Fall asleep counting my blessings
This is the second part of what happened in 2012 when I was first diagnosed.
November 3, as I mentioned, was the meeting with the surgeon and then the anniversary lunch for the parents. The day is still surreal, as I got there determined to celebrate, but mentally stuck on “I need surgery. I may have cancer,”
With the family, their instant response was to support. To divide tasks to make it easier for everyone. Sunday, there was nothing to do but wait for the world to restart, and therefore I had some limited time to think. I used it to plan what needed to be done and to reach out to friends.
The early part of the week was spent in doing tests, arranging for blood donors, talking to the office and the insurance company. As the 9th approached, there were tests to be done, scans to arrange, leave to be entered. I’m eternally grateful for my friends at the office, especially Sylvie, who made sure that I was looked after and that I just had to sign documents. They took care of the paperwork for me, and to Nancy, who made sure to send me cards and happy thoughts.
As I sent messages to my friends to explain that I would be staying longer than planned, the responses varied. Some called to tell me funny things and to tell me that they would find stuff to cheer me up. Some called in tears, saying how difficult it was for them. Some were angry, and couldn’t control it. Some thought that I should know the rumours about my surgeon and his wife... there came a point where I said that I only wanted the good news stories. That all the others were doing more harm than good.
My parents, siblings and Don were a constant source of strength. They never let me see how much they worried, they found ways to make things easier. So on the 9th, I was at the hospital for 6am, accompanied by my parents and my sister. My operation was scheduled for 8am, and planned for 3hours. I asked the surgeon if my kidney could be saved, and he looked sadly at me to reply that my kidney was gone. It started a bit late, and I learned later that it was over 6 hours long. I woke up in pain, and for the next 10 days I was in the hospital.
I remember that the intern brought the cooler containing the tumour and my kidney. I’ve seen smaller turkeys in the grocery in the 20lbs and up cooler. My tumour was almost 30lbs, and was large. A few days later, my father came to visit and said that he was now comfortable that I would recover. That was the first time I realized that I could have died, and that it was a real risk.
I got to go home 2 weeks after the operation. I developed a slight infection and a blood clot that wouldn’t resolve, so I had a second surgery 4 weeks later - in fact, a few days before Christmas. I received the type of cancer information, and was cleared to return to Canada in January 2013.
During this experience, my biggest challenge was the private insurance company, which tried to have me travel before I could sit up, and while my doctor was treating the clot. Then they cut off my coverage to force me to leave, “lost” documents, requested that I submit materials that I had already provided, and at the end took 7+ months to pay.
Back in Canada, my GP referred me to the Ottawa Cancer Cente, where I’ve been going since February 2013. At my first meeting with my oncologist, he explained treatment options and said that I would be considered cured after 5 years. It hasn’t worked that way, as I’ve had 2 recurrences and the cancer has metastasized (distant spread). I’ve also never got off the “scan every 3 months” schedule... I had looked forward to getting to the annual scan!
I confess that I’m often tempted to search things like the prognosis for multiple recurrences, but the information I find is discouraging. I’m afraid to probe too hard, as my carefully constructed bubble will pop, and my sense of humour will fail.
So, 5 years ago, I intended to have an “I’m cured from cancer” party. With my latest diagnosis, it’s an “I survived 5 years” event, and if God wills, there will be other events, trips and activities to celebrate in the years ahead. It’s true, though, that this diagnosis refocuses life, and changes priorities faster than anything else. I’ve got more regrets than I used to, but I’m working on keeping them to a minimum. I’ve got more fears than I did, but again, I’m focusing on what I have, why I’m grateful and what I can do.
Each day I give thanks for the day, and for the people who shared it with me. Don is, of course, at the top of that list! Paul, Jovanka, Alla, Sylvie, Helga, Lori, Debbie, Heidi, Hans, Kristin, Sofiah, Joanne, Therese, Andre... the list is magnificent. And these people, and more, keep me from despair. I’m so truly blessed for the love that I have received and for all the support.
