Feb 6th. I discover a mass on my right side in January 2008, then am unable to feel it again. I see my PCP the week after that sad SuperBowl Sunday...I had seen him for a persistant cough, which had been treated as a sinus infection, and was back to have it checked. He did a chest x-ray, which was normal. While there, I ask him to check my side where I'd felt the hardness. He initially thought it was muscle developed from coughing, then decides that it is a mass that needs to be looked at more carefully, and schedules me at Quincy Hospital for a CT scan on Friday, Feb 8th--he will see me in the office on Tuesday to discuss the findings. As instructed, I have the CT scan done at Quincy Medical Center and when I return home, as I walk in the front door, the phone is ringing. It is Dr. Sheff telling me that I need surgery and will be losing my right kidney. I guess I had figured it was a cyst or something, (NOT), and there the story of my cancer begins.
Feb 12th. I meet with Dr. Sheff on Tuesday, Feb 12th, now that I look back, I'm not sure why--for comfort I think--he answers a few questions, but he is the PCP and doesn't have a copy of the CT scan, only the report from the radiologist. I am quite naive about this at this point, having never been sick before, I guess I was looking to him to have all the answers and fix the problem. He gives me the name of a local surgeon in Weymouth and said he was the best for urology surgery. I drive back to QMC and get a copy of my CT scan to take to my next appointment.
Feb 19th. My sister Carole and I go to see Dr. O'Connell (really cute), and we like him very much and feel very comfortable with him. I give him the CD of the CT scan, and he says that he will go over it in detail with his radiologist the next day (Thursday).
Feb 20th. Today I am having a colonoscopy and a gastroscopy. Not pleasant, I'll say no more, other than, they are doing them to see if there is bleeding going on, since my bloodwork that I'd had done at my PCP appointment showed anemia. The colonoscopy is negative and the gastroscopy is positive for GERD, gastro-esauphogeal reflux disease, which is causing rawness and irritation. They put me on Prilosec.
Feb 22nd. It is now Friday, I'm at work and I'm really antsy and nervous. Dr. O'Connell finally calls and tells me that he has studied my CT scan and that I have a large 10cm renal mass with possible IVC (interior vena cava) invasion and possible lymph node involvement. He said that he can not do the surgery, that it is out of the scope of what he does, that I need to go to Boston. He gives me the name of the Chief Urologist at University Hospital, where he trained. I call there and have to leave a message, they had left for the night. I go into Luke's office, sit down, and tell he and Rob what is going on. Luke said, "we have to call Sam". He calls his sister, Erika--Sam's wife, gets his phone numbers and starts dialing. Within 10 minutes, I am speaking to Sam, who did his residency at Mass General Hospital in Boston. He gives me the names of two renal surgeons, and says that they were both great, but that one had a fantastic bedside manner, as well as being a fabulous surgeon, so he is my guy. It is a very long weekend as I wait for Monday morning to arrive to make my call.
Feb 25th. I call at 8am and voicemail says that the office opens at 9:30am. I was sure that Dr. McGovern would be in Paris on vacation or something, but he was not. In fact, I now wonder if he ever leaves MGH. I tell the nurse who answers that I have a 10cm renal mass with possible IVC invasion. She tells me that I need to come in today. Relief floods through me. She asks me to come in when he finishes surgery at 5pm. I tell her that he won't want to see me at that hour following surgery, and she says--"oh, he doesn't care". It turns out that she is his wife! She works there on Mondays, probably so she can see the guy once in awhile. Carole and I take the "T" in and find his office hidden away on Hawthorne Place. The office is empty and he is just coming in, kissing his wife and daughter, who is there helping with the office work--she is studying to be a PA, I believe. I had picked up the copy of the CT scan from Dr. O'Connell's office and Dr. McGovern stuck it into the computer. I was holding my breath....he said that I have a very large tumor, that I would indeed lose my kidney, and he could help me. What can I say about Frank McGovern, MD, surgeon/person extradinare? He is the most kind, gentle and gracious a man, a surgeon without an ego, without guile. He is a treasure. He is also adorable in his looks and mannerisms, he is charming in a sweet and unassuming