I believe I have touched on this before in a short post. Since then many incidents took place with my young cousin, a stage III metastatic osteosarcoma patient by now. Drama and reflections aside (that will need a whole series, I guess), she had an amputation in her right leg knee and down. After that the tumor spread to her lungs. She had an operation to remove it, and a month later, just two days ago actually, I received her scan results: the tumor spread to her spinal cord. We knew when she couldn’t feel or step on her one foot anymore.
The past three hours to this post have been an online research into this dark world. I lost my Mom to this disease, and I acutely remember how she was strictly against chemo and radio therapy. My cousin however had undergone countless sessions of radio and chemo that surrounded the two operations she had so far. In a call with my uncle, he told me that the doctors were quite at loss this time. The tumor is too aggressive and unpredictable and an indecisive consultation regarding whether to proceed with an additional surgery, or rather opt for some chemo sessions instead had made everyone confused. Uncle said: “First it’s in the knee, then lungs and now in spine. If I decide to surgically remove it, how do I know it won’t pop up somewhere else?”. Apparently, no doctor answered that question. It’s contested worldwide as well, actually.
Earlier today I had also contacted two renowned Egyptian scientists who issued a paper on using nano-technology in tumor treatments! Their work is at such an early stage they didn’t make any significant recommendations, though. Their subject set never included humans, and they’re still in some approval phase with some scientific boards. Also, they said it would have been a tall order anyway, because their work focuses on localized infections, and that it won’t help much with cases that malignant or that advanced.
A question to uncle about considering travel was met with a thinly painful desperate “For what?”. Uncle seems to have begun to lose hope. The mortality rates I have eyed online aren’t too romantic, to top it all off, unfortunately.
If, my dear reader, you happen to know (actually know, don’t spend too much time in research, been there, done that) a very good doctor who can help, or direct to help, it’d be great if you pass me their contacts.
And, pray for her, please. She’s one of the sweetest persons I know.
God, I used to run with her in my arms around the house a decade ago! Saturday noon she sat with such a defying smile in her wheelchair, waiting for her room in the emergency unit. Same smile, fatigue in eyes. But same smile..
May you never face that deadly Cancer thing ever you guys, in-sha’Allah.