On the way home last night, I stopped by my parents house to check in. I am now feeling like I need to go supervise at my mom's appointments. As far as her medical condition, she's doing extremely well!!! She's still tiring very easily but fatigue aside, she's almost back to normal. I tell you, she's made of steel! Except for her ears... I think they're all wax.
As soon as I got off the phone with my dad about my mom's oncology appointment, I blogged about it. I took notes while speaking to him, and blogged away. Last night, I walked in the door to mom saying, "Well, I've decided that I don't want to listen to the doctor's if there's only a 1 in 5 chance". Woah, stop. The doctor's had excitedly given her a 70% chance for the preferred radiation treatment, and a 1 in 5 for the chemo. At first they wouldn't listen; I finally got some logic into their heads. (The simple math alone! How can 1 in 5 equal 70%???) I will stand by any logical decision she chooses to make, as long as it is informed and well-thought out. If it's made because she can't hear or she forgets the options... well, let's just say that doesn't fly with me. I had asked him to record the appointment with his cell phone so he could refer back to it, but he forgot. The worst part is that they weren't very concerned. I had originally anticipated a problem, but I really thought that we were out of the woods. I have decided to take the day of her next oncologist appointment off so that I can go with her. It doesn't matter as much now because she went to her new primary care doctor today, & she doesn't want her to make any decision until she gets the reports back from the oncologist. She wants to sit down with them and explain everything, and make sure they understand. Thank God that my dad has been seeing her for years. She'd be in big trouble without him, I think.
My dad had requested copies of the files from the hospital, so I started looking through the 45 pages. It's amazing how many things they repeat several times. In one place, they make reference to her "absent uterus". Ok, to me that means "not filled" or "empty". Apparently, in the grand logic of my dad it means "missing". Mmmm hmmm. Yeah, missing. I finally had to point out that, since she has no medical history, no surgeries except for a tonsilectomy as a child and eye surgery, wouldn't someone have been a little suspicious if her uterus was missing? Really? I'm pretty sure that would bring up some questions, but he's arguing with me! That's what he does; I cannot possibly be right. Then, he tells me how upset he is reading this because "according to the paperwork, she knew for at least 8 months that there was a problem and she hid it from us!" I laughed at him and pointed out that I told him in March that she had cancer. He says "I forgot you said that." Can you say liar? I pointed out that he argued with me then. He told me that I was "being dramatic, she just needs to eat at Sweet Tomatoes more". Yeah. Let me say that I have enough drama in my life from everyone else. I don't need drama, I don't like drama, and frankly, I don't have time for it. Just the facts, ma'am. However, when I see a problem, I want to jump on it before I run out of time or forget about it. When it comes to medical stuff, I realize that taking care of things before it spirals out of control is a good thing. Grrr!!! They really need to start listening to me. They always said that I can't handle stress, until the past few years. I have triple the stress that they've ever had with all that we're going through in my house. I can handle it better than anyone I know! I explained that I've learned how to have a clinical approach to medical issues. I can handle it way better than my dad can.
Oh, and the tumor? The report shed some light on the size. "CAT scan of the abdomen and pelvis showed a large tumor, 9x8x6- cm obstructing tumor in the distal transverse colon in the left abdomen at the level of the iliac crest, with the right colon measuring 10cm in width". That makes much more sense than 65mm. I'm really starting to believe that I need to babysit them more when it comes to decisions. It really makes me sad.
Showing posts with label colon cancer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label colon cancer. Show all posts
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Fast update on The Mom
I knew that my mom had an appointment today. I didn't realize that they would end up getting the dates switched around, and to their benefit!
