Before I begin my post, I'd like to examine the definition and roots of the word "mortality".
Definition :: The condition of being susceptible to death
Etymology :: from Old French mortel "destined to die,"
from Latin mortalis "subject to death," from mors (gen. mortis) "death."
This past week, three friends have suffered greatly for the loss of a loved one. A classmate, a best friend, and my own mother have learned of life's greatest shock- death. I'd like to share with you the story of Danny, my mother's friend.
My mother's former patient, Danny, and soon after steadfast friend, died last week from a misdiagnosed lymphoma in his gut. Bureaucracy in its ugliest form was his true cause of death though. He had been rushed through the hospital with the diagnosis of "Crohn's Disease," an incurable chronic inflammatory disease of the small or large intestine that is dealt with by treating the symptoms. However, he responded to none of the drugs. Actually, that's not true- he did respond lightly to a few, but they, coincidentially enough, were the same drugs often given in conjuction with chemotherapy drugs (those which he should have been on from the very beginning). Rather than being alarmed by this startling nonresponce, his arrogant doctors dismissed it as an unusual reprentation of Crohn's. This went on for a year. For a year he fought a cancer the size of your forearm with little to no help from his doctors. My mother was there though, taking him to the hospital when she could, keeping him company since his children and sister lived far out west. She became his friend when she met him on rounds and stayed his friend even after. I even had the pleasure of meeting him several times. He had an adorable fascination with Disney, particularly with Mini and Mickey Mouse. Danny enjoyed the theatre and good french pastries. He was, by all means, a kind soul- a diamond in Miami's rough. It wasn't until he went in last August for one of his countless colonoscopies that one doctor finally did not like the looks of something that had perforated his gut lining. He ordered a biospy, and sure enough, the correct diagnosis, lymphoma, was made and he was immediately prepped for chemotherapy. The chemo was rough on his old body, but he showed great promise. The cancer receeded and shrunk to a fraction of its original size. But, ultimately, the cancer won. Chemotherapy, for those of you unfamiliar with it, is a brutal treatment option. You essentially kill yourself in effort to purge those cells that you don't want. However, this isn't a precise method. It's like trying to flatten a single bad nail in a sea of good nails with a giant Whack-A-Mole hammer. However, such is the treatment because cancer cells are technically your own cells- making it hard for the drugs to differentiate. No, he fought hard, but with a compromised immune system (again, thanks to the chemo) he developed serious infections. Would he have survived if he had begun chemotherapy when he entered the hospital? In all likelihood, yes. His death means a lot to me. It showed me that even though you can show so much promise with one treatment, life is never certain. I also learned to love each day like it would be your last. Finally, I learned never to take a diagnosis for granted. Danny's presentation wasn't atypical. It was wrong. My mother recognized it as wrong and brought it up with his doctor several times. The arrogant surgeon laughed at the "silly medical student," my mother, and assured her that this was just an atypical presentation and that, as a medical student, she had a lot to learn. I have never wished that someone rot in Hell (as I actually do not believe in Hell), but today, I hope that there is a something far worse awaiting this man: remorse. However, emotional vengence will not bring Danny back, and I know it. What will bring Danny, and the other two lost loved ones of this week, is loving memory. These people must be remembered for what they've done for you. From something so simple as a smile, or in Danny's case, a phenomenal chocolate chip cookie recipe, we must cherish these memories and keep these people alive at all times in our minds.
I hope we never have this bad of a week ever again.
- Jonathan