So even though this is a difficult few weeks for me, I will accept it and count my blessings.
November 3, as I mentioned, was the meeting with the surgeon and then the anniversary lunch for the parents. The day is still surreal, as I got there determined to celebrate, but mentally stuck on “I need surgery. I may have cancer,”
With the family, their instant response was to support. To divide tasks to make it easier for everyone. Sunday, there was nothing to do but wait for the world to restart, and therefore I had some limited time to think. I used it to plan what needed to be done and to reach out to friends.
The early part of the week was spent in doing tests, arranging for blood donors, talking to the office and the insurance company. As the 9th approached, there were tests to be done, scans to arrange, leave to be entered. I’m eternally grateful for my friends at the office, especially Sylvie, who made sure that I was looked after and that I just had to sign documents. They took care of the paperwork for me, and to Nancy, who made sure to send me cards and happy thoughts.
As I sent messages to my friends to explain that I would be staying longer than planned, the responses varied. Some called to tell me funny things and to tell me that they would find stuff to cheer me up. Some called in tears, saying how difficult it was for them. Some were angry, and couldn’t control it. Some thought that I should know the rumours about my surgeon and his wife... there came a point where I said that I only wanted the good news stories. That all the others were doing more harm than good.
My parents, siblings and Don were a constant source of strength. They never let me see how much they worried, they found ways to make things easier. So on the 9th, I was at the hospital for 6am, accompanied by my parents and my sister. My operation was scheduled for 8am, and planned for 3hours. I asked the surgeon if my kidney could be saved, and he looked sadly at me to reply that my kidney was gone. It started a bit late, and I learned later that it was over 6 hours long. I woke up in pain, and for the next 10 days I was in the hospital.
I remember that the intern brought the cooler containing the tumour and my kidney. I’ve seen smaller turkeys in the grocery in the 20lbs and up cooler. My tumour was almost 30lbs, and was large. A few days later, my father came to visit and said that he was now comfortable that I would recover. That was the first time I realized that I could have died, and that it was a real risk.
I got to go home 2 weeks after the operation. I developed a slight infection and a blood clot that wouldn’t resolve, so I had a second surgery 4 weeks later - in fact, a few days before Christmas. I received the type of cancer information, and was cleared to return to Canada in January 2013.
During this experience, my biggest challenge was the private insurance company, which tried to have me travel before I could sit up, and while my doctor was treating the clot. Then they cut off my coverage to force me to leave, “lost” documents, requested that I submit materials that I had already provided, and at the end took 7+ months to pay.
Back in Canada, my GP referred me to the Ottawa Cancer Cente, where I’ve been going since February 2013. At my first meeting with my oncologist, he explained treatment options and said that I would be considered cured after 5 years. It hasn’t worked that way, as I’ve had 2 recurrences and the cancer has metastasized (distant spread). I’ve also never got off the “scan every 3 months” schedule... I had looked forward to getting to the annual scan!
I confess that I’m often tempted to search things like the prognosis for multiple recurrences, but the information I find is discouraging. I’m afraid to probe too hard, as my carefully constructed bubble will pop, and my sense of humour will fail.
So, 5 years ago, I intended to have an “I’m cured from cancer” party. With my latest diagnosis, it’s an “I survived 5 years” event, and if God wills, there will be other events, trips and activities to celebrate in the years ahead. It’s true, though, that this diagnosis refocuses life, and changes priorities faster than anything else. I’ve got more regrets than I used to, but I’m working on keeping them to a minimum. I’ve got more fears than I did, but again, I’m focusing on what I have, why I’m grateful and what I can do.
Each day I give thanks for the day, and for the people who shared it with me. Don is, of course, at the top of that list! Paul, Jovanka, Alla, Sylvie, Helga, Lori, Debbie, Heidi, Hans, Kristin, Sofiah, Joanne, Therese, Andre... the list is magnificent. And these people, and more, keep me from despair. I’m so truly blessed for the love that I have received and for all the support.
So even though this is a difficult few weeks for me, I will accept it and count my blessings.
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