My father brought my mom to the surgeon today only to find out that their appointment was for tomorrow. They took her anyway, and my dad came away with some of her records :) I can't wait to look through them. I had asked to see her CT scan, but no one had time to show me in the hospital. According to her records, the tumor was 65mm's. That converts to 2.55905 inches. (My dad told me it was 24". Little different...) The doctor did saw that it was the size of a baseball, and when he had shown me in the hospital he made it look like the size of a potatoe. It is still considered stage 2, which the oncologist told them today. She is scheduled to go in for a PET scan on Sept. 12. After the scan she will go back and they will determine a more definite course of action, but for now it looks like they may only want to do radiation to the abdominal wall. They say that generally chemo isn't successful (or necessary) for her type of cancer, and radiation alone will likely give her a 70% chance of survival for a ten year stretch. Given that she will be 72 in October, I'd say that's pretty darn good. She may be bird thin but my dad is working on getting her well nourished again, and she does seem to be holding up VERY well. Also, the surgeon took her staples out today! She was so excited to be able to sit on the floor again- and be able to get back up! This means no more nightly bandage changes. That alone is a huge relief to them both. And she said that the scar looks great. She sounds so good every night when I talk to her. It's such a change from the woman who didn't place much value to her own life.
I remembered one thing that I forgot to post the other night. She's never been able to sleep well, and she almost never remembers her dreams. She's had two dreams that stick in her head. The first she told me about last week, and I loved it. She said that she was in a store, and someone was pinching her butt. She eventually realized that it was a little boy. She was very annoyed, and she started to yell at him. A priest came out of nowhere and told her that she wasn't being very nice. Her answer? "I was told yesterday that I have cancer, and now everything is different." To me, that was a very emotional, raw moment. Like the confrontation of death while living as told in a dream. To me, it was also a moment for hope and happiness, because I believe that it means that she's ready to fight. Honestly, this is a HUGE relief. I truly thought that we would have to fight her every step of the way to get treatment. I thought that it may be too late by the time she decided she was ready. That's why I was so thrilled that she allowed me to take her to the ER that night. She wasn't gone yet!
If you want to be inspired, if you want to learn how to be a great person, take lessons from the people around you; choose to be in the company of great people. I am blessed enough to have many of those types of people in my life. Between my family, my husband's family, (you know who you are!) some of my coworkers, and my friends, I am very blessed to have great company, and people that inspire me. My mommy is one.
My father brought my mom to the surgeon today only to find out that their appointment was for tomorrow. They took her anyway, and my dad came away with some of her records :) I can't wait to look through them. I had asked to see her CT scan, but no one had time to show me in the hospital. According to her records, the tumor was 65mm's. That converts to 2.55905 inches. (My dad told me it was 24". Little different...) The doctor did saw that it was the size of a baseball, and when he had shown me in the hospital he made it look like the size of a potatoe. It is still considered stage 2, which the oncologist told them today. She is scheduled to go in for a PET scan on Sept. 12. After the scan she will go back and they will determine a more definite course of action, but for now it looks like they may only want to do radiation to the abdominal wall. They say that generally chemo isn't successful (or necessary) for her type of cancer, and radiation alone will likely give her a 70% chance of survival for a ten year stretch. Given that she will be 72 in October, I'd say that's pretty darn good. She may be bird thin but my dad is working on getting her well nourished again, and she does seem to be holding up VERY well. Also, the surgeon took her staples out today! She was so excited to be able to sit on the floor again- and be able to get back up! This means no more nightly bandage changes. That alone is a huge relief to them both. And she said that the scar looks great. She sounds so good every night when I talk to her. It's such a change from the woman who didn't place much value to her own life.
I remembered one thing that I forgot to post the other night. She's never been able to sleep well, and she almost never remembers her dreams. She's had two dreams that stick in her head. The first she told me about last week, and I loved it. She said that she was in a store, and someone was pinching her butt. She eventually realized that it was a little boy. She was very annoyed, and she started to yell at him. A priest came out of nowhere and told her that she wasn't being very nice. Her answer? "I was told yesterday that I have cancer, and now everything is different." To me, that was a very emotional, raw moment. Like the confrontation of death while living as told in a dream. To me, it was also a moment for hope and happiness, because I believe that it means that she's ready to fight. Honestly, this is a HUGE relief. I truly thought that we would have to fight her every step of the way to get treatment. I thought that it may be too late by the time she decided she was ready. That's why I was so thrilled that she allowed me to take her to the ER that night. She wasn't gone yet!
