My 10 Year Anniversary
I actually wrote this post at the beginning of July and just today decided to publish it:
The 4th of July was my 10 year anniversary...but wait...doing the math...K is 12...10 year anniversary...deep gasp...
Not my 10 year wedding anniversary sillies, my 10 year surgery anniversary. The surgery that was "exploratory" and "emergency" because they had no idea what was wrong with me, the surgery that removed a huge tumor from my intestines along with 25 inches of my small intestine, and my Jejunum, the surgery that saved my life.
WARNING GRAPHIC MEDICAL POST AHEAD PROCEED WITH CAUTION:
I don't think I've ever written down the whole experience of my time with my tumor, and since the 4th of July this year I have been thinking a lot about it.
Let's start at the beginning. K was about 1 1/2 years old when my trouble began. I started having very sporadic stomach aches. No biggie I've had stomach aches in the past. These were different. They would come on with no warning, they would last for hours, I would be doubled over in pain, and could not function. Over the months they started coming more frequently. I went to the doctor, had multiple CAT scans, was diagnosed with food poisoning, the stomach flu, gal stones, kidney stones, lactose intolerance, non-functioning gal bladder, an ulcer, and even told that I probably just had regular stomach aches like everyone else and that I just had a low tolerance of pain. (ok people I had delivered an 11 lb baby the year before with no epidural...low tolerance of pain, I think not!). They got to the point that they were daily, I was unable to function at work, when I was home with K I would put on a video and keep rewinding it all day long because I could not get out of bed. I started vomiting and not holding anything down. Finally when the Dr. realized that I was not in good shape he admitted me to the hospital for more tests. I had a Gastroscopy, and a HEIDA scan, from which my Dr. determined that my gal bladder did not work. So they too it out!
Usually when you have your gal bladder removed you are in the hospital a total of a few hours, I was in the hospital for an entire week! I started feeling better, I could eat solid foods again, I could sit up in bed without doubling back over in pain. Life was good. They sent me home and for 2 whole days I was fabulous! Back to my old spicy self.
Then it started again. The pain, the not keeping anything down, the frequent trips to the urgent care only to be told that I had just had surgery give it some time. A week after I had left the hospital I could not be left alone in my own house. I could not get up and walk alone, I could not fix a meal, I could not even get to the bathroom without help walking. One day my good friend Heidi came over and took K to the park for me while my mom and grandma 'babysat' me, I asked for help to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror for the first time in 7 days...boy was that a shock. I didn't recognize myself, I was pale, gaunt, my eyes were sunken in and black, and my skin was dry and leathery, my hair was thin and stringy, it scared the day lights out of me. I was dehydrated and really bad!
I asked my mom to drive me to the Dr's office and the minute I got there the Dr. knew I was in big trouble. He hooked me up to IV fluids immediately and watched me for the next few hours. My appearance improved because I had some fluid in me and he sent me home to rest, said if I wasn't feeling better by morning then to come back. Well I was back at 8am sharp the next morning looking much like I had when I showed up the night before. Again with the fluids and he finally gave in and sent me to the hospital for admittance. That was only after I had to prove to him that I was as sick as I was saying, the proof involved me puking 2 liters of fluid after only being given about 6 by mouth. Yeah, we had Kaiser Insurance and they sucked sometimes. I find that if you are puking while in their office the Dr.'s are much more likely to take you seriously. So off to the hospital I go again.
I also have to say that I have at this point had a countless number of priesthood blessings that I was sure were going to cure me. However I continued to worsen. I couldn't understand the plan. Thank goodness I didn't understand the plan and I thank God daily that I learned the lessons that I learned during this time.
More tests, more drinking radio active crap, more x-rays, and a week later they determine that I have a blockage in my bowels somewhere they just don't know where and they don't know what it is. Oh, by the way we took out a perfectly good galbladder...so sorry! Soooo emergency surgery for me on the 4th of July.
Quick side note, my hubby painted my toe nails red white and blue for me, I had a private hospital room by then that my family decorated with coloring book pages they colored themselves, I had tons of get well cards hung all over the place, Chris brought me my own pillows from home, after surgery my mom's friend who was a beautician came and cut my hair for me (in my hospital room), and my mother-in-law brought me a whole basket full of smelly soaps, fluffy towels, and perfume (I shouldn't have to smell like the hospital!).
