Waiting Again

This was to be the day of my surgery;  however,  infection caused it to be postponed.  I can’t say that the change was a huge let down, but I will say that it can cause some real challenges in dealing with reality.  I can push this cancer and the surgery to the back of my mind and think it all a dream, only to remind myself that it is not a dream.  This is real.  To think it will all just go away is ridiculous.  To ignore it would probably mean a painful, early death – what my father seems to think I am already doomed to have.

I am not sure just how many people in the town and school know about my situation; but I find out every day that there are more and more.  Yesterday was one of those days, because it would have been my last day at school for awhile.  I had quite a few colleagues pop by to chat with me and others pull me aside.  I have never dealt with a personal crisis outside a church/Christian school setting; and for me to see unsaved people showing love and care towards me shows me that when things seem to be taking a difficult turn, people do care – Christian or not.  The difference now is that my coping with this disease gives me openings to share that my trust is in God.   These people are more willing to hear me talk about the things of the Lord.  I also am finding that there are other Christians at school than I first realized.  They may not be the same denomination as I, but I have heard them speak of their salvation experience and know that they truly are believers.  Cool!

To hear the details of my surgery makes it a bit scary.  Four to five hours of surgery seems like such a long time.  An incision from arm pit to arm pit seems so long.  Then there are the thoughts about what comes next . . . what type of treatment?  Will I lose my hair?  Will I choose to go bald or wear a wig or wear a hat?  Maybe I won’t have any of that.  I decided that I just need to focus on one thing at a time, which for now is surgery.

I did stop by to talk with my pastor today.  This would be visit #3, I think:

1.  December 23 -- To tell him what was going on, although his wife had known  (and passed on information); I thought the time was right for me to talk to him directly.

2.  January 7 – To tell him the results, which I had heard that Thursday, as I believed that now was the time for the church, as a whole, to know.  We went over what he would share with the congregation the following morning.

He has gotten used to my approach – I keep his wife informed along the way; she passes things on to him; and he knows that I will come by for a chat at certain points along the way.  Today it was to talk about what had transpired this week.  Things I have been dealing with (i.e. my parents, reactions at school, rescheduling of surgery).  I want him to see my face and listen to my voice because I think it gives him an even better idea of how I am doing overall.

I shared with him what I had said to my father the other night, as we siblings are just running out of ideas.  I had told my father to think about what he, a minister, would say to a family in a situation like this.  I wasn’t expecting him to answer; I just wanted to re-direct his thinking.  He asked me if I was thinking he needed to practice what he preaches.  I said NO; he just needs to listen.

I told him how my father’s thinking is so out of line with what he knows.  He was saying to one of my siblings that he couldn’t understand why bad things are happening to his good children, as if we are exempt from "bad" things.  I said to my pastor that I need to remind my father that this is a test of our character.  How well did we learn at home? At church?  At the Christian school?   That is perhaps why – it is a test.

So, Pastor and I had a good sharing time.  As always, the time ended in prayer.  I am not one to take advantage of my pastor and his time. But, I do think it is important, at times, to share things with him, as that is part of what his ministry is.  I need to be willing to go to him, too.

A Dose of Reality

Yesterday was a day that could be summed up like this:

1)      A dose of reality

2)      A complication

Reality was going to the hospital for pre-op testing:  urine, blood, EKG, x-rays, meeting with a nurse, meeting with a “Cancer Navigator,” meeting with the anesthesiologist.  Reality was getting more pamphlets and brochures on the subject of cancer/breast cancer.  Reality was meeting in the afternoon with the surgeon and hearing the surgery itself would last 4-5 hours . . . that the incision would go from arm pit to arm pit . . . that lymph nodes would be taken from the left side . . . that I could have to deal with swelling in my left arm long after the surgery because of that . . . I would be wrapped tightly in ace bandages . . . I was reminded in my own heart and mind that this is indeed a big deal.  I was glad Dennis was with me for the meeting with the surgeon.

Complication was finding out that the cyst on my back, which has been there for years, was not just irritated but also a bit infected.  This meant that surgery would wait.  This meant that right there, Dr. Bang would lance the cyst and work at cleaning out the mess in that cyst.  This cyst is on a TO DO list for later, as it needs to be excised; but it got bumped out of immediate contention because of more pressing health issues.   The current “fix” is just a temporary one.  The shots did not deaden all of the pain and discomfort I felt as the DR pressed and pushed out the stuff in that cyst.  I could not sense much, as I was under cloths that the DR put over my head and lower back; but Dennis said the smell of the stuff was putrid, getting to the DR a few times.  Dennis was fascinated with what he saw coming out of that small incision on my back.  The cyst runs deep.  I was sent home with gauze IN the incision plus gauze and tape covering the incision area.  I was given a prescription for an antibiotic.  I was hurting, and so I walked very slowly out of that office with an appointment to return Thursday to see how things are progressing so that we can set a new date for the surgery.  Dr. Bang wants the infection gone, even if the incision is not yet healed, before we do the other surgery.

I have gotten used to having to wait so many times through this journey that I guess I wasn’t all that let down with what happened today.  I think, though, that what lies most on my mind is the surgery itself and what it will mean for me.  I am a little afraid of it all, although I know that God will enable me to rest in Him.

This morning the teacher I work with, a good friend of mine, took the time to pray for me.  I was at school, but I was physically hurting somewhat all day.  I knew I belonged at school, but I also knew I was going to be somewhat slower than usual and a bit stiffer than usual.  I needed the diversion.  I am thankful for working with Lori, my friend, my colleague, my sister in the Lord.  She is a ready ear for me when I am struggling through these uncharted waters.