If you want to be inspired, if you want to learn how to be a great person, take lessons from the people around you; choose to be in the company of great people. I am blessed enough to have many of those types of people in my life. Between my family, my husband's family, (you know who you are!) some of my coworkers, and my friends, I am very blessed to have great company, and people that inspire me. My mommy is one.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Hanging in :)
I'm hopeful that I can actually create a coherent entry that isn't missing half of what I wanted to write!!!
I'd like to backtrack a few days to when my mom was still in the hospital. My father was still in Connecticut, and the neighbors expected him to be out of town, and my mom alone. Now, the night that I took her to the E.R., I was focused on getting her there before she could change her mind. I watched her lock her door, but apparently she unlocked it. Speeding ahead a bit, my sister, my older daughter & I went to their house to check up, bring in the mail & find my aunt's phone number. We get in the house and realize there are newspapers on the couch. They are dated from that day!!! I started to worry that someone had broken in. There were weird little things that stood out. My daughter went to go ask the neighbors if they knew anything, but no one was home. I started trying to get a hold of my dad. I must have called his phone 30 times, texted him 3 times, left him two voice mails. No answer, no return call. Finally I called my mom in the hospital to see if she had given her key to a neighbor. I walked outside while talking to mom, and another neighbor comes walking up to me saying, "Your parents scared us to death!" It turns out, since my mom is "like clockwork" and has her flag out and papers in by 7:30 A.M., the neighbors tried the door, found it unlocked, got scared, and called the police. It was the police that brought the papers in. Talk about tension!!!
Mom is doing very well. I think she's kicking herself for not getting this taken care of months ago, but since living in the past isn't very productive, we're trying to help her to move ahead. We've had many blessings come out of this. For one thing, it brought my sister home for a few days around her grueling work schedule. We all love seeing her. My oldest & I cry every time she leaves. We just don't have nearly enough time together anymore. This also brought my mom together with her sister; they often talk on the phone, but never get to actually visit in person. Thanks to my wonderful cousin, we've had a couple of little family reunions, with another couple in the planning stages. I have to say that of all of the relatives on my side of the family, my mom's sister has always been my favorite. I loved her husband, also. I used to spend a lot of time over there, until things got too crazy here to be able to really go visit. And now we at least know that there is, indeed, a problem, but it's being addressed. I knew she was sick; it's very frustrating when you know you're right but no one will believe you. At least in a situation like this. Well, my sister believed me, but it's harder to argue with them being a few states away.
I was told the day before Mom's release that all of the pathology was back. A day or two later they told my sister that it was not. We're still operating on the assumption that it's Stage 2. My cousin has battled stage 2 cancer. I feel as though God put her back in our path to quietly strengthen my mom. My mom is already practically invincible. I cannot even believe how high her pain tolerance is. Mine is high but hers is amazing!!! I'm very proud of how she is handling all of this. As my husband said, she's very stoic. Very well put! She hasn't really acted depressed or sad at all, but given that she's going along now with seeing a PCP, an oncologist & a gastro, I know she's up to fighting. When she pointed out that she should have listened to me before, I explained how I saw things. She was so dehydrated the night that I took her to the ER that she really shouldn't have been still with us. She was shutting down. Her voice was weakening, she doesn't remember 2 days. Her colon should have ruptured already, so they said. And, if living through those 2 situations wasn't enough, she survived the surgery and went from having what they declared a stage 4 cancer to a stage 2. Obviously, she's meant to be here for a reason. My dad is taking wonderful care of her, which honestly surprises me. He's so used to being cared for that we wondered how he would do. Now that he's home he's really doing well. I told him that he had better not lecture her, and he hasn't! I'm so glad. She doesn't need that.
She has her appointments lined up, thanks to my dad. (The great news is that she is willing!!!) Towards the end of the month she has a 3 day period that is all about doctor visits. My dad is shoveling as much food into her as he can. :) She is already starting to look better, less like she's deflating. She had started to get that really sunken look for a while there. We'd like to get her fattened up for chemo.