The surgery went well. I was back in my room, in tons of pain with a nice big 7 1/2 inch incision down the middle of my belly complete with 25ish staples and a tube up my nose sucking all my stomach contents out! The next morning my mom came bright and early at 6am (like she did every day. I was up anyway the nurses always come in early to do vitals) before she went to work, that day though I felt different, I asked her to call in sick. This is a huge deal people because my parents DO NOT CALL IN SICK! She agreed and about 1/2 hour later my Dr came in to talk to me. Now this Dr. is the one that works the hospital for my insurance, he was not my regular Dr. and he was not my surgeon. I had only met him a couple of times and he was a jerk. Anyhoo, in comes my Dr. he says he has the results of the findings from my surgery. I had a tumor in my small intestine. His exact words were "You have cancer, we are not sure how much radiation and chemo you will need but you have intestinal cancer" It was like he was telling me I had the flu, or something. No emotion, no concern, no sitting on my bedside, the nurse was shocked at his attitude, and thankfully my mom was there or he would have delivered that news to me alone!
It's a funny thing when someone tells you that you have cancer, it's wasn't like any experience I have ever had, or ever hope to have again. My grandmother had just finished her round of chemo for breast cancer the month before and it was awful! I watched her go through all that and even though I had a 2 year old, in my mind, I was not putting myself though that and my family would be fine once I was gone. I would die they would move on and that was that!
So I immediately called Chris sobbing and told him to come right away, I didn't want to deliver that news over the phone. It was a 30 minute drive from our house to the hospital so I had a bit to compose myself. He had to find a baby sitter, get himself up and dressed, and was there in 20 minutes! I don't remember how I told him, or even if I did, my mom may have. I don't remember his reaction very much, it was the, "we'll get through this" or some thing to that effect. The next few hours were a morphine induced blur. More tests, more X-Rays, my family coming to be with me. I spent most of the time away from my room in the x-ray labs. When we got back I see my Dr. (the jerk) being yelled at by my surgeon at the nurses station, weird, I think, but again morphine induced haze and I don't register that it's not normal for Dr.'s to yell at each other in the halls. I get back to my room and my surgeon comes in and apologizes for not getting there earlier (like before the other Dr.) and says that I DO NOT HAVE CANCER! I did have a large benign tumor in my small intestine that they removed and cleared the area around it (25 inches to be exact) and that I was going to be fine. No chemo, no radiation, nothing! The tumor had actually ripped a hole in my intestine and the surrounding tissues had moved to plug it up. If it had not been plugged then my fluids would have leaked into my abdominal cavity and I would have had a massive, life threatening, infection!
In a matter of 3 hours I went from cancer girl, to cancer free! I know every cancer patient wishes that they had the same "luck" as I had. It was weird thinking I had cancer even for those 3 hours. I was eerily calm, very reflective about life, and basically had excepted my lot.
The next 3 weeks (yes 3 weeks) I slowly recovered in the hospital. I could not eat or drink anything. Yes, I went an entire month without food or water. Let me tell you it was H-E-L-L. The first week is the worst, then your body just kind of resigns itself to the fact that you are not getting anything to eat and adjusts. You don't feel hungry anymore, you are weak as a kitten. They insisted that I walk several times a day. I had 2 IV poles an NG tube (the tube in my nose), and had to use a walker because I was too weak to stand on my own.
Side note: Chris came every day to walk me around, he brought me flowers, shaved my legs, gave sponge baths, changed my sheets (the nurses were awful to me) did things that a husband shouldn't have to do until you are 90 years old and feeble and only then if you don't have the money to hire a nurse to do it, took care of K, made sure she had baby sitters, ate nasty hospital food most days, and didn't go to work for a month. He tried to go to work and they kept sending him away. He wanted to work to get his mind off things but they would not let him, AND they paid him for every minute he was gone! We had only been married for 3 years at this point and I would have totally understood if he had walked away, especially because the worst part was yet to come.
I'm back on solid food the last 3 days of my stay, I'm feeling pretty good. Chris snuck me some Haagen Dazs ice cream and I was doing well, except for this one problem. Except for this stuff coming from my incision. I had asked the dr. about it for 4 days, I asked the nurse staff, no one seemed too concerned, until it was really bad!
