I can't help smiling when I remember that night in the recovery room when I thought that Cancer had been awfully easy to lick. I half-expected them to pat me on the head and send me back to work. No such luck.
Just because the surgeons removed all that they could see doesn't mean that they got it all. There were cells outside of the main tumor, and it had reached the lymph nodes in my neck. I was going to need both radiation and chemotherapy to clean up what they might have missed.
The meeting with the radiotherapy oncologist was pretty jarring. She described the procedure to me, and told me about the side effects I should expect. Loss of taste. Sunburn like burns on my neck. Hair loss. Sores in my throat and mouth. Nausea. Lots of pain. For at least six to eight weeks. We scheduled my first appointment with the medical oncologist (the chemo doctor) and left the clinic on shaky knees.
The morning I was to meet the chemo doc for the first time, I got an urgent call from the Cancer center. Blue Cross had determined that my Cancer was a "pre-existing condition." My insurance would not be paying for any radiation or chemo. The lady at Lexington Clinic was very kind and assured me that they would find alternatives for me. Mrs P was working, but Mum was there in the room when I hung up the phone. She wept for my suffering. I wept for my humiliation. After a lifetime of hard work and playing "by the rules" I was being pawned off as a charity case. I blamed the insurance company. I blamed the man who fired me two years ago, costing me my life's savings and my comprehensive medical coverage. I blamed myself for trying to make a career in the arts where poverty was practically guaranteed. And I blamed God in whose image I had been made, reputedly.
Late that afternoon, the Clinic called to let me know that the University of Kentucky's Markey Cancer Center would accept me as a patient. They would be able to help me with the financial aid I needed. Actually, what she said was that they were big enough to absorb the loss of treating me. They had made an appointment for me. My treatment would be set back a week.
At the Markey Center I met Dr. K. He and his team examined me much more thoroughly than they had at the Clinic. They discovered a loose tooth. We would need to see a dentist about that. He also explained to me that because of the damage the therapy would do to my throat, there was a good chance I wouldn't be able to swallow for most of the time I was getting radiation. If that happened, I would need a feeding tube. Rather than interrupt my therapy to put one in, Dr. K recommended that we install the tube before my first treatment. Now I had a dentist appointment and an outpatient surgery to complete before radiation could begin. I still hadn't met a chemo doc.
As we looked at the x-rays together, the dentist was very kind and to the point. I had advanced periodontal disease, a chronic infection of the tissue connecting my teeth to my head. Radiation would destroy my saliva glands and compromise my immune system. The infection in my gums would spread to my teeth, even my bones. I could wind up losing my lower jaw. All of which would interrupt my therapy and give the Cancer a chance to gain a new foothold.
My teeth were shot. They all had to come out. The next day, if possible.
Another office. Another kind administrator explaining that payment would be expected at the time of treatment. Yes she understood that I would die without the procedure. Yes, she was very sorry. If we could pay half up-front, they would bill us for the rest. Mrs P scrambled to find friends and relatives who would lend us the money for the down payment. The next day, all my teeth were gone. And my treatment had been delayed another two weeks while my mouth healed.
I finally got to meet Dr. Arnold, the medical oncologist. She asked why I had waited so long after my surgery to start chemo. I tried to tell her the story without cursing. She and her team examined me. I had developed "Thrush," a fungal infection on my tongue. Mrs P said it was from all the antibiotics I had been taking. They would need to get that under control before starting chemo. We also needed to schedule a morning to have my feeding tube put in. I expected this to take about five hours. I'm not sure why.
Two mornings ago, I reported to the hospital. They sedated me before I knew what was happening. I woke up feeling as if I had been shot in the belly. In theory, the idea of installing a hose through your skin and directly into your stomach is incredibly cool. I even found videos of the procedure on YouTube. In practice, having someone poke a hole through the muscles of your abdomen really, really hurts. You know all those exercises in the gym that are designed to develop your core? They're there because you use the muscles around your middle for almost everything you do from getting out of a chair, to drawing a breath, to using the bathroom. The surgeon poked a hole in my core, and left about 14 inches of rubber hose hanging out of it. Ouch. I spent the night in the hospital, eating Percocets like M&M's.
Today, I got the call from my medical oncologist, Dr Arnold. We're going to have to delay my treatment while I recover from this "minor" procedure. Chemo and radiation were scheduled to start tomorrow, now they will not begin until June 7. Ideally, radiation should start within four weeks of surgery. My operation was six weeks ago.
I'm really scared tonight. I'm afraid of what is happening inside my throat while we figure out which specialist gets the next crack at me, and who's going to pay for it. I'm afraid that the pain I'm feeling now is nothing compared to what I'll be feeling once therapy starts going full bore. I'm afraid that the steady hold I have kept on my emotional health so far could slip at any time turning me into an angry SOB lashing out at the people who love me so much. I'm afraid God has forgotten me and my family. I'm afraid that, as bad as it's been, we "ain't seen nothing yet."