One thing that I don't understand is why they took her port out? She had one in her neck. Maybe it was just a temporary, but I don't understand why they would do a temp when a port is like a staple for cancer patients? I'm glad she had it; if for no other reason, it helped my daughter to be less fearful of her upcoming port implant. I just thought it was weird. I realize that this is all in God's hands. I keep praying, knowing that I'm not ready to lose my Mommy yet, but also just wanting what is best for her. Right now, I'm hopeful that she can beat this. Her attitude is great, she's already getting out of the house to go to her restaurants and shopping. But I know how hard chemo can be. I don't want her to suffer, but I'm hoping that she'll have the will to keep fighting. If you asked me 3 weeks ago if she would, I'd have said no. Right now, I believe she will beat this.
I'd like to backtrack a few days to when my mom was still in the hospital. My father was still in Connecticut, and the neighbors expected him to be out of town, and my mom alone. Now, the night that I took her to the E.R., I was focused on getting her there before she could change her mind. I watched her lock her door, but apparently she unlocked it. Speeding ahead a bit, my sister, my older daughter & I went to their house to check up, bring in the mail & find my aunt's phone number. We get in the house and realize there are newspapers on the couch. They are dated from that day!!! I started to worry that someone had broken in. There were weird little things that stood out. My daughter went to go ask the neighbors if they knew anything, but no one was home. I started trying to get a hold of my dad. I must have called his phone 30 times, texted him 3 times, left him two voice mails. No answer, no return call. Finally I called my mom in the hospital to see if she had given her key to a neighbor. I walked outside while talking to mom, and another neighbor comes walking up to me saying, "Your parents scared us to death!" It turns out, since my mom is "like clockwork" and has her flag out and papers in by 7:30 A.M., the neighbors tried the door, found it unlocked, got scared, and called the police. It was the police that brought the papers in. Talk about tension!!!
Mom is doing very well. I think she's kicking herself for not getting this taken care of months ago, but since living in the past isn't very productive, we're trying to help her to move ahead. We've had many blessings come out of this. For one thing, it brought my sister home for a few days around her grueling work schedule. We all love seeing her. My oldest & I cry every time she leaves. We just don't have nearly enough time together anymore. This also brought my mom together with her sister; they often talk on the phone, but never get to actually visit in person. Thanks to my wonderful cousin, we've had a couple of little family reunions, with another couple in the planning stages. I have to say that of all of the relatives on my side of the family, my mom's sister has always been my favorite. I loved her husband, also. I used to spend a lot of time over there, until things got too crazy here to be able to really go visit. And now we at least know that there is, indeed, a problem, but it's being addressed. I knew she was sick; it's very frustrating when you know you're right but no one will believe you. At least in a situation like this. Well, my sister believed me, but it's harder to argue with them being a few states away.
I was told the day before Mom's release that all of the pathology was back. A day or two later they told my sister that it was not. We're still operating on the assumption that it's Stage 2. My cousin has battled stage 2 cancer. I feel as though God put her back in our path to quietly strengthen my mom. My mom is already practically invincible. I cannot even believe how high her pain tolerance is. Mine is high but hers is amazing!!! I'm very proud of how she is handling all of this. As my husband said, she's very stoic. Very well put! She hasn't really acted depressed or sad at all, but given that she's going along now with seeing a PCP, an oncologist & a gastro, I know she's up to fighting. When she pointed out that she should have listened to me before, I explained how I saw things. She was so dehydrated the night that I took her to the ER that she really shouldn't have been still with us. She was shutting down. Her voice was weakening, she doesn't remember 2 days. Her colon should have ruptured already, so they said. And, if living through those 2 situations wasn't enough, she survived the surgery and went from having what they declared a stage 4 cancer to a stage 2. Obviously, she's meant to be here for a reason. My dad is taking wonderful care of her, which honestly surprises me. He's so used to being cared for that we wondered how he would do. Now that he's home he's really doing well. I told him that he had better not lecture her, and he hasn't! I'm so glad. She doesn't need that.
She has her appointments lined up, thanks to my dad. (The great news is that she is willing!!!) Towards the end of the month she has a 3 day period that is all about doctor visits. My dad is shoveling as much food into her as he can. :) She is already starting to look better, less like she's deflating. She had started to get that really sunken look for a while there. We'd like to get her fattened up for chemo.
