My initial foray into the Canadian medical system as an adult consisted of one Kidney stone procedure in 2006 (that has been the most intense pain I've ever felt, and I include my subsequent surgeries for colon cancer in that category. I never want to experience a kidney stone again!) Prior to the K.S., I had some minor procedures as a kid for tonsillitis and lazy eye.
After age 9 or so I was reasonably healthy, except for a penchant for coffee and cheetos. The heartburn I was experiencing in my mid-30's led me to drop a lot of my 'fattier' foods (including cheetos). I even acquired a vegetable and rice steamer. My overall diet was probably still high in the starches, but annual visits with my family doctor and a flirtation with cholesterol-that-was-high-for-a-person-with-family-history helped me to curtail a lot of the snacking. Not completely of course, because I did not want to be responsible for causing the local Tim's coffee shop to close for lack of business. Plus I was active, rode my bike a fair amount, and figured I was in reasonably decent shape.
So to rejoin the story of my Colonscopy results thus far: I had experienced fatigue and weight loss, the colonscopy showed a major blockage and the pathology report was, as we shall see, not good news.
March 30th is one of those days that I believed I would never forget, as it was the day I sat down with my surgeon and discussed the findings and the CT results. Numerous drawings of the colon, arrows pointing to tumour sites, discussions about surgery, medical terms flying around; it was all a blur to me. The most terrifying part was the build up to the staging: I was diagnosed as Stage IV. I was not prepared for this. I had lost both parents to cancer - for both it was fast, from diagnosis to passing. I was sitting on the exam table and felt the hot flush that signals one is about to faint. I needed to lay down and it was some minutes before I could compose myself again.
Once I sat back up I started to assimilate some of what my surgeon was saying, but all I knew was that I had a tumour surrounding and choking my colon, that it was in the lymph nodes, that there were tumours on one lobe of my liver. It was in and through me, and it wasn't good.
I would be scheduled for surgery for a hemicolectomy April 8th, to remove the tumour on my descending colon. My last day of work was March 31 2010. The CT after my colonscopy showed three visible tumours in one lobe of my liver, and I had to go for a chest xray to see if it was in my lungs, but I would not find out the results until the day of my surgery.
For me the rest of that day was spent on the phone, walking in the local park, talking to my family, friends and employer, "sharing" the news, such as it was. I made a decision that day, to do whatever I could to survive. I adopted the mantra "I may have a best-before day, but today is not that day". And I picked an inspirational song, "The Mary Ellen Carter" by the late Stan Rogers. This song helped a lot during some of those late nights in the hospital. You can listen to it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fT-aEcPgkuA
As my colon was so constricted I was on a strict pureed-food only. In order to avoid too much weight loss I compensated with high caloric fluids. DQ and McD's provided much of this in the form of something called a "milkshake". I was constantly hungry and the cravings were never satisfied. Heck, I even tried puree of fish sticks (ok, it was no worse than puree of anything else...)
After the visit with my surgeon things moved very fast indeed. I had my Xray the same day as my visit. I contacted my employer and let them know I would be unavailable for work (they have been very supportive during this entire process for which I am grateful). I needed to make a Will, and assign a Power of Attorney. I had to do a Pre-Assessment Clinic, where I was subjected to a number of blood tests, EKG, and I talked to a pharmacist and the anaesthesiologist. Forms were signed, but I was focused on just getting through this process. The week and days went by in a blur. In retrospect I think that the short time line was an advantage to me, as I didn't have time to think about the upcoming surgery.
Thursday, April 8, 2010 at 08:00AM was the scheduled time for my colon surgery. I was up at 05:00AM, and registered by 06:00AM. I had friends and family with me that morning, but when my name was called to begin the pre-operation preparation I felt alone and helpless. Incredibly the spark of hope was already lurking in a place I never expected: with the nurse reviewing my results and prepping my IV. I learned from her that my Xray results were good! "Chest unremarkable" I believe is the exact phrase used. It meant there was no (visible) tumours present in my lungs. I also found out my weight, and at some 170 pounds I had dropped some 24 pounds since before Christmas. Not a recommended method of dieting...
Pre-operative procedure continued; I actually walked down to the room outside the OR where I was then situated in the bed that would eventually be my vehicle into the OR proper. Here's what I remember thinking when I was finally in the OR: the operating table is really really narrow, and it was really really cold in there. I remember the nurse telling me to hold her hand while the anaestheologist placed the epidural into me. Then....nothing. Drugs work fast.
The next memory I recall is waking up in the recovery room, unable to open my eyes but hearing conversations of the staff and my friends and family around me. I had successfully come through my first major surgery. My journey would continue...
Terry I had never heard of Stan Rogers before this - thank you. That song is inspiring, like yourself!
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