The “C” Word – Day 93 Another Roller Coaster Day

One thing we know for sure is that cancer and surgery puts one on one rickety roller coaster ride.  Each moment brings its joys or tears, sometimes happening in such quick cycles that you do not know which end is up and which one is down.

Today was one of those up and down days.  We sent out prayers for a “Sunday miracle” that we would be able to go home today.  The drains appeared to nearly stop for awhile this morning and our hopes raised some that the tubes could come out. 

This morning, one of the “stand in” doctors came in and virtually told us that he did not expect us to go home for a few more days because there is still drainage and some of the blood counts are not really back in balance.  I totally spiraled down with that news.  A few more days??  Not now, please!!

George and I spent some emotional time in the room together.  Tears flowed, words choked out.  Why is this all happening??  Why can’t we catch a break!? 

Fortunately for us, a few good friends stopped in for a visit today.  It gave us a diversion from our heart broken souls.  George broke down as he talked to these friends and tried to describe all that he is feeling right now.  They all offered their own words of strength and comfort and some of the even knew exactly what he was feeling.  For a bit of time we also were able to talk about things outside of our own little hospital world and feel a little more normal. 

I had also decided that I need to get out of this room for a while and made the decision to go home to sleep tonight.  While George likes me here for the morale, he understands my need to have some time to myself.  I also reached out to see if friends might be able to sit with him part of the days he would be in the hospital so that I could go to work yet know he had someone to sit and visit with him.

Then… our Sunday miracle came into view.  The surgeon came in – and he is not on call this weekend.  He came in to check the charts and see how things were going - - for us.  After some discussion, poking and prodding he gave two choices.  George could go home today and then come back tomorrow to get the drains removed.  Or spend the night and he would come in tomorrow morning and remove the drains and send us home.  George opted to not have the back and forth and said he could come back in the morning and start processing us out the door to be gone around noon.  YES!!  An exit strategy. 

This roller coaster has taken us up and down and up and down again.  Sometimes repeatedly over the course of days.  Sometimes, like today, it did that repeatedly in the matter of hours.  Although I don’t feel like I have ever gone through these highs and lows like this, I have forgotten that there was a time nearly 15 years ago that I did just that.  We take so much of life for granted.  Then life throws us a curveball and we act and react to the circumstances in whatever manner works for us.  As time goes on we forget about it until the “next time”.  This has been, by far, one of the most difficult times I have ever had to go through.  Logic and emotion do battle with such vengeance at times I feel like I am being ripped apart and pulled in so many directions at the same time that I do not know what the “right thing” is sometimes. 

Then, I realize we have to step aside and look at the reality.  The reality is that George IS better.  He is better than he was a month ago at this time.  He is better than he was just five days ago.  He has his taste buds back.  He is slowly getting an appetite.  He can walk without being breathless.  He can talk without coughing.  He is responding to the antibiotics for these abscesses.  And things will still progressively get better from here on out.  We believe or are hopeful that this was the last hurdle for this particular surgery.  We hope this was the last very deep valley we have had to go through at least for a while. 

The surgeon and George talked about the emotions for a bit today.  The surgeon said that he would be worried for those patients who express no emotion when given a diagnosis of cancer.  He says that the ones who allow themselves to express emotions and shed tears are the ones he knows will get through it.  He cannot imagine what the emotions are for someone like George who had a huge surgery.  But, those emotions are expected and are part of the reality of the diagnosis.  He sat and chatted for some time.  He has been a blessing to us through all of this…. And when he gave us news that we will get our “walking papers” tomorrow we rejoiced…. Somewhat cautiously, but we sent up a silent, “Thank you, God!” today!