The Waiting Game

 Nobody likes playing the waiting game, especially not me! I'm a very impatient person and don't have time to waste on waiting, but sometimes, we don't have a choice. Wait we must. Especially when it comes to lab results and other medical tests. Then, we're at the mercy of a phone call or a piece of paper that comes in the mail. 

7-10 days. That's what the doctor said right after he'd completed my stomach biopsies. It's a disconcerting thing to say to someone who's already been through cancer. Naturally, one thinks the worst. Though I try not to, my mind instantly goes to the "what if" zone. What if I get the news that I've got cancer again? What would I do? How would I react? Would I do things differently this time around? Would I opt for chemotherapy instead of foregoing it? And the answer is a big, fat I DON'T KNOW! 

Not knowing how I'd react bothers me. Of course, I'd want to be aggressive. I'd want to do whatever necessary to live as long as possible, but how would I know if I was making the right decision? How does anyone for that matter? All we have to go on is whatever our doctors tell us. And we trust them. We trust them because they have more medical expertise than we could ever dream of but then, some of us, ones like me, start digging. We do our homework. We look at unconventional methods of treatment, grasping at straws, hoping upon hope for something that won't be as damaging to our bodies while still letting us live. 

I don't want to go there. I don't want to think about the possibility of cancer again. I've already been there. I've done my time. But I'm no dummy. I know there are no guarantees it won't come back again some day. 

Why does it have to be that way? Why can't cancer be a once and done kind of thing? Why can't we have a zap it, kill it, and be done with it mentality? Maybe because there's too much money to be made in dragging out the treatment...hmmmmm... What do you think? 

Of course it's a racket! There are big bucks to be made in cancer care. And since we don't have a cure or even know exactly what causes most cancers, we wing it. 

Today is the 10th day since the biopsies were performed. I am holding the doctor to his word. I'll be watching the mail like a hawk today and hopefully, I'll get good news. My husband says if there was bad news, the doctor would have already called and he's probably right. That old addage, "no news is good news," has been true in the past for so many things. 

My gut instinct says it's probably nothing serious but my mind says, "You can't be sure." 

So I wait. 

Please keep me in your prayers. But don't pray for patience! They say when you pray for patience you get tribulations to teach you patience. I don't want or need any more trials, thank you very much! 

I'll keep you posted and thanks in advance for your prayers. Have a blessed day!

Contemplation

 Sitting outside as the sun began to dip below the horizon, thoughts were swirling around in my head. It had been a challenging day. 

I woke up at 1:00 a.m. as the cpap machine blasted cool air in my face. Quickly pulling off the mask, I got up to check the machine. It still had plenty of water in the reservoir. I wondered why the sudden blast of air. Had I quit breathing? I made a mental note to check later in the day. 

After taking a restroom break, I crawled back into bed, reaffixed the cpap mask and drifted back to sleep. I slept until a little after 4:00 a.m. and was jolted awake from an odd dream. I lay back down and tried to get back to sleep. Finally, after about half an hour of restlessness, I got up and grabbed my headphones. I pulled up a YouTube video by one of my favorite ministries and listened until I dozed off. I slept until just before 7:00 a.m. and was able to silence my alarm before it went off. 

I was having an upper endoscopy at 9:30 a.m. This would be the third one I'd had done in the past year and a half. I wasn't looking forward to it. 

My husband had taken the day off. Since I'd be under anesthesia for a little while, they didn't want me to drive. I was glad he was with me. He's such a calming presence. 

When we reached the hospital, the parking lot was full. I was surprised to see that so many people were already there and wondered if they were visiting patients or if they were patients themselves. 

The nurses on the gastroenterology floor were extremely nice. I was thankful they were attentive and kind. 

Soon it was time for the needle stick, the part I always dread. It's so hard for nurses to find a vein in the back of my hand. Those veins are very tiny. Although she tried twice, she finally had to move a little higher up on my arm using a vein scanner to find one big enough for the I.V. 

I was wheeled down the hall into the procedure room and met another nurse, the anesthesiologist and the doctor. I was unusually calm and knew it must be from all the friends that were praying for me. 

The nurse helped me get turned over onto my left side and placed a device in my mouth that would keep it open for the procedure. Then the anesthesiologist placed oxygen over my nose and mouth as she injected a white liquid into the I.V. She told me to take a couple of deep breaths and I don't even know if I made it to the second one before I was out. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the recovery room. 

A nurse sat at the foot of the bed monitoring my vital signs. She saw I was waking and asked how I was feeling. When I tried to speak, my throat was so sore I could barely croak out any words. 

I don't know how long I lay there before the doctor came in but when he did, I made a point of listening hard so I could remember what he was about to say. I was still feeling groggy and didn't want to miss anything. 

He told me he'd done several biopsies and he should have the results back in a week or so. He told me not to worry and to call his office with any questions. Then he left and the nurse began to remove the I.V. and told me I could get ready to go home. 

An orderly came to wheel me downstairs to the car. On the way down, I asked her how many patients they would see that day. She said the average was seventy. I was surprised.seventy endoscopies or colonoscopies a day seemed like a lot for an 8 hour period. 

I hadn't had anything solid to eat for almost 3 days and I was famished. My sweet hubby had promised to get my favorite, Chinese food, on the way home. 

We got home and I ate a little. I didn't want to overload my stomach, especially since I'd just had that procedure done and my throat felt like someone had taken sandpaper to it. 

In the back of my mind, I keep wondering how I'll react if the doctor tells me they found cancer. I don't know if I can go through that again. 

Since being diagnosed in 2014, it seems that thought has haunted me continually and I don't know how to get rid of it. 

I tell myself all the time that I'm not supposed to worry about anything - God tells me that in His Word, but sometimes, my flesh is weak and I can't help it. 