I wish I had a glib little spiritual bonbon to throw in here. Some soothing bumper-sticker theological insight that would make us all feel better. But the truth is, I haven't got a thing. Tonight, I'm just scared. And that's going to have to be enough for me. There aren't any easy answers to be found. So I'll just have to sleep on the hard questions for a little while longer.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Label Cloud
mrs p
Cancer
running
lifting weights
LIVESTRONG at the YMCA
treadmill
weight
nutrition
depression
God
Living Strong at the Y
injury
YMCA
dogs
mom
walking
radiation
Weight Lifting
cardio
friends
program
theatre
body fat
long slow run
love
One for the Five
aches
elliptical
race
resistance bands
stretching
5K
Acting
Jeff Galloway
chemo
doctor
family
mental health
Church
Pittsburgh Marathon
bluegrass
fundraising
inspiration
patience
personal trainer
recovery
Flying Pig Marathon
Jesus
Johns Striders
Race Report
Run the Bluegrass Half Marathon
bipolar
frustration
kentucky
knees
measurements
morning
promatx
yoga
Christmas
Marathon
Pennsy's Greatest Hits
cats
clothes
heart rate
hope
lance armstrong
life
molly
poetry
rest
side effects
steelers
swimming
10K
Actors' Guild of Lexington
Blog
CT Scan
Coach Carrie
PET Scan
cross training
exercise
fear
feeling good
groin
healing
ice cream
livestrong
nausea
powerlifting
run/walk/run
stair climber
surgery
Cancer Fighter
Cold
Gear
Hills
Iron Horse Half-marathon
Job
LSR
Mum
Nike+
Shamrock Shuffle 3K
achilles
advent
arboretum
bmi
bodyweight exercises
changes
charity
circuit training
cycling
dad
deadlift
diabetes
encouragement
experts
give up
goals
horses
interval training
jake
kettlebells
lean body mass
new rules of lifting
pacing
personal best
plateau
prayer
recumbent bike
research
shoes
sleep
strength
teeth
therapist
toe
video
Blood
Easter
Endurance
Funeral
Garmin 405
Homecoming
House
Insurance
Juicing
Keeneland
Legacy
Night
PR
Pennsyltucky
Pittsburgh
Relapse
Run This Town
TRX
Training
Values
aflac
arnold
ben-gay
bench press
chafing
christian
compression shorts
dentist
dreams
faith
fat
fatigue
foreclosure
good day
half marathon
hospitality
javarunner
john's run/walk shop
lou schuler
new year
nurse
pains
peg tube
powercage
progressive resistance.
racing
rain
rapture
reboot
runners world
squat
sun block
supplements
team pennsy
tired
weather
will rogers
work
#3rightThings
9-11
ACSM
AIDS
Aquaphor
Blessings
Bluegrass 10K
CSN
Cancer Boy
Cedar Hill
Charles Dickens
Class of 82
Classes
Colby Road
College
Compassion
Courage
Crowdrise
Cystoscopy
Dee
Diet
EFM
Epiphany
Fall
Fartlek
Fat Man
Fat Sick and Nearly Dead
Frankfort
Gadgets
Gramma
Grampa
Gratitude
Grete Waitz
Guest
HITT
HIV
Hell
Holding Hands
Holy Saturday
Homer
Horse Capital Marathon
IVP
Ice bath
Jacuzzi
James Taylor
Jesus wept
Joe Cross
John Izzo
Joy
KY
LaDonna
Leg Day
Lent
Lessons
Lexington
Little Pennsy
Mental hospital
Midsummer Night's Run
Mindfulness
MobileFit
Negative Splits
Old Frankfort Pike
Pilates
Podrunner
Pre-race
Priorities
RICE
Railrunner 10 Miler
Random thoughts
Resurrection
Reunion
Run Bob Run
Run Report
Run Review
Run for the Gold 3K
Running Form
Running for Sabrina
STUPID
Shakespeare
Skip Brown
Speed
Spinning
Summer Of Speed
Sunrise
Supersets
Tao Te Ching
Thank You
The Wall
Three Right Things
Toxic Passenger
UK
UK basketball
Urine
Urologist
Victory
Walk of Shame
Warrior
Westminster
Whole Foods
Wind
Words
Zumba
ace bandages
addicted
agony
alwyn cosgrove
america
anger
antibiotic
anxiety
awake
back
baseball
blood clots
blood pressure
body glide
bonhoeffer
books
brad
calories
chinup
colonoscopy
consistency
crazy
cycles
dentures
dip
dr. google
dumbbells
elevation
facebook
failure
farts
feet
fight for life
fitness
forgiveness
frankenpennsy
fun
getting started
glucosamine
glutes
goal
gremlin
grenz
grumpy
hair
hamstrings
hiccups
high school
hot
ice
incarnation
indian food
jogging
john lennon
joint
legacy trail
liniment
lunges
machines
maker's mark
mapmyrun.com
medicine ball
meds
mercy
motivation
motley fool
music
nature
neighborhood
new balance
nike
noah
numbers
pennsyltuckian
periodization
persistence
phlebitis
postmodern
prison
professional boundaries
progress
psychiatrist
pullups
pushups
quads
ramble
rememberance
renewal
road running
ronnie coleman
rowing
safety
sauna
scan-ziety
sexy
shopping
shorts
shower
sick
sleepless
snow
socks
spandex
star trek
statistics
steam room
steroids
stiff
strained muscle
strap
strength training
supination
support
surgeon
survive
swackett
swiss balls
table
technology
tempo
terry bradshaw
testicular torsion
text
thai food
that's fit
the five
thighs
walk breaks
warm up
water fitness
water jogging
weak
wedding ring
wellness
wife
winter
workout
writing
yardwork
My friend, I can not begin to imagine what you are going through. I can tell you though that there is a lot of love coming your way. Your family and friends are sending so much love to you. I hope that gives you some comfort during this difficult time.
ReplyDeleteI have read all of the posts from the May entries. This one and the previous one have me bawling like a baby.
ReplyDeleteI'm afraid God has forgotten me and my family. I'm afraid that, as bad as it's been, we "ain't seen nothing yet."
With what my husband and son are going through I do understand. I do understand ......
I haven't read on but I sure know what the feeling is when you wonder why God thinks we are strong enough to handle the situations. We may never understand and as upset as I can get over what you, John and Paul are going through my strength comes from Him.
God bless you and please accept my hug as it comes through cyberspace.
Robyn
I am speechless. Your honesty is piercing.
ReplyDelete