The “C” Word – Day 365 First Anniversary of “D” Day

One year ago today was “D” (diagnosis) day for George in the emergency room to see about a kidney stone.  One year ago – wow, amazed in the transformation that has occurred over the past twelve months.  Over the past twelve months we have run the gamut of emotions – fear, anxiety, dread, anger, frustration, elation, relief, hope and so on.  We have answered to those emotions with bargaining, denial, gusto, acceptance, etc.  We have contemplated death and contemplated life.  We have cried tears of despondence and tears of joy.  We have spent hours in doctor’s offices and hours enjoying our beautiful back yard.  Our outlook on life today is different than it was one year ago. 

While the first six months after diagnosis were all consumed with dealing with the diagnosis, the seeking of and treatment of the cancer and trying to find comfort after surgery, these past six months have seen life just beginning to shape into some semblance of “normalcy”, albeit it a new kind of normal. 

As a caregiver I have had to do things I don’t like to do but had to be done including treating/changing dressings on open stitches, inspecting bulbs of body fluids draining, and nagging my husband to do things he would at times have preferred not to do (breathing exercises, eat, walk).  I have had to push and advocate in the hospital to get things done.  There were times I had to just sit and watch my husband suffer in pain knowing there was nothing I could do to help him.  That was (and is) perhaps the hardest part of it all.

George has good days and bad days still… but the good days usually outnumber the bad ones.  Over the course of these past few months he has been following some dietary suggestions from his general practitioner and they appear to be working to some degree.  While there is always room for improvement, this particular “normal” is much better than where things were four, six and eight months ago.  Others who have had the MOAS agree that it is nearly impossible for the digestive system to go back to the way it was pre-surgery.  They will all tell you that they have learned to accept and live with whatever their system does, because it is better than the alternative of not having surgery.

In the past six months we have been actively part of a Facebook page for PMP patients and/or caregivers as well as a PMP online group that allows people to post questions, tell their story, etc.  We have seen success stories - - and we have seen others not make it through.  We recently made acquaintance with a young lady from the bay area who was diagnosed with PMP nine years ago.  While her outcome proved to be far different from expected (no cancer found), we were able to provide emotional support and advice for some of the side effects of the surgery.  We also are hoping to be a success story but that part of our journey has yet to be revealed to us. 

The biggest lesson George has learned along the way (thus far), is the importance of relationships (something I already knew, by the way).  George pointed this out in his Father’s Day Sermon that he gave at church in June.  (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yk7zb_82AL4)  He relates what he calls the Power of Prayer and the Power of Faith as well and how this experience has transformed him.  Anyone who has been through an ordeal with any cancer will probably tell you the same thing.  They may also tell you how they connect with others who have or are struggled with a cancer diagnosis.  It is something that bonds them together. 

While George’s stamina is better than it was in prior months he still tires easily.  He can tinker in the garage for hours one day, and the next succumb to sitting and relaxing.  For him this is extremely frustrating.  After ten months he is tired of being tired.  He longs for his old self that was actively busy all weekend and easily could knock out projects in short order.  Now, it seems to take him much longer to accomplish projects.  There are still gaps in his memory of the order in which things occurred.  Sometimes he says or does something out of character for him – and I have given to calling these moments “chemo brain” although we don’t know if that or the long time under anesthesia are actually the cause of them. 

In the next four to six weeks we hope to find out how things are shaping up.  We have planned visits with the surgeon and oncologist and will have the second CT scan since surgery.  This CT scan is important as it will paint a clearer picture of the three “suspect” areas discovered during the baseline scan.  If they are unchanged, that is good news.  It may mean there is scar tissue. If there is evidence of change, this will mean that the cancer has already returned.  We pray for the first scenario. 

We have a short vacation planned for September.  I informed George that I do not want to get any test results prior to leaving.  We both deserve some time off together without the worry of cancer.  It has been two years since our last vacation and that one ended up not being very relaxing.  It’s probably been three years since we had a good vacation.  I just hope that Arizona and Utah are not insufferably hot while we are there!

We don’t yet know what the future holds in relation to this “C” word.  All we know is that we have to take things one day at a time.  We have to keep praying not only for ourselves but for others going through difficult times.  We know his particular cancer has a high probability of recurring.  My hope is that we will be able to “shelve” our thoughts on this in order to go out and live.  Live life to its’ fullest.  We know God has a plan for George.  The only thing we don’t know for George, or for anyone for that matter, is how long God will give us to carry out the plan.

I will post updates on the outcome of our visits at the end of September which will actually be the one year anniversary of George’s surgery.  By then we will have had all of our appointments and our scan and will be able to report on those for anyone keeping tabs on progress. 

Lastly, we want to take time to give thanks.  Thanks to our children for being there for us, loving and supporting us, stepping in to do things we couldn’t do at times.  We thank George’s sister, Rosemary, for being available when we’ve needed her to take care of mom – and for spending countless hours just sitting and talking to George and being a shoulder to lean on.  We thank our neighbors for some delicious meals, for taking time to pop by and check in on us.  We thank the multitudes of friends and family members who have prayed, visited, called, or sent notes or cards as that helped see us through some particularly dark moments.  We thank all those who, via the power of the internet, been called upon to be prayer warriors – some people from the far corners of the world.  We thank the good Lord for the opportunity to have more time together.  We continue to need this support, the prayers, and the friendships as we go forward.  There are not enough words to express how thankful we are for everyone.  May God be a blessing in your lives.