I would have given anything for that to be Saturday's news, rather than the death-sentence diagnosis of the doctor who saw her THAT day.
Saturday's diagnosis was so unexpected that my B-I-L thought he must have misheard the original doctor and filtered everything through wishful thinking. The original doctor was the head of cardiology. The Saturday doctor has only been practicing for a year. When the head cardiologist reviewed the new echocardiogram, it showed that one of the ventricles (the one less affected) was repairing itself, and the damage to the other was survivable.
I think my BIL really, really needs to write a nasty letter and request that the horrible misdiagnosis goes into that younger doctor's file. Wrongly telling a patient and her family that she's going to die... God, the trauma that caused, most of all to my sister and her husband. Worse yet, putting her into hospice (where they don't force fluids or nutrition) would actually have killed her had the other doctor not ordered another test.
I'm glad she'll get a chance to have a few more years, as she really was not ready to die. I just hope she's able to be spared greatly outliving the final decline that her Huntington's will bring. As long as she's able to move around on her own (via walker or eventually wheelchair) and to enjoy life, it's all good. But I don't want her to be trapped in an inescapable prison of misery created by her own body. Please, let the timing of this one thing be kind to her, when nothing else has been.
Thanks, all of you, for your love and support. I know it's there, even when I turn comments off (because I can't deal with much communication when things are so very, very bad). Hugs to one and all. ♥