Dear Mom - Letters to Heaven

Friday, April 18, 2014

Sarcoma Treatment Journal Entry Four

Well the trip down to Duke was eventful. First off the place looked like the mall on Black Friday. The parking attendant warned us that the lot was full and we would never find a space. I found one right away. It was for valet parking only. Hey I know these guys a couple dollars here are my keys and I’m on my way. Nothing doing the moron’s handling the valet parking in the garage must have been on their cigarette break. So right off the bat I told them they were a bunch of hicks for not working with me and reversed up through a one way alley. Here’s a little Philly for ya fellahs. I found another spot immediately. Kris used to get upset with me now she tells me to go faster and run the barricades

Imagine a crowded airport terminal with a multitude of cancelled flights and that’s what this scene looked like in the parking garage and the medical center. And let me tell you Duke Medical is as big as an airport and that’s what it looked like. Kris heard one woman say they had been waiting four (4) hours. These are cancer patients being herded like cattle. Fortunately Kris and I got there early and were called for our appointment right on time. We did a bit of sitting around. But what I told Kris and firmly believe is that the Doctors should not rush with any patient under any circumstance so we did not get impatient. These other people are sick as well and some horribly so. It was a sad wild scene.

We finally got home around 8pm. We stopped at Bull City Burger and Brewery http://bullcityburgerandbrewery.com/Bull_City_Burger_and_Brewery/Home.html for a late lunch and headed out of town by 4:30pm.

It was a long long day and Kris picked up the driving duties once we got into Virginia. I was determined to leave North Carolina on my own terms! But I did suffer and threw myself into the tub (my new best friend) as soon as we got home.

You’re never in a good mood when you are walking like Walter Brennan, the doctor tells you how long the incision will be, your backside is on fire and you have to use the rest stops.

But right now I have six weeks to decompress and process the next procedure. I go in for a pre-op on March 19th and surgery March 28th. I’ll be in the hospital for at least two nights possibly three. They reserved a private room for me for five nights. They reassured me that five nights was just precautionary. They didn’t want to have to scramble to find a room if I had to stay longer. The recovery at home could be up to six weeks but that’s worst case scenario and the Duke surgeon stopped referring to the unknown image on the MRI as a tumor and referred to it as scar tissue or a hematoma (fancy name for a bruise) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hematoma.

Four words you never want to hear your physician say, “Your scrotum is pealing”.

But I feel great and my humor is intact. Once you accept this is going to happen and that there is no exit door or escape hatch (I keep looking for one while soaking in the tub) and start adding up all the positives it becomes easier to deal with. Although I have been thinking about blowing it all off, cashing out, selling the house, and going on a twenty year binge around the world. I’m afraid to mention it to Kris because she might say yes!

Here’s what I’m really talking about: We purposely opened back up the door to our doctor’s office you know how they close it after the nurse leaves and you wait seconds going by like minutes in an empty room well I pulled the door back open for two reasons. One so we wouldn’t be forgotten in all the mayhem and two to learn by watching and listening. So what was the big reveal? When you are so caught up in what’s happening in the moment you loose perspective. I gained some back when we witnessed a doctor in the hall run up to several nurses telling them “yes we admitted her right away.”

You follow?

One patient they saw that day was so lousy with cancer that they hustled her into the hospital right then and there. Imagine going in for a consult being told you have cancer and by the way we are rushing you into the hospital. So think if yours truly was so bad I wouldn’t be typing this email been allowed to leave let alone have another six weeks to heal (party).

There have been a lot of positives with this journey momentary incidents that run across the board from inspirational to desperate. And one that has occurred to me but not emphasized by anyone is that in another six weeks this remaining hematoma/scar tissue may shrink even farther and perhaps even disappear. That would mean the surgery will be less invasive than advertised by the worst case scenario. Physicians have to plan for the worst case and spend a lot of time talking and focusing on that so they and you are not surprised. But as an individual you have to be fortified not to be drawn into obsessing about the worst case scenario. You have to drill down and find out about it so as to be aware but realize its only one possibility in a range of possibilities that also include the best probable outcome as well – otherwise that escape hatch your looking for in the tub is down the drain.

Paul

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