One thing that I don't understand is why they took her port out? She had one in her neck. Maybe it was just a temporary, but I don't understand why they would do a temp when a port is like a staple for cancer patients? I'm glad she had it; if for no other reason, it helped my daughter to be less fearful of her upcoming port implant. I just thought it was weird. I realize that this is all in God's hands. I keep praying, knowing that I'm not ready to lose my Mommy yet, but also just wanting what is best for her. Right now, I'm hopeful that she can beat this. Her attitude is great, she's already getting out of the house to go to her restaurants and shopping. But I know how hard chemo can be. I don't want her to suffer, but I'm hoping that she'll have the will to keep fighting. If you asked me 3 weeks ago if she would, I'd have said no. Right now, I believe she will beat this.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Never Thought I'd See the Day
For all of the years that my mom said that she didn't care if she lived or died, for all of the years that she insisted we let her rot & die without ceremony, we landed at the Emergency Room last night for her. As I wrote back in March, she told me that she knew she was sick, but then she retracted her statement. I was busy putting two and two together; I was fairly certain she had liver cancer. It would make sense after so many years of drinking, though she didn't drink heavily. At least a daily whiskey sour when I was a kid, sometimes more. In later years, a glass of wine a night. She didn't talk to me for a week or two when I explained to her that I thought she had cancer, and she needed to be seen. She told me she didn't care, she wasn't going to bother, and then she claimed she was fine. I knew better. So did my husband and my sister. My father was quick to tell me that she just needed to eat at Sweet Tomatoes more. Yeah, apparently he thinks I'm dramatic. I think he's confused.
Well, I tried to push her, but she's more stubborn than I am so I was left to make subtle suggestions and hope for the best. Finally yesterday, some five months later, she decided she was ill enough to go to a doctor. I jumped on this. She thought they would send her to the hospital, so I pointed out that if we went to the ER she wouldn't have to wait for an appointment. They wouldn't send her home and then to a hospital (like she had thought). She was severely dehydrated by this point. She is still dehydrated a day later after several bags of IV fluids. She couldn't keep ANYthing in her. I am so grateful that she finally decided to go to the hospital. She told me that she was so sure that she had cancer that she ordered a wig off of TV. It was sitting unopened in her living room. She knew she would need chemo, and lose her hair. That gave me great hope. To me, that said that she's ready to fight for the first time. It always made me so sad that she views herself as so disposable. We've always tried to build her up, but she's always been a hardened pessimist. Oh, so much can change in a short time!
She decided the hospital wasn't too bad in the first few hours. She was a little disappointed that they assigned her a male nurse; she doesn't trust male nurses, but hers was ok. Then they made her drink about 40 ounces of contrast fluid for her CT scan. She was so happy to have a drink! Until about ten ounces were gone and she still HAD to drink the other 30. That's when she started to become less than amused. The CT went well, and it wasn't too long before the doctor came in with a diagnosis. She said, "Well, I have some bad news." Pause. Waiting for us, I guess. Then, "You have colon cancer. A big mass that's blocking the intestines. That's what's causing all of your discomfort." Ok. I think they were surprised at how quiet and calm we both were, but we both knew. She had told the doctor earlier that she had a tumor. I had marveled over how distended her stomach was. Standing up it didn't look it at all. Laying down... different story. Next came the G-tube. Now there's a treat. I had never seen this before. From a clinical perspective, WOW is that cool! When it's your mom, not so much. She took this like a pro. She teared up just a bit, but she was so reserved & brave! She made me so proud. It's amazing how much crap was hanging out in her stomach. Obviously, at this point they had decided to keep her. I had planned for that anyway. At 4 A.M. we were moving upstairs. They put me in a waiting room to get her set up, but they forgot about me. Around 5 A.M. I got back to her. She was very uncomfortable because of the G-tube, but determined to make the best of it. At 5:30 I couldn't stay safely anymore. I had to go home and try to get some sleep. I finally crashed around 6:30 A.M. I barely slept because I was waiting for the phone to ring.