Closing In on Surgery Day

I think that I am starting to get an idea of what lies ahead for me, once I am out of surgery.  The thought of my upper body draining out fluid for days or more afterwards seems a bit gross.  Not sure why this happens and why it goes on for so long, but it does.  A fairly new device that the surgeon wants to use is called a surgical compression vest.  This is to help with the draining plus lessen recovery time overall.  It is meant to wrap the entire upper body and hold it firmly in place.  There also will be a time in which I will not be able to shower.  It will be interesting to see how I manage to feel clean, especially with my hair.

My father still is not handling this well.  Regardless of what anyone tells him, he seems to think that I am in pain.  He seems to think it strange that I am working – even up to the day before the surgery.  He seems to have the idea that his family is too good to be plagued with things like Sharon’s MS and my cancer:  we did not do drugs; we were not immoral people; we were good kids.  It seems odd that I am having to try to re-direct the thinking of a minister.  Actually, all of us “kids” are.  Granted, a lot of this is probably due to his age (88).  He just does not process things well anymore.  I  am the one comforting him, not he comforting me.  He calls every day, and he cries.

The cyst on my back decided, after years and years of just being there, to flare up.  It has left me, all week, wondering what to do.  It does not seem infected.  It does not seem to be growing.  It is rather sore, though.  This is the cyst that is on the “To Do List,” and was pushed down the list because of my cancer issues, which surfaced.  The cyst is eventually to be removed.  Now, it presents a dilemma, as my surgeon has been out of town the past two weeks.  I was told that if it really did look like it was infected or had grown to go to the ER at the Cortland hospital.  Explain my situation.  They probably would lance it to get me by until I could see my surgeon.  The records would be there at the hospital for reference, since I am about to be processed for my surgery.  If I can, I will wait until my appointment Monday afternoon with my surgeon.

The other bugaboo is that I seem to be fighting off a cold.  A cold is another thing I do not need at this time.  Dennis went to Cortland this morning to get me some zinc.  That plus Vitamin C I hope will ward off a cold – or have it run a short course, as I am in it on the fringes.

Questions

I find myself asking questions of all kinds, as I contemplate my newly diagnosed disease:

·  Why is a word that is so easy to spell (c-a-n-c-e-r) so difficult to say?

·  Why do we rarely hear the word dreadful used to describe other debilitating diseases, like M.S. or heart disease?

·  Why is it so difficult to share "bad" news with family and friends?

·  Why do people seem to think they are entitled to know things just because they may know you?

·  Why does it seem like some people look at you differently because they know you have cancer?

·  Why is it that when cancer does "go away," it doesn't really ever go away?

·  Why do you feel as if people who know, think you'll certainly die an early death or that you certainly are going to have a rough time?

·  Why does "bad" news seem to spread faster than "good" news?

·  Why are unregenerate people more willing to listen to you talk about God when they know you are dealing with a difficult situation in your life?

In some instances, the questions are rhetorical. In others, there is no real answer. Still, some are worth talking about.  Maybe after this is over I will re-visit some of these questions.

A Good Thing

One thing I hope to see as a result of my journey is women who know being good about regular breast exams in order to have problems discovered early. 

Today I met the first one.  Kim, with whom I have worked for years, was walking back with me from doing bus attendance and told me that because of my situation, she had decided she was due a visit to her doctor and was making an appointment today.  I said to her that was good to hear, as this is one thing I have thought that perhaps my being open about what is going on in my life would prod women to do what they ought to be doing.

Preparations Continue

Called the surgeon’s office today, as the cyst on my back has been bothering me.  I don’t want anything to make us have to postpone things next Friday.  It does not seem infected, but there are parts of it that are somewhat sore.  I have had an infection in the area before and have had to have that lanced; but this does not seem to feel or look as if it is infected.  The call did allay my fears about what to do. 

While on the phone, they had other things for me to know about.  (I had not checked my messages yet because I wanted to call the office before they closed at 4:00.)  One is to add another appointment to my schedule for Monday.  Now I have pre-op testing in the morning and a meeting with the surgeon in the afternoon.   Also, there is now a surgical vest that makes recovery and healing from surgery like mine easier and better.  There are fewer problems that arise.  Dr. Bang wants me to get measured for one.

It’s things like these that are making all of this more and more real to me.  I am beginning to catch a glimpse of what is ahead.

Challenges Continue with My Father

My father is not taking the revelation of my disease well.  I came home today to find five messages left from him, starting at 10:30 this morning.  The last one he told me to be sure I was off the internet at 8:00 because that was when he would try again. 

Every time he calls, he is choked up and emotional.  He seems to think I am in pain.  I am not.   He seems to think it odd that I am at work.  I don’t.  He seems to think that cancer equals early death. It doesn't.

I do not think I can be patient with him if this is what he is going to do every day for the next few weeks.  That’s not a right attitude to have.  I have emailed my siblings to see if they can help with this. 

My dad is rather a forgetful person.  He latches onto one single idea and just won’t let it go, no matter whether it is accurate or not OR gives him a distorted picture.  No matter how often something is explained to him, he just does not get it.

My father thinks he ought to be here with me, not in Ohio.  He forgets that he and my mother are a care to whoever houses them.  He forgets that my house is not handicap accessible. 

Wow!

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These are flowers my father sent me.