It was just getting dark when I landed in Cairo. I took the bus to the downtown
terminal behind the Egyptian Museum and tried three places before finding a room at
the Sun Hotel on Sharia Talaat Harb.
The next day I had difficulty breathing and felt miserable. I stayed in my room
hoping to get better and took this picture of Cairo's roofs from my window. I found
the Sun hotel's toilets too dirty and moved to the Lotus hotel up the street on the
following day.
The Lotus was spotless and the staff friendly and helpful when they saw I was sick.
I was not getting better with only rest and pain killers so after a few days I went
to the Anglo American Hospital where a generalist doctor prescribed a muscle relaxant
to ease the pain and an expectorant to clear my lungs of accumulated mucus.
I expected to be able to visit Alexandria and the western oases after a few more
days of rest in my hotel but my condition did not improve. I went back to see the
doctor who added a diuretic to help eliminate the oedema that kept me from breathing
normally.
After another week, a sandstorm blew in from the western desert darkening the sky
over Cairo. Breathing became even more difficult. I gave up my plans of touring parts
of Egypt I had not seen yet and decided to fly to Lisbon to see a specialist.
I had difficulty breathing on the Alitalia flight but my friend Miguel managed
to get me an appointment with a pneumologist the very next day. This doctor also prescribed
an expectorant and a diuretic. I was still hoping to get better so I could visit Oporto
and Madeira but my condition did not improve.
Finally I used my return ticket with KLM via Amsterdam. The Lisbon - Amsterdam
flight was difficult and I was very weak when I got there. A KLM doctor interrupted
my return trip and sent me to the Amsterdam University Hospital for a CT scan to check
for lung embolism. I was impressed with the warmth and efficiency with which I was
treated in that hospital. I could see everything that was going on from my ringside
bed in the emergency ward. Here, a smiling nurse is bringing me an extra pillow.
The scan for embolism was negative and I flew back to Montreal the next day with
oxygen. I wonder if they saw the big nodule in my right lung that turned out to be
cancerous. They did suggest that I should see a pneumologist...
Montreal
I arrived on thursday March 9th and could not reach Dr. Lam, my family doctor
on the phone until monday (4 days later). I had difficulty breathing and was
feeling terrible but used that time to go through three months of accumulated mail.
When he finally did return my call, all he had to say was to suggest I should go to
an emergency ward. We have universal free medical services in Canada but the delays
are very bad.
On March 14th, I was finally admitted in the St-Luc Hospital, which, along with
the Notre-Dame and Hôtel-Dieu hospitals, is part of the Montreal University
Hospital (CHUM). They kept me a week to carry out an impressive battery of tests of
which a PET scan carried out at the Hôtel-Dieu hospital. Then, I had to wait
two weeks before meeting a pneumologist, Dr. Matar, who had not yet received
the PET scan results from the Hôtel-Dieu hospital when he saw me on April 4th.
We hah to wait a few minutes before getting that report, urgently faxed from the Hôtel-Dieu.
After reading it, Dr. Matar announced that the tests indicated cancer in both lungs
and in the central ganglia. That very severe diagnosis was confirmed by a bronchosopic
wash taken by Dr. Mayer, that revealed cancerous cells in my right lung.
Unfortunately the request for an appointment with an oncologist was put in my file
instead of being dent to the Notre-Dame hospital where the oncology department is
located. After two weeks waiting and I forget how many attempts to get news by telephone
I was told that the request for an appointment could not be found. I had to ring bells,
wave flags and make myself obnoxious to get things moving again. If I had not done
so my file would still be forgotten in the archives of St-Luc hospital.
Five weeks after the diagnostic condemnig me to a probable survival measurable
in months, I finally met, on May 11th, an oncologist, Dr Devaux, who
ordered other tests and a biopsy to check if the ganglia behind my sternum were indeed
cancerous.
Then, I had to wait four weeks for the biopsy to be taken by Dr. Ferraro
on June 9th at the Notre-Dame hospital. This was a minor operation under general anaesthesia
and I was able to go back home the same day. I then had to wait almost four weeks
more before meeting Dr. Ferraro again on July 4th who told me that the cancer had not reached
the ganglia but that my lungs had been so badly damaged by pulmonary fibrosis and
emphysema that the elimination of the cancer by surgery was not practicable.
To save time, I carried my case file myself the same day to the Notre-Dame hospital's
radiology department and was advised a week later that a scan would be taken on July
18th in order to so plan an appropriate radiotherapy for my case. On the 18th I met
Dr. Coulombe who informed me she would discuss my case on the 24th at a meeting
with other specialists. As far as I know, this was the first such face to face meeting
in more than four months since my admission into the system. Following that meeting
"they" decided that I would undergo a second bronchoscopy, this one including
a biopsy to be done on July 25th by Dr. Gagnon.
After being examined by six specialists during the last five months, I still did
not have a clear diagnostic let alone a prognosis about the future. When I complained
about this uncertainty and about not being told what was going on, I was assured with
the overbearing authority of specialist doctors that all was well in the best of worlds.
All might have been well for the system but not for my morale. I therefore asked for
an antidepressant and obtained an appointment for July 25th with Dr. Quenneville
who could prescribe one. I got there an hour ahead of time on the 25th after my second
bronchoscopy. Two hours later a clerc told me that Dr. Quenneville was away on vacations
and I would have to wait till the 29th of August to see him!
Two weeks later, on August 7th, I met Dr. Coulombe again who explained that the
ganglion biopsy taken by Dr. Gagnon was negative like the one taken by scalpel by
Dr. Ferraro. The middle lobe wash was also negative but the upper lobe wash found
some "suspect" cells that could have come from the big nodule that had been
declared cancerous initially. We would now take a third biopsy to verify that diagnostic.
A trans-thoracic biopsy was taken under local anaesthasia on August 21st by Dr.Chalaoui
who inserted a hollow needle directly into what was supposed to be my cancer.
I got the good news on September 5th. No cancerous cells were found! It
was only a large fibrosis nodule and the previous tests had been "false positives".
However, I was not yet out of the woods for it had grown in the last six months and
fibrosis and enphysema had reduced my respiratory capacity to 30% of what it should
be.
... to be followed ...
As far as I know, I now have more time ahead of me but I am nevertheless engaged
in the last phase of the great adventure my life has been (and still is). After more
than ten years of sharing my adventures and impressions with you, I have become used
to doing it so I will try to keep you posted on the sequence of events here and in
a separate text on
the evolution of my thoughts
and feelings as death approaches. Be patient, it could take a couple of years.
Updated in September 2006