I don't think I'll be able to fully relax until I get the all clear from the doctor. 

My inbox holds an unread email regarding the upcoming annual National Cancer Survivor's Day. I've celebrated it every year since 2015, the year after I was diagnosed. This year, I'm not too keen on participating. I don't know why. I'm just kind of tired of cancer and everything to do with it.

Can you say Roto-Rooter?

For months I've had trouble swallowing. It started in December and got progressively worse. After several visits to the ER, urgent care, and to the ENT, we thought we'd found a solution. The ENT treated me for a salivary stone, then, after more tests, said I had an auto immune disorder. One frustration let to another as I endured test after test. The last one, a modified barium swallow study, revealed the problem wasn't only in my salivary glands, but also in my esophagus. 

I'd had an upper endoscopy done earlier in the year for severe acid reflux and a hiatal hernia, so I was surprised they wanted to do another, but the swallowing was getting more and more difficult. I wasn't being able to eat normal meals. After a few bites, I felt full and would blow up like a balloon from bloating. I knew something was extremely wrong. 

There had been a follow-up endoscopy scheduled for October, but I knew I couldn't wait that long, so I went into the portal and asked to be put on the waitlist. When they called Friday to offer a Tuesday appointment, I jumped on it. I knew God was in the details because this doctor was always booked up and it was rare to get a spot. If I didn't take it, I'd have to wait until October and by then, I'd have probably choked to death! 

Friday through Sunday, I existed on protein shakes and water. The test wasn't until 2:45 p.m. on Monday, so after midnight Sunday, I was instructed only to have one sip of water with my blood pressure medication. 

All day Monday, I waited and watched the clock. Time moved so slowly. Finally, when it was time to go, hubby and I dashed out the door. We'd calculated how long it would take to get to the hospital in a neighboring town - 45 minutes. 

We made small talk along the way and not long after we'd departed, a concrete mixer pulled in front of us. He was going so slow and there was no way to pass him. 

We poked along behind him for the majority of the way until finally, just a few miles from the hospital, at 2:40 p.m. he turned on a side street and we were able to cruise at a faster pace. 

I was dropped at the front door of the hospital while hubby went to find a parking space. I didn't want my slot to be given away, so I race walked to the elevators and made it to the suite just in time. 

As I sat and waited the waiting room, I was praying. God, please, help them find a vein! Every time I go to a medical office for a blood draw, the staff have trouble. I'm limited to my left hand because of the breast cancer and lymphedema. Those veins are so tiny and crooked it makes it difficult for even a well-trained nurse to find a usable vein. 

About 15 minutes passed and I was called back. As usual, the nurse had trouble. A doctor came over to see if she could help and neither of them could find a good vein. Then, they brought in a vein scanner light. 

The vein scanner lit up my veins and they were finally able to find one. 

After inserting an IV, I was wheeled into the room and the doctor told me what he was going to do. I had no idea he was planning to stretch my esophagus until that very moment! Apparently, the barium swallow study had revealed a stricture that was causing the food to stick in the middle of my throat. 

I was turned on my side and a device was placed in my mouth to hold it open. They strapped on an oxygen cannula and administered the anesthetic. Instantly, I was out. 

When I awoke, I was in the recovery room with the worst sore throat you could imagine. It felt like someone had taken a broomstick, wrapped it in sandpaper, and reamed me out. I asked the nurse if they had something I could drink. I told her I hadn't had anything since 5:00 a.m. and that was just a sip of water. I was surprised when she said no that I could get something after I left. How rude! I'm sure they had a little dixie cup they could have filled with tap water. Heck, I would have even taken water in a urinalysis cup at that point, my mouth was so dry. 

She went over paperwork with me and then the doctor came in. He told me all he'd done. Not only had he stretched my esophagus, but he'd also taken multiple biopsies of my throat and stomach. 

I'll have to wait for 7-10 days to get the results from those tests. In the meantime, I'll be living on liquids and soft foods for the next day or so while my throat heals. 

I'm really scared about a possible recurrence of cancer and since my brother died of esophageal cancer, this worries me even more. 

All I can do is pray and trust God's got this. I'm so tired of going through medical procedures. I just want to feel normal for a change, but what's normal, right? Are any of us really normal? 

What's in your belly?

I'm getting a little nervous about Friday. I'll be having an EGD done that day. What's an EGD, you say? Well, it's a test used to discover any abnormalities in your esophagus, gastrointestinal system, and your duodenum. (You can read more about that here or watch an informational video about it here.) It seems the last one I had done, a little over 3 years ago, revealed stomach polyps, a hiatal hernia, and Barrett's esophagus. Since I was diagnosed with breast cancer 20 months ago, they want to recheck the polyps in my stomach and do biopsies on them. I'm not looking forward to being sedated again but I know it's necessary. I'm just praying that anything that needs to be seen will be clearly visible and that the doctor will have the wisdom he needs for the best treatment options. All that being said, I'm thankful we have insurance to cover the cost of the procedure. Hopefully, everything will be okay but if it's not, at least they'll find it early and be able to do whatever they need to do to take care of it. Please pray for NO CANCER!!!

Last night, we had our first date night in ages. We didn't do anything fancy, just went to dinner and a movie, but it was good to FEEL NORMAL again. Even though I wore my prostheses all evening, things almost felt like they did BEFORE CANCER and that was a good thing! It feels good to know I'm taking baby steps at reclaiming my life. It seems like it's been so long since I've felt normal. I'm sure I'm not the only one who's experienced this after being dealt the cancer card but it would have been nice to have had a "head's up" and to have known all of the emotional struggles that might come my way...then again, it's probably better that I didn't. At least this way, I can face them one at a time, as they come and that seems to be a good strategy in winning this war. 

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