Ascites has been building in my mother for quite some time again. The fluid is the initial reason why I flew home on November 6, 2008; the damn thing occurs out of nowhere, and the top two causes are tuberculosis and cancer. My mother got the latter.
In my mother's case, she starts to feel bloated and one starts to see her stomach distend, which makes her look like one of those poor starving children one sees in the World Vision commercials. The fluid builds in the peritoneal cavity - the sac that houses the internal organs (yeah, I didn't know we had an organ holder either...good thinking evolution...or God...or whatever likes to take credit). The fluid buildup is symptomatic of the stress the cancer causes, and though the ascites returns my mother feels relief from the removal. The first time the doctors withdrew 1 liter. This time they removed 1.4 liters, which may not seem like much, but my mother weighs approximately 100 lbs and is about 5' 2". The fluid looks like apple cider as it sits in glass 1 liter containers.
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We've been watching a fuck ton of Korean soap operas, but these 30 minute or hourlong dramas utilize the hackneyed and prosaic devices that have propelled all soap operas forward. In turn, this means that we've encountered the (wait for it) medical emergency stage in the series. Unfortunately both dramas prominently feature matrons who are facing a terminal disease, except in each case a mystery donor will emerge, and once again deus ex machina becomes the plot device of choice. We don't have any of that...neither mystery donor nor plot devices, though if you were to ask my father he'd say we're lacking the deus part.
I watch as she loses interest. The characters, she knows, will end with the show. And we'll be left here alone.
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I think we go home tonite.