way. He explains thoroughly to Carole and I what was what, sharing the pictures on the computer with us as he speaks. He says that his neighbor had had a tumor that had been similar. He makes it clear that surgery is indicated and we need to do it in the next 2-4 weeks, not too much longer after that. He gives us instructions about getting ready for the nephrectomy, and at one point, turns to Carole and says, "you should be writing this down". Carole jumped and started taking notes , which actually was completely unnecessary, because he handed us a book with everything he has just said all outlined. His surgical schedule is full, and he will squeeze my surgery in or fill a cancellation. He pulls out the boiler plate consent form and tells us that this is not everyday surgery, not like having a gallbladder out, that it is "very risky and dangerous". He outlines the problems: tumor very large, near all major organs--the IVC, the liver, the aorta, the colon. He says that if he nicks the wrong place that I will bleed to death. He writes this all on the consent form. I have dealt with healthcare consent forms for years, and I know that you are given the worst care scenarios, but this was scary. I ask him what other options I have, and he said "there are no other options". I sign the consent. Brent Lambert, MD, for whom I have worked for the last 28 years, had told me that I should ask Dr. McGovern if I could have a "layered closure" to suture the muscles back together. Brent had a friend that had just had a nephrectomy and when it was all said and done, ended up with a big stomach with no muscles to help him out. Anyway, I sheepishly ask about the layered closure (he is probably wondering why in heck, with the problem I have, I am worrying about a layered closure!), and he says that in order to do that he will have to bring in a plastic surgeon, that the surgery was going to be so long that he did not want me under anesthesia for that extra time. After thinking for a moment, he said---"remind me to do a mid-line incision". Carole and I look at each other....I am supposed to remind the surgeon?---I dutifully write it down. Carole and I leave the office and hug each other in the hallway, both feeling relief that I am in the absolute most capable hands and will be in a renown hospital for my surgery.
Feb 26th. I meet with my lawyers and start the process of getting my "affairs in order". I am terrified of having surgery and wonder if I will make it through. I walk through my darling little home in Plymouth and look at my "stuff" and wonder where it will all end up. I pay off my car. I update the list of passwords to get into my online banking, etc. I'm trying to think of anything and everything that will make it easier.....it's difficult to keep the dark side from creeping into my thoughts as I try to stay optomistic and hopeful.
Feb 27th. I go to Quincy Medical Center and have a CT scan of the liver, lungs and abdomen.
Feb 28th. The call that I had made on Friday, Feb to the surgeon at Univeristy hospital, at the suggestion of Dr. O'Connell? They call me back to make my appointment.....a little late I would say. My action plan is well on its way.
Mar 3rd. I go to the Weymouth MRI and have an MRI of the liver and the lungs. Lungs are clear. The liver has a hemangioma on it, not a problem, fairly common. Whew!
Mar 4th. Off to the Plymouth MRI and have an MRI of the pelvis and abdomen. They have a very diffcult time finding a vein for the intravenous, but I'm starting to get used to this...the pelvis shows a cyst in the left ovary. Dr. McGovern suggests that this ovary be removed, that he will find someone to come in an do it at the end of the nephrectomy.
March 5th. Dr. McGovern's office calls. Surgery is scheduled for Wednesday, March 12th. Brent called and told me that he and Sam had been talking, and they think that I should now ask for a flank incision, and that "I should tell Dr. McGovern this". YIKES. Well, Dr. McGovern had asked me to remind him of the midline incision, so....while I have the nurse on the phone, I tell her that Dr. McGovern had asked me to remind him.....she immediately puts him on the phone. I stammered and said, "Dr. McGovern, you asked me to remind you to do a midline incision, but I just want to tell you--I don't care what kind of incision you do, flank, midline, whatever will be best, I don't care". He tells me that he has to do a midline because of the size of the tumor, that he will be unable to get the tumor out through a flank incision. OK, so that's settled. I am so obedient. I seem to have to make everybody happy. What is that all about? I am still coughing.
