admitted to the hospital as an in-patient due to the fact the CAT scan showed what seemed to be a cancerous growth 4 centimeters in size in her right lung, as well as nodes of the same suspicious-looking mass on her adrenal glands (which sit atop the kidneys), which he suspected had likely metastasized from the tumor-like growth in her lung.