When I got back to the hospital with my oldest daughter around 1 P.M., the surgeon had already come to see her. He hadn't left the floor yet so they asked him to please come speak with me. He explained that everyone has a valve in the colon that opens and closes to let fluid down. He said most people with colon problems have that valve stuck shut so nothing goes down. Well, mom's was working just fine, and was so full that it was getting ready to blow. They had to operate now before it ruptured. He couldn't tell me if anything else was affected because the tumor was about the size of a medium potatoe. Awesome, huh? He said that even if it hadn't reached the liver or lymph nodes (normally staging it at stage 2 or 3) because it caused such an obstruction it was considered a stage 4. He said that he would be surprised if it hadn't spread. Was I shocked? No, because my mom is immune to pain. She's spent so many years ignoring pain that she's become an expert. Why would this be different? She knew it was bad, but she could still ignore it. We only had a few minutes with her before they took her downstairs. I was able to kiss her, tell her how much we love her, and finally get out a few tears. That's as much as I've been able to get out. I'm so used to dealing with trauma that I just can't cry like I want to.
She made it through surgery very well. They had said that depending on how well she did, she may go back to our normal room, or she may go to ICU. The surgeon also said that she would likely have a colostomy bag, but it would be reversible. He said that he would try to stitch her up without out, but no guarantees. Seriously, this guy wins my "Docs That Rock" award. She came out of surgery missing most of her colon, with no colostomy bag. How did he do it? I have no clue, but my relief was amazing! I was sure that she would be very depressed and lose the will to fight if she had to deal with the bag. Thank you, Dr. Brock! He said that the reason her stomach hurt so badly was the tumor had grown into the abdominal wall. His good work at removing the mass from the wall resulted in a hernia, but that seems like a small price to pay. They also placed a large, 3 line port in her neck. She couldn't figure out why she was having such a hard time speaking. Well, that does it. She seemed in good spirits this evening despite the pain level being, at times, "an 11 on a scale of 1-10".
I am a huge mixed bundle of emotions. I am so grateful that she finally agreed to treatment, that she did so well, and that she seems to be going along with their plans for her future. I am still worried about her prognosis. We haven't really been given that yet. I know what stage 4 generally means, but the surgeon also said that it didn't appear to have spread, though he would be surprised if it hadn't. We will know more when the pathology report comes in. It's refreshing to have dropped the appearance that everything is fine, what are you worried about? It's nice to just be there with her. She's been so darn cute. I am really not prepared for things to get any worse than this. She's the only one that I call. She's been the one I turn to for many years, even when I knew I would get yelled at by her. I wish to God that she had gone in March, but she was only going on her terms. I can't change the past, but I can certainly help to mold her future. With God guiding and strengthening us all, we'll get by. She probably shouldn't have lived through the severe dehydration, but she did, and she was damn lucky that colon didn't rupture, 'cuz that likely would have killed her very quickly. The way I see it, she's already sailed through potential death twice. See? Miracles do happen. We are very blessed.
Well, I tried to push her, but she's more stubborn than I am so I was left to make subtle suggestions and hope for the best. Finally yesterday, some five months later, she decided she was ill enough to go to a doctor. I jumped on this. She thought they would send her to the hospital, so I pointed out that if we went to the ER she wouldn't have to wait for an appointment. They wouldn't send her home and then to a hospital (like she had thought). She was severely dehydrated by this point. She is still dehydrated a day later after several bags of IV fluids. She couldn't keep ANYthing in her. I am so grateful that she finally decided to go to the hospital. She told me that she was so sure that she had cancer that she ordered a wig off of TV. It was sitting unopened in her living room. She knew she would need chemo, and lose her hair. That gave me great hope. To me, that said that she's ready to fight for the first time. It always made me so sad that she views herself as so disposable. We've always tried to build her up, but she's always been a hardened pessimist. Oh, so much can change in a short time!
