Entry # 2
By the title: Malignant Neoplasm of Thymus.
is the type of cancer that caused my father's death. Only once my father told me his story with cancer, but the frustration and disgust of others mistakes made me know it by heart:
At an early stage, my father had a strange cough with blood coming out as symptoms. He went through the normal everyday check-ups yet they found nothing wrong with them. So, he was referred to a doctor in the oncology department to run certain scans that detect tumors. After a couple of scans, the results came out. My father was told that he had a tumor, but it was a benign one i.e. not lethal. For two years my father was having the same symptoms and checking with the same doctors who reassured him that it's a benign.
Again, he was suggested to a good doctor abroad in a hospital with 'modern' scanning equipment. So he travelled and got his body scan and lo and behold; he's got malignant neoplasm of thymus at a developed stage. Which, if detected in earlier stages would've been easily removed after a couple of chemotherapy treatments.
The fact that he would have lived if the cancer was diagnosed properly kills me! It frustrates me that such mistakes can be done.
But then, when I think of it. My father NEVER pointed fingers at the doctor who mis-diagnosed him. He even told me this story ONCE only and not everybody is aware of it.
This simply means that it did not matter to him.
Why?
But why?
When I think of it logically - putting aside that it happened to my father, stripping my head off that fact - I think I see why.
Every person is dead without clinical aids, by default. IF it wasn't for the doctors in oncology they wouldn't have known what's wrong with him in the first place, and he wouldn't have lived long enough.
I don't know whether this was his logic or not. But I know one thing. My father chose to live what remained of his life without pointing fingers or suing those who misdiagnosed him. That is 15 years from the first recorded detection.
He lived a life that mattered and made a change. His life had a meaning.
Rest in Peace, Salim Al Braiki.
Rest in Peace, father.
By the title: Malignant Neoplasm of Thymus.
is the type of cancer that caused my father's death. Only once my father told me his story with cancer, but the frustration and disgust of others mistakes made me know it by heart:
At an early stage, my father had a strange cough with blood coming out as symptoms. He went through the normal everyday check-ups yet they found nothing wrong with them. So, he was referred to a doctor in the oncology department to run certain scans that detect tumors. After a couple of scans, the results came out. My father was told that he had a tumor, but it was a benign one i.e. not lethal. For two years my father was having the same symptoms and checking with the same doctors who reassured him that it's a benign.
Again, he was suggested to a good doctor abroad in a hospital with 'modern' scanning equipment. So he travelled and got his body scan and lo and behold; he's got malignant neoplasm of thymus at a developed stage. Which, if detected in earlier stages would've been easily removed after a couple of chemotherapy treatments.
The fact that he would have lived if the cancer was diagnosed properly kills me! It frustrates me that such mistakes can be done.
But then, when I think of it. My father NEVER pointed fingers at the doctor who mis-diagnosed him. He even told me this story ONCE only and not everybody is aware of it.
This simply means that it did not matter to him.
Why?
But why?
When I think of it logically - putting aside that it happened to my father, stripping my head off that fact - I think I see why.
Every person is dead without clinical aids, by default. IF it wasn't for the doctors in oncology they wouldn't have known what's wrong with him in the first place, and he wouldn't have lived long enough.
I don't know whether this was his logic or not. But I know one thing. My father chose to live what remained of his life without pointing fingers or suing those who misdiagnosed him. That is 15 years from the first recorded detection.
He lived a life that mattered and made a change. His life had a meaning.
Rest in Peace, Salim Al Braiki.
Rest in Peace, father.
