He was only a child when it begun -and he played as children do- in his yardwith
his toy cars and tip trucksBut his sand was asbestos blue?
In December 1999, my husband and I were walking home from a game of lawn bowls
when I became aware of his shortness of breath. I was surprised and concerned
when he told me that he had experienced this on several occasions. Believing
this to be due to chest a infection, I made a doctor's appointment for him the
next day.
Chest X-rays revealed fluid on the lungs, over two litres of which was
drained, giving Brian immediate relief, but it was a tense wait for the
pathology results.Through the Internet I had become aware of several conditions
which may have been responsible for fluid on the lung; these included asbestos-
related diseases. Brian had lived in Wittenoom as a child and I was afraid of
his diagnosis. Not wanting to worry him unnecessarily, I did not mention my
fears to him. I prayed that he had pleurisy or pneumonia but the pathology
results revealed that there were cancer cells present.
When Brian finally received his diagnosis, my worst nightmare became reality.
He had pleural mesothelioma, a terminal cancer of the lung caused by the
inhalation of asbestos dust. We found it inconceivable that the disease was the
result of Brian inhaling asbestos dust as a child and that it had lain dormant
for forty-five years before become lethal.
We were still reeling from the shock when, without preamble, the young doctor
gave his prognosis. His exact words were, "Three to nine months, I reckon". That
he could say this so unfeelingly amazed me. His total lack of compassion did not
encourage even the small comfort of tears. I felt as if Brian and I had been
shot and from that moment on we were waiting to drop.
Undoubtedly, were mortally wounded. We suffered shock, disbelief, anger,
helplessness and utter despair; in fact all the symptoms of grief one feels when
a loved one has actually died. Once again we found ourselves with no control
over our lives. This time however, there was no light at the end of the tunnel.
Our journey through terminal illness had begun.
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