She decided the hospital wasn't too bad in the first few hours. She was a little disappointed that they assigned her a male nurse; she doesn't trust male nurses, but hers was ok. Then they made her drink about 40 ounces of contrast fluid for her CT scan. She was so happy to have a drink! Until about ten ounces were gone and she still HAD to drink the other 30. That's when she started to become less than amused. The CT went well, and it wasn't too long before the doctor came in with a diagnosis. She said, "Well, I have some bad news." Pause. Waiting for us, I guess. Then, "You have colon cancer. A big mass that's blocking the intestines. That's what's causing all of your discomfort." Ok. I think they were surprised at how quiet and calm we both were, but we both knew. She had told the doctor earlier that she had a tumor. I had marveled over how distended her stomach was. Standing up it didn't look it at all. Laying down... different story. Next came the G-tube. Now there's a treat. I had never seen this before. From a clinical perspective, WOW is that cool! When it's your mom, not so much. She took this like a pro. She teared up just a bit, but she was so reserved & brave! She made me so proud. It's amazing how much crap was hanging out in her stomach. Obviously, at this point they had decided to keep her. I had planned for that anyway. At 4 A.M. we were moving upstairs. They put me in a waiting room to get her set up, but they forgot about me. Around 5 A.M. I got back to her. She was very uncomfortable because of the G-tube, but determined to make the best of it. At 5:30 I couldn't stay safely anymore. I had to go home and try to get some sleep. I finally crashed around 6:30 A.M. I barely slept because I was waiting for the phone to ring.
When I got back to the hospital with my oldest daughter around 1 P.M., the surgeon had already come to see her. He hadn't left the floor yet so they asked him to please come speak with me. He explained that everyone has a valve in the colon that opens and closes to let fluid down. He said most people with colon problems have that valve stuck shut so nothing goes down. Well, mom's was working just fine, and was so full that it was getting ready to blow. They had to operate now before it ruptured. He couldn't tell me if anything else was affected because the tumor was about the size of a medium potatoe. Awesome, huh? He said that even if it hadn't reached the liver or lymph nodes (normally staging it at stage 2 or 3) because it caused such an obstruction it was considered a stage 4. He said that he would be surprised if it hadn't spread. Was I shocked? No, because my mom is immune to pain. She's spent so many years ignoring pain that she's become an expert. Why would this be different? She knew it was bad, but she could still ignore it. We only had a few minutes with her before they took her downstairs. I was able to kiss her, tell her how much we love her, and finally get out a few tears. That's as much as I've been able to get out. I'm so used to dealing with trauma that I just can't cry like I want to.
She made it through surgery very well. They had said that depending on how well she did, she may go back to our normal room, or she may go to ICU. The surgeon also said that she would likely have a colostomy bag, but it would be reversible. He said that he would try to stitch her up without out, but no guarantees. Seriously, this guy wins my "Docs That Rock" award. She came out of surgery missing most of her colon, with no colostomy bag. How did he do it? I have no clue, but my relief was amazing! I was sure that she would be very depressed and lose the will to fight if she had to deal with the bag. Thank you, Dr. Brock! He said that the reason her stomach hurt so badly was the tumor had grown into the abdominal wall. His good work at removing the mass from the wall resulted in a hernia, but that seems like a small price to pay. They also placed a large, 3 line port in her neck. She couldn't figure out why she was having such a hard time speaking. Well, that does it. She seemed in good spirits this evening despite the pain level being, at times, "an 11 on a scale of 1-10".
I am a huge mixed bundle of emotions. I am so grateful that she finally agreed to treatment, that she did so well, and that she seems to be going along with their plans for her future. I am still worried about her prognosis. We haven't really been given that yet. I know what stage 4 generally means, but the surgeon also said that it didn't appear to have spread, though he would be surprised if it hadn't. We will know more when the pathology report comes in. It's refreshing to have dropped the appearance that everything is fine, what are you worried about? It's nice to just be there with her. She's been so darn cute. I am really not prepared for things to get any worse than this. She's the only one that I call. She's been the one I turn to for many years, even when I knew I would get yelled at by her. I wish to God that she had gone in March, but she was only going on her terms. I can't change the past, but I can certainly help to mold her future. With God guiding and strengthening us all, we'll get by. She probably shouldn't have lived through the severe dehydration, but she did, and she was damn lucky that colon didn't rupture, 'cuz that likely would have killed her very quickly. The way I see it, she's already sailed through potential death twice. See? Miracles do happen. We are very blessed.
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