Post #3 - A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall
All of the waiting and anticipation was hard. Waiting in-between appointments, results, news….I thought I was losing my mind.
My covid test was negative, and so my IR biopsy was moving ahead. The entire staff was AMAZING to me. The entirety of my day was explained to me and I felt in such capable hands. The procedure went as smoothly as possible (not that I remember a thing - I was fast asleep!) and they got 9 pieces of my grapefruit to examine and help determine exactly what it was. More waiting. The doctors had all told me the results were going to take about a week.
The following Thursday (August 27th) I received a call from Dr. S with my results. Time stopped. I put him on speaker and Rich came running over to sit by my side. He started by saying that my grapefruit was a solitary fibrous tumor. The tumor had not grown much, but it was definitely a “grower and a pusher” and it would have to come out. He also said that it was not the easiest procedure as the tumor had started to push against my bladder and colon. The tumor was being fed blood through the sigmoid artery which is in the colon. Dr. S stated that I had no options and that it would only get worse. My mouth immediately went dry and my vision was that of a tunnel. I then asked, “So, is it cancer?” And, as long as I live, and have my memory, I will remember these words: “Ummm, yes. It’s cancer.” The hot tears rolled down my face slowly. He said his scheduling nurse would be calling me and my surgery would be upon his return from a week away. I thanked him and said I would see him soon for a consult where he would answer my questions. I knew what I had to do next. I had to call my mom.
I have never been so sad to make a call to my mom. We are best friends and kindred souls. I never wanted to have to tell her this news, as I didn’t want to bring this much sadness to her life. I used FaceTime and tried to stay calm. I will never forget the look on my mother’s face as I shook my head up-and-down to affirm that it was, in fact, cancer. I could barely get the words out. I immediately saw the pain and fear on her face. I had no prognosis and would not have one until after the tumor was out. She said she and my dad would be here the days around my surgery and that was that.
Waiting for the surgery was hard. Not just on me, but for everyone. Rich and I tried to keep busy and I scrubbed our place knowing my mom and dad would be here when I got home. We would go for walks and hikes; we would cook together; we would watch TV and movies; but, the thoughts were always with us. They were hard to pivot from. It’s at this point where my life didn’t feel like mine anymore. I’m not the lady with cancer. I’m not a “sickly” person. I’m not the person who ever wants someone to look at them with pity. This wasn’t my life anymore. Not the one I knew and loved.
My surgery was on September 17th. I had to be there at 7:20am. Once again, the drive was a blur. I know traffic was bad, and I was stressed about it, but the other details are hazy. Once we got to the hospital in the city, I was taken back to change into a gown and robe. I was asked a million different questions and I had 2 IV’s started - one in each hand. I had to sign forms giving my mother and Rich the ability to make life decisions for me if I could not. I had to decide what kind of pain management I wanted - IV or epidural. I kept getting up to go to the bathroom, as my nerves were on high alert. Rich had to step away as they put my epidural in and I knew my time had almost come. To say I was scared is such an understatement. I was petrified. Knowing that Rich could not be there when I woke up made me so sad. They said we would FaceTime him from recovery, but because of covid, he couldn’t be there. I kissed him and watched him walk away. I knew it was breaking his heart, too.
Trying to make it ok for him was an undertaking, emotionally, that I was not ready for - I’m not sure anyone would be prepared for that. My doctors had told me I would be staying in the hospital 6-8 days as they were removing 12” - 18” of my colon. Thinking of Rich being home alone (and feeding himself!) broke my heart. I knew he didn’t like the idea, but he stayed strong for me.
I’ve been told the operation was just over 3 hours and went smoothly. I barely remember the FaceTime with Rich - it all seems like a dream that first night. I know my beloved Cleveland Browns were playing Thursday night football, and I remember putting it on, and watching them win! I know I called my parents and spoke with them, but again, it’s all a bit fuzzy. I also remember the nurses showing me how to use the pain button and when the light went to green, I could push the button for more meds. I did use the button that first night.
My healing started that evening, but I didn’t know how far I’d have to go.