SERIOUSLY IF YOU ARE SQUEAMISH LOOK AWAY NOW!
My surgeon came into examine me (or so I thought) and take out my staples, I was going home soon. He took those staples out, then something strange happened...the nurse came up to my head, hugged me tight, held my hands, and started whispering in my ear that it was all going to be alright...wait...what was going to be alright? Then it happened, the dr stuck his finger in my incision and proceeded to tear it back open! No anesthetic, no warning, no explanation, NO nothing! I was screaming, I was sick to my stomach, I was horrified when I looked down (which I only did that once and for the next month I didn't look at myself again) I had a 7 1/2 inch long 4 inch wide, 4 inch deep hole in my abdomen. The nurse packed me with gauze, the Dr. walked quickly out without a word, and I was left alone to sit and cry and try not to vomit. I called Chris once again and told him to come right away, I couldn't even describe over the phone what they had done to me, it was too sickening.
Later that day I learned that I had a massive infection in my incision (DUH!), and that I was going to be left open to heal from the inside out. When the nurse came into change my dressing that evening he flippantly says, "It's not so bad, I can't even see your intestines". Seriously does no one in this hospital have a heart, or a filter, or a freakin' bedside manner?
This is where Chris' job gets harder. After I am sent home he as to clean and dress my incision twice a day, by himself, no medical license, no training, no help from me because every time he does it I have to put my pillow over my head and sing Primary songs so I can't hear or see what he is doing. I still have to be babysat because I have a 2 year old that I can't hold, or carry. I can't drive, or walk very well, so my MIL offers to be my sitter. Every morning for several weeks I go to her house when Chris goes to work and he picks K and I up on the way home. She teaches me to quilt, we watch lots of TV, and she's very patient while I eat her out of house and home, I'm finally eating solid again and everything tastes sooooo goooood!
I know this is a long story but it does take up almost a year of my life. From starting symptoms, diagnosis, surgery, recovery, etc it took a long time. I was off work for 6 months, for a year after that K asked in every prayer she said for mommy to get better, and I'm left with a HUGE scar on my belly (that's why there are never any cute preggo belly shots of me), PTSD from my hospital stay (seriously don't ask me to take you to a CAT scan or to hold a bottle of barium, or to look at an NG container, I'll start a full blown panic attack!), huge gaps in my memory like years of my life before surgery GONE, and a huge appreciation for my life, priesthood blessings, the Lord's will and not mine, and very good insurance that paid over $100,000.00 for my medical bills and I paid Z-E-R-O!
I've been mostly fine ever since. I did have one incident when I was 8 months pregnant with C, where I had some scar tissue blocking my bowels again. They put me in the hospital again NPO, those are the worst letters ever when you are in the hospital they mean nothing my mouth, no food no water! 3 days later my intestines moved on their own and I was on a soft food diet until I delivered him and had all my room back! Occasionally I get those scar tissue blockages and they are NOT FUN! I had one with L's pregnancy that lasted about 2 hours and I was on my bathroom floor writhing in pain, but they mostly last a few hours and are gone as quickly as they come. The kids and Chris refer to them as one of "mommy's stomach aches", which means leave me alone and let me cry.
Through all this I learned that I have an amazing husband. He has a stomach of IRON, and nerves of steel (at least on the outside). I learned that just because you want something badly enough and just because you think you have the faith to change things you are not the one in control Heavenly Father is! I learned that friends will be there for you even when you think they won't. I learned that life is fragile and I am fragile and need to rely on others for lots of things. I learned that you never know what is going on in someones life, so don't judge, I'm sure I flaked on a lot of responsibilities while I was going through this and not one person made a fuss when they had to pick up my slack.
So there is my story. I wrote this for myself, I wrote it for my kids, and I'm looking forward to my 20 year anniversary!
The 4th of July was my 10 year anniversary...but wait...doing the math...K is 12...10 year anniversary...deep gasp...
Not my 10 year wedding anniversary sillies, my 10 year surgery anniversary. The surgery that was "exploratory" and "emergency" because they had no idea what was wrong with me, the surgery that removed a huge tumor from my intestines along with 25 inches of my small intestine, and my Jejunum, the surgery that saved my life.
WARNING GRAPHIC MEDICAL POST AHEAