Mom has decided that a biopsy is not going to happen. The risks are too great. There is a small chance that an infection or pneumonia would take hold, and there is no way should would survive that. The biopsy would only tell whether another medication would be useful to her or not.
But her current meds seem to be working still. She is now on her cancer-fighting medication four times a week. She can’t possibly do seven because it robs her of energy. Quality of life is not laying down for hours at a time during the day and having no energy to get up. So this is good balance for her. She was so worried about telling Floyd and me her decision, but we support her.
Her X-ray shows that a large piece of cancer has shrunken down to a size that can’t be detected by X-ray. Of course, it’s still there, but it’s certainly diminished in size since her previous X-ray. I don’t know when her next CT Scan or X-ray will be.
Her mornings are still slow. It takes her a while to get going. She asks for help in getting food. Floyd and I get what she wants, although both her taste and appetite aren’t really there much. She gets hungry, but after a few bites she says she can’t eat much. “Not too much,” she states with nearly every meal. I joke with her, saying that she says it pretty much every time. Something to laugh at.