I have an appointment today with Dr. Michaelson, the oncologist. Not wanting me to go alone, Carole is with me, thank goodness. It is daunting to be at the Yawkey Cancer Center. Dr. Michaelson is great....warm, informative, compassionate. He asks me to "donate" my tumor to the tumor bank, because of its size--they want to study it. I agree to do that and sign the paperwork and have the bloodwork done in relationship to donating the tumor. I tell him that I am still holding out for benign. He nicely says that I can do that, but it is a 99.9% chance of it being malignant. I am finally getting it....I have cancer.
March 6th. I go to MGH to have another CT scan of the kidney area. Dr. McGovern does not want to have only the CD that I had given him. He wants a CT scan that is actually in the MGH system so that he can refer to it during surgery. The MGH van takes me to the Chelsea MGH facility and the CT scan is done and is now in the MGH dateabase.
March 7th. I go to Boston to see the cardiologist* that Dr. McGovern wants me to see to get cleared for surgery due to my left bundle branch block. I am cleared for surgery.
*When I called my PCP in Quincy for a referral to the Boston cardiologist, he basically took a fit, and said that he had local cardiologists that he could send me to. I told him that Dr. McGovern wanted me to be seeing MGH physicians, so that the information would be in the MGH database. He was not happy. As a matter of fact, he only gave me one referral to see Dr. McGovern, it was for a second opinion. Well, I had gone to his recommended guy, and he had declined to do the surgery...what was I to do. Apparently, my PCP has a local network and they all refer to each other. I was ticked off and called BCBS and requested a callback from a nurse manager rep. She then called Sheff's office and they would not back down---my only option was to leave my PCP and find a new one in the MGH system. Dr. Sheff had also actually suggested that this would be what I might have to do. She wished me luck, said that it would be difficult to find someone available on such short notice. I went on the MGH website, made some calls and found a PCP on Staniford Street, a couple of blocks from MGH. It was disappointing to leave my PCP who had cared for me for years, all for little stuff, but nonetheless, I thought highly of him and really liked him. He wanted to refer me to Beth Israel, but I had my guy--Dr. McGovern. My relationship with Dr. Sheff is over.
Mar 9th. Sunday. All of my sibs come down to Plymouth and we gather at 14 Jefferson Street. Even Kenny is up from Florida. We pass a lovely afternoon together. As I break lose from the crowd, I read emails from Kristen, Robin and Mandy. Brenda comes in and reads with me and we cry.
March 10th. I go to MGH for pretesting, talk to the anesthesiologist, sign consents, more bloodwork, etc. At every appointment, through these past weeks, when I say that my surgeon is Frank McGovern, the awe and respect for him is amazing. His skills, his diligence and patience with difficult cases, his kindness to everyone he works with, etc. I can barely get them to talk about ME!! It's all about Dr. McGovern...very reassuring. I then go to Staniford Street to see my new PCP. She knows my situation and does a very quick history. I had picked up all of my records from Sheff's office, including the colonscopy and gastroscopy findings. I tell her that I have spent the last week seeing doctors who need referrals. She agrees to backdate them all and send them in. She was great. She clears me for surgery. I am still coughing.
March 11th. DBS. Day before surgery. I am pretty scared. Dr. McGovern's office calls to be sure that I'm on schedule with the colon cleanse, arrival time the next day, etc. I ask if he has found a gynecologist to remove the ovary. She doesn't think so, but will check it out. I reiterate that I really want it to be removed, otherwise at future GYN appts, they will be sending me for nasty tests to rule out...whatever. She says that Dr. McGovern helps people all the time doing the same kind of thing, and that he will call in a favor. At 1pm I start the colon cleanse, yes, just as if I was having another colonoscopy. The colon has to be cleaned out for the surgery. Around 3, Peggy King arrives, straight from Arizona. She was due to come back East for the summer, but Carole urged her to come early...I am so glad to see her. She leaves around 5pm---the cleanser is really working now.....Keith and Kristeen arrive around 9pm from Vermont. I am so happy to see them. We agree to leave for MGH around 7am---after a minor problem with the alarm clock in their room (I forgot to change it to DSTime!), we are off.
