"We Can't Kill Your Mother" and Other Stories of Intensive Care
by Lawrence Martin, M.D.
Table of Contents

NOTE: "We Can't Kill Your Mother" and Other Stories of Intensive Care can be downloaded in its entirety as an e-book from 1st Books Library ($4.95). The book can also be ordered in trade paperback format for $13.50. For purchasing the e-book or print versions, please go to 1st Books Library and enter part of the book's title or the author in their search engine. Below are the first few paragraphs of EXTRAORDINARY CARE

Helga Bowman was 60 when her life went into a tailspin. Within one week of March, 1982, she learned of cancer in her right breast and emphysema in both lungs.

On March 12 she consulted a surgeon for a breast lump. Suspicious right away, Dr. Spivey explained it could be cancerous and that she might need a mastectomy. He biopsied the lump with a thin needle, removing just a few cells for microscopic examination. The next day, March 13, Dr. Spivey received a verbal pathology report: malignancy. He promptly called Mrs. Bowman, told her the diagnosis, and scheduled a mastectomy for March 16. Because of her long smoking history he also ordered pulmonary function tests and asked her to see me.

Mrs. Bowman came to my office on March 14. A middle-aged, kindly-appearing woman with a big smile, she displayed all the telltale signs of emphysema: raised shoulders; slightly pursed lips; slow gait; and contraction of neck muscles with each breath. Most emphysema patients are thin and she was no exception, weighing 110 pounds and standing five feet two. She wore a plain cotton dress and little makeup, and kept her brown hair brushed straight back. Any complaints? "I feel fine," she said, "like always. Just this lump I noticed last week." She pointed to her right breast.

"How long have you been smoking?"

"I started when I was about twenty. Forty years I guess."

"How much? Would you say a pack a day?"

"Yes, no more than that. But it never caused me any problems."

As she undressed for the exam I could see she was limited and less agile than other middle-aged woman with normal lungs. Her pattern of speech, an occasional pause to catch her breath, confirmed my visual assessment. She would look quite healthy in a family snapshot but not on videotape.

Her emphysema had developed insidiously. Shortness of breath on exertion and a chronic morning cough became such a routine experience for Mrs. Bowman that she considered the symptoms almost normal. "I thought they just happen when you get older," she explained.