My mother, Karen Gallagher, was diagnosed with squamous cell lung cancer in spring 1995, and died in our home on Christmas Day 1996, the day after my 25th birthday. By the time her cancer was finally diagnosed in spring 1995, it had metastasized to her brain and was therefore deemed inoperable. She was only 49 years old. She was a strong, courageous woman who had beaten colon cancer at the age of 37, lost my father when they were in their early 40s, and went on to start a young widowed persons' support group. She endured chemotherapy and radiation, welcomed the nurses and other medical professionals into her life with friendship, and never dwelled on the fairness or unfairness of her situation.
What have I learned from this experience? Unfortunately, some medical practitioners do not pay attention to lung cancer and its symptoms in younger, otherwise "healthy" women. My mother complained of a persistent cough to her general practitioner many months before her diagnosis. I wonder why, given her history of smoking, her insurance company did not immediately authorize a chest X-ray? She was referred to an ENT specialist, who after conducting a series of allergy tests concluded that her symptoms were present "because she lived in New England" (sinister air quality perhaps?) and gave her an inhaler. It was only when I noticed that my mother's fingernails were clubbed (a classic sign of lung disease) that she was able to convince her GP to convince the insurance company to pay for a chest X-ray.
While my mother had access to the best specialists at Yale New Haven Hospital, there were no experimental treatments available to her. Editor's note: Not all individuals are eligible for clinical trials. The type and stage of the lung cancer the individual has, as well as the individual's overall health and previous treatment(s) are factors in eligibility for a given trial. I hope the situation has changed in the last decade, but I fear that the development of new treatments for lung cancer suffers from the disease's not being "fashionable" enough. While my mother was fortunate to have good medical insurance, the insurance company delayed payment on everything from wigs to chemotherapy. Surely, it's not right for patients to suffer this stress when they're facing a potentially life-limiting illness?
My mother had quit smoking a few years before her diagnosis, after many years of being a heavy smoker. When she started smoking in the 60s, it was fashionable and everyone was blithely unaware of the health risks. Who was to blame for her cancer diagnosis? She could have sued a tobacco company or her GP, but would this have helped her, her family, or indeed any future patients? If anything, the Government should do more to force tobacco companies to fund medical research. On the other side of the coin, many individuals, pharmaceutical companies and medical establishments seem to portray the belief that former smokers "deserve" to get cancer and therefore developing screening and treatment for smoking-related lung cancer (or any lung cancer) does not get adequate attention or funding.
The medical profession--especially doctors--needs to treat patients more holistically, rather than seeing them as a collection of symptoms or problems. In addition to her conventional treatment, my mother saw a naturopath (they are, fortunately, licensed to practice as physicians in Connecticut), who supported her through the ravages of chemotherapy and radiation. I am sure that my mother lived longer than projected because of this support, and it helped me to deal with the situation.
So, 10 years after my mother's death, where am I? I am troubled that breakthroughs in lung cancer treatment have not proceeded as quickly as they should have, because of the attention lavished on more "fashionable" diseases and the Government's seeming indifference to the situation. Surely, the human costs of lung cancer, for patients, their loved ones and society, are too great to ignore?
On a more positive note, I have managed to find happiness in my life after my mother's death. While I could spend every Christmas dwelling on the anniversary of her death, and am still overcome by grief sometimes, I am truly grateful to enjoy the traditions she passed on to me. A few years ago, I was amazed when a single white rose bloomed in my garden on a cold Christmas Day. Surely, that was my mother confirming my belief that there is hope after lung cancer.
What have I learned from this experience? Unfortunately, some medical practitioners do not pay attention to lung cancer and its symptoms in younger, otherwise "healthy" women. My mother complained of a persistent cough to her general practitioner many months before her diagnosis. I wonder why, given her history of smoking, her insurance company did not immediately authorize a chest X-ray? She was referred to an ENT specialist, who after conducting a series of allergy tests concluded that her symptoms were present "because she lived in New England" (sinister air quality perhaps?) and gave her an inhaler. It was only when I noticed that my mother's fingernails were clubbed (a classic sign of lung disease) that she was able to convince her GP to convince the insurance company to pay for a chest X-ray.
While my mother had access to the best specialists at Yale New Haven Hospital, there were no experimental treatments available to her. Editor's note: Not all individuals are eligible for clinical trials. The type and stage of the lung cancer the individual has, as well as the individual's overall health and previous treatment(s) are factors in eligibility for a given trial. I hope the situation has changed in the last decade, but I fear that the development of new treatments for lung cancer suffers from the disease's not being "fashionable" enough. While my mother was fortunate to have good medical insurance, the insurance company delayed payment on everything from wigs to chemotherapy. Surely, it's not right for patients to suffer this stress when they're facing a potentially life-limiting illness?
My mother had quit smoking a few years before her diagnosis, after many years of being a heavy smoker. When she started smoking in the 60s, it was fashionable and everyone was blithely unaware of the health risks. Who was to blame for her cancer diagnosis? She could have sued a tobacco company or her GP, but would this have helped her, her family, or indeed any future patients? If anything, the Government should do more to force tobacco companies to fund medical research. On the other side of the coin, many individuals, pharmaceutical companies and medical establishments seem to portray the belief that former smokers "deserve" to get cancer and therefore developing screening and treatment for smoking-related lung cancer (or any lung cancer) does not get adequate attention or funding.
The medical profession--especially doctors--needs to treat patients more holistically, rather than seeing them as a collection of symptoms or problems. In addition to her conventional treatment, my mother saw a naturopath (they are, fortunately, licensed to practice as physicians in Connecticut), who supported her through the ravages of chemotherapy and radiation. I am sure that my mother lived longer than projected because of this support, and it helped me to deal with the situation.
So, 10 years after my mother's death, where am I? I am troubled that breakthroughs in lung cancer treatment have not proceeded as quickly as they should have, because of the attention lavished on more "fashionable" diseases and the Government's seeming indifference to the situation. Surely, the human costs of lung cancer, for patients, their loved ones and society, are too great to ignore?
On a more positive note, I have managed to find happiness in my life after my mother's death. While I could spend every Christmas dwelling on the anniversary of her death, and am still overcome by grief sometimes, I am truly grateful to enjoy the traditions she passed on to me. A few years ago, I was amazed when a single white rose bloomed in my garden on a cold Christmas Day. Surely, that was my mother confirming my belief that there is hope after lung cancer.
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