March 12th. Surgery day. We arrive and report to the Outpatient Surgery Dept (even though I will be an inpatient, it all starts here). I am brought in and given scrub pants and a thin "robe". Then more bloodwork for the tumor bank. I sit with Keith and Kristeen in the waiting room with other patients in the same getup as me, wondering what their illnesses are and wishing we were all in a happier place. They call my name and I hug K&K. As I look back at them, Keith is on his tiptoes to watch me for as long as he can with a smile that says--I love you and we'll see you in a little while. I am placed on a stretcher and a little while later, am wheeled through the bowels of the entire hospital---up and down corridors, through tiny hallways and supply closets. It is a wild and crazy ride. Final destination: the OR suite. My stretcher (with me on it) is placed in the corridor along with others waiting for surgery, being injected, etc. It is quite a long wait, probably 45 minutes at least. I am sitting up watching the goings on. Finally, my anesthesiologist comes along. He looks at my chart and says, "you have big problem, I give you big drugs, make you very happy", as he pulls the vials of drugs out of his pocket. Once again, a McGovern fan--he tells me that he has worked with many of the MGH surgeons and if he had my problem, that he would have Dr. McGovern do the surgery, that I could not be in better hands. He proceeds to try to put an intravenous in my left wrist. He tells me in advance that it is a large needle (for the "big drugs") and asks me if I am afraid of needles. I tell him I'm not too fond of them. It is pretty much a disaster. He can't get it in, and in the process there is blood dripping everywhere. Then he says that he'll put in a small needle for now, and once I was in the OR and was anesthetized, he will then put in the big one. I wondered why he didn't do that in the first place.....I am wheeled from the corridor into the OR, Dr. McGovern greets me, the mask goes over my face, right as I am in the middle of a sentence that I'm sure was profound---and am told to breathe deeply. I am out. Keith, Kristeen, Brenda and Carole are all in the family waiting room, where they are told that they will be given an update every two hours. Keith has quickly put together an email list and hits the "send" button as he receives information. The news is that it will be a long and tedious surgery, that the tumor is very large, that Dr. McGovern is going to go extremely slowly. The tumor is adherent to everything it touches which creates a lot of work and headache. It takes 6 hrs+, he spends 2 hours on my colon alone, getting the adhered tumor unattached. There are dozens of places where the blood supply to the tumors and kidney have to be disconnected and clipped with titatium clips. There is almost no blood loss. He meets with K, K, B and C at the completion of the case, and they said he looked fresh as a daisy. He says that he had been unable to see or feel any enlarged lymph nodes. Although I have no recollection of anything until the next morning, apparently the recovery room nurse dialed Keith's cell phone and handed me the phone. They are all just finishing dinner, after a long and tense afternoon of waiting and celebrating the completion of the successful surgery. They quickly head back to MGH and I guess I see them in recovery---at least they see me...it is pretty late at night at this point and they all head South. Keith says, and I totally agree of course, that whoever gave me Dr. McGovern's name did me a huge favor...thank you Luke, thank you Sam.
March 13th. I wake up--so thankful to wake up! The care at MGH is fantastic. Dr. McGovern comes in and I ask him to tell me about the surgery. He says that he actually broke into a sweat doing my surgery, that he'd kept telling his team that he had to go very slowly, that he was unable to see clearly due to the size of the tumor (14.5cm it turned out to be). He said that he lost some of the few hairs he had left on his head. I thanked him for saving my life and we hugged. He sheepishly said that he wasn't sure my life was saved yet...I guess I should have paid more attention to that....he tells me that I should do a lap around the nurses station by the end of the day. That really seems impossible to me, as I had just taken 30 minutes to get to a chair that was a few feet away from my bed. But being obedient, by the afternoon, with K and K by my side, off we went. I think I went around 3 times at least. K&K are fantastic--they arrive each day at noon, the beginning of visiting hours, and stay until they are kicked out. They have their laptops and are in my room with me most of all these hours. Keith continues the email chain, outlining the surgery and my progress. It is the best. I am so thankful for their care and their caring. They are unobtrusive, but there when needed. Dr. Michaelson stops by, my Boston PCP stops by, the surgeon who took out the ovary stops by. I am no longer coughing. Apparently, the tumor or the organs that it was pushing around in there, was tickling my diaphram. A nurse I know had told me that this could be the case and sure enough. What a relief to have the cough gone....and the tumor of course. Dr. McGovern comes by every morning and evening on his rounds (does he sleep?), and tells me that if I was feeling well enough, it is possible that I can be discharged on Friday night. He said that the hospital is not the best place to be due to infections and bugs, etc. This becomes my goal.
March 14. Brenda's birthday. It's Friday night, I have the catheter out, all IVs removed and the epidural removed from my back, I have walked a lot today, I have peed (TMI?) as you must do after having a catheter, before they will discharge you. Dr. McGovern finally arrives around 7 or 7:30pm and seems surprised to see me ready to go....in fact in later appointments, he was always holding me up as the patient that only spent 2 days there and practically had my coat on when he came in to see me on his rounds. I hug my nurse goodbye and we all walk--no wheelchair--out of MGH to the car. I have Percoset for the pain. We stop at Dario's in Quincy on the way home to get K&K's luggage and my awesome orchid plant from the Utah fam---K&K had taken it there, so that it would be safe. We arrive in Plymouth around 9 I think. I sleep on the 1st floor, K&K upstairs in my room. Uneventful first night.
Recovery. The rest of my recovery is uneventful. I am supposed to walk around as much as possible--15 minutes out of every hour. I don't even do that when I'm healthy! But I do try to walk a lot especially in these first few days. Dr. McGovern had told me to be very careful of what I ate, that he had assaulted my colon and that it wouldn't work correctly for awhile. No problem, I have absolutely no appetite. I do simple soups, then soft stuff, then.....pizza! Kristeen leaves for home on Saturday, Keith goes home on Sunday and takes my TT, since I can't drive for a month, and he has found a good deal in Vermont on getting the timing belt replaced, which it is due for. I am in Cam's room, she sleeps upstairs, but by Thursday, after Cam goes home to Holyoke, I move back upstairs into my own room and my own bed. It was heaven...thankful to be back in my bedroom with the sun shining through the windows early the next morning. Thankful and grateful for my many blessings. Talk about blessings... Peggy King comes every day to visit, to clean up, keep me company...she is the best...I think I became her project:)-- how lucky am I to have such a friend:), flowers and plants and beautiful arrangements and presents arrive. My family comes by, friends and neighbors drop in, there are phone calls and emails. I feel very loved and cared for. By 5 days postop, I am completely off of the Percoset and am starting to feel pretty good. I'm out of work for a month, I can't lift anything over 5 pounds for a month, no bungee jumping or skydiving for the rest of my life, due to only having one kidney. Gosh, I was so looking forward to skydiving...
March 21st. I go for my postop appointment with Dr. McGovern. It is supposed to be on March 26th, but I didn't like the look of my staples. I had my neighbor, who is a nurse, look at them, and she didn't think they were infected, but suggested I call him and move up the appointment. Dr. McGovern is so happy to see me looking so well and can't believe I took the "T" to Boston with Peggy. He looks at my stitches, wipes antiseptic on them (there are around 50 staples), thinks about putting a wick in the potentially infected one, but decides that it is not infected. Then the torture starts. The nurse takes an instrument designed for pain, and starts pulling out the staples. The antiseptic finds its way into the holes where the staples had been....this is not a pleasant experience. Just when I thought it was never going to end, it was over, and he said to come in the following Friday, any time during the day, so he could just have a quick look. He also said that he has the pathology report and that my oncologist is going to be very happy with it. The tumor turned out to be 14.5cm, and had filled most of the entire area between the ribs and pelvis, pushing other organs out of its way. While the tumor is malignant (at that point, I didn't even have a thought that it might be benign), it was entirely encapsulated, and all margins are clear. I am on top of the world.
March 25th. I have an appointment today to see Dr. Michaelson. Brenda and Carole go with me. I am feeling really good at this point. Almost as if nothing had happened, other than I can feel the incision. They weigh me, take my BP, take blood. I lost about 17 lbs. during surgery ordeal, but am now starting to put it back on. Dang it. Dr. Michaelson comes in and I tell him that Dr. McGovern had said that he was going to be very happy with my pathology report. His answer kind of floors me, as I thought he was going to agree and send me home to live my life as it was before February 6th. He says it was mostly good, but that the pathology shows that there is a sarcomatoid variant in the tumor and that sarcoma is an agressive cancer. He says that I am Stage 2 and that I have papillary renal cell carcinoma. He wants me to go on a clinical trial, phase 3. These drugs are already approved by the FDA, but not for this use. They are trying to find if these two drugs (I will be on one of the two, or a placebo) would block the blood supply to a potential tumor---or something like that. I agree that I will do it and he says that I will have to have testing done first--CT scans again, then the clinical trial will begin on April 29th, my 62nd birthday.
March 28th. Brenda, Peggy and me head for MGH. Dr. McGovern is going to check out my incision. I have decided to give him a large vase full of tulips along with my thank-you note to him. I had received a huge bouquet of them, from another member of the Utah fam, my daughter-in-law's sweet family--while recovering and they were the most awesome flowers to watch come to life. They lasted for over two weeks and were delightful. I want to pass on the joy that they brought me---to my hero, Dr. McGovern. I order them on Thursday night, we go to pick them up at the florist, and wait for their delivery to the florist--for about 45 minutes. Then we are off to Boston. When we arrive at his office, it is full of patients, but he sees me and whisks me into a room, knowing that it is just going to be a very quick check of the incision. Brenda comes in too, and takes a couple of pictures of the master surgeon/person. I ask him his opinion on going on the clinical study that Dr. Michaelson wants me to be involved it, and he totally thinks that I should participate, that if I were a member of his family, he would want me on the study. My incision is fine, and we are on our way. He thanks me for the flowers and his staff loves them. I hope his wife gets to enjoy them---she is the one who had told me to come in to see him on the same day that I had called...which was pretty amazing.
April 10th. I got to MGH and have the CT scan. It was a contrast CT scan, so I have to drink the yucky stuff. Peggy goes with me. We take the T and then I go back to work.
April 15th. Dr. Michaelson calls and tells me that I cannot go on the clinical trial. I have two lymph nodes in the abdomen that are enlarged and he cannot clear me for the trial. I am devastated. He asks me to come in next week to discuss.
April 22nd. Carole, Brenda and I head for MGH for my appointment with Dr. Michaelson. He has a very nice way about him, even while giving not-such-good-news. He explains the lymph node system and says that they cannot be removed. They can be removed, but it would not help. If they are cancerous, the cancer will just jump to other lymph nodes. And removing lymph nodes can cause other problems. He says there are many other reasons for enlarged lymph nodes, but that I don't have any of them. He leaves open the possibility that they are enlarged because of the magnitude of the surgery. He asks his assistant to schedule a CT scan 8 weeks from my last one. It is scheduled for June 3rd.
June 3rd. Peggy and I head for MGH. We drive the TT and park in the MGH parking garage. The CT scan is a contrast one, and is uneventful. Following the scan, they hook me up to a saline drip for 30 minutes, to flush out the contrast. They are trying to protect my remaining kidney and I am appreciative. It has been a long 8 weeks of waiting and hoping that the questionable nodes have shrunken or disappeared. But life, of course, moves on. Maia has learned how to ride a two-wheeler (she's 4 and a quarter, as she says), Katie has graduated from Laselle College, magna cum laude, and has gone to Florence, Italy for a 10-week internship, Scott was in the first graduating class of the new Bridgewater Raynham High School, Courtney was accepted at Eagle Camp to be a waitress, Kristen learns that she will have a baby sister for Addison, Alan flies to Japan to see Lyn, Emily has shoulder surgery, Ryan leaves middle school behind and will be a freshman (how did that happen?), the Celtics are striving for the NBA Championship. The clock just keeps on ticking....
June 5th. I call Dr. Michaelson's office. I have been told that the CT scan results would be available on Thursday. Kara, his RNP (nurse practitioner) calls me back in the late afternoon, and says that the scan looks perfect, except that the lymph nodes have gotten bigger. Hmmm, that would be the problem... I asked her if I should be freaking out, and she said not at all, that I would meet with Dr. Michaelson the next day, that they did not have the scan in-hand as yet, and didn't know how much bigger the nodes were as yet. But that there were treatments and I was definitely not to worry. This was not the news I was hoping for, obviously, but she said not to freak out, so I did not. Off to Brenda and Kevin's to watch the Celtics game. They win.
June 6th. Carole, Brenda and me...off to see Dr. Michaelson at the Yawkey Cancer Center, a beautiful facility. Brent had told me to be assertive and push for a biopsy rather than waiting around. I was ready. Dr. Michaelson's office is on the 7th floor, the corridors are all windows and you can see a lovely view of Beacon Hill and the State House. Nobody here seems to be enjoying the view much. It's just Dr. Michaelson today. Kara has the day off. Usually it's the two of them. I have my arms loaded with things I have found on the internet, info on other clinical trials, a presentation that a nurse sent me on advanced RCC, etc. He was kind enough to look through it all, some of which was quite dated, which I hadn't noticed, so it was totally irrelevant. He told me that the nodes have definitively gotten larger and that I need a biopsy. He reiterates that there are probably no reasons for this enlargement, other than cancer, and said that if the biopsy is positive (oxymoron?) then I will go to Stage 4. I lose my composure at this point and have a difficult time holding it all together. He waits and talks calmly. He looks at me and asks how I am feeling in my head. I tell him that I have been doing really great, until now, and my sisters tell him that I have been a rock--in a good way. The biopsy is scheduled for June 16th.
My sisters and I go to Harvard Gardens, they show me where they had sat with K&K on the night of my surgery, having dinner. We sit down and order drinks and food. I break down, feeling lost and so scared. I pull myself together and we leave for home. I am so grateful and thankful for their presence and their love and concern. I know they are suffering...I so wish they didn't have to go through this horror, but I'm not sure I can do it without them.
June 16. Biopsy day. Brenda, Peggy and me take off for MGH. I have to be there by 8:30am so we get an early start. I feel badly for dragging them out of bed so early, but I will have to be driven home. The process starts soon after my arrival. I change into the scrubs and robes, and they put in the intravenous. It was placed in my wrist and was the least painful of any IV I've ever had, in fact--I didn't even feel the needle prick. I love that nurse. Then I am taken into the room where the CT scanner is located and the doctor who is doing the biopsy comes in and goes over the consent form with me and explains the biopsy procedure. He explains that I will be having conscious sedation...I am very excited that this is the case. We use it in our surgery centers for many cases and it is wonderful. The drugs they are going to use are Versed and Fentynal. The Versed makes you forget you had anything done. She injects the drugs into my IV and they prepare to do the biopsy. They explain that they will insert a needle into my back, after numbing the area first (I am laying on my side) and keep inserting and looking with the CT scanner, then going in further, looking again, etc. The CT scanner is showing them where the nodes are that they want to aspirate. Just before they start, I tell the nurse that I am not feeling the drugs--she happily gives me more. Then the machine breaks down, and I am transported by stretcher across some corridors to another area where they do CT scans. They would not let me walk, so it meant hopping onto a stretcher, and them having to unhook things and gather up the wires and tubes. By the time I get to the new room, the nurse tells me I need another dose of sedation. The next thing I know I am in recovery, and Brenda and Peggy come in to see me. I stay in recovery for about 90 minutes, then get dressed and we are on our way. I feel fine and we discuss lunch plans. We had left Peggy's car at the South Shore Plaza, but by the time we get there I am not feeling well. Peggy drives me home to Plymouth and she goes home. It's about 2:30pm. I walk in the house, and go directly upstairs and climb into bed. I am totally wiped out. I sleep until 6pm. I am feeling better, but go to bed around 9:15 and go off to work in the morning, having totally recovered. So...the biopsy itself was uneventful....I like that word.
I am seeing Dr. Michaelson on Tueday, June 24th. I am waiting to see what the plan is...
2 comments:
Bev, My Guardian Angel,
Whatever tomorrow brings we will "GO FORWARD" one day at a time. Everyday is a gift. You are loved and cherished by everyone. The positive energy and incredible streng will ease your journey ahead. You are not alone!
Let's go to Italy and live life! Watch out here we come!
Love you,
Carole
Wow. Bev, you are amazing.. You have such a positive tone, and outlook. You are in our thoughts and prayers.. xxxxoooo
Lisa Clark (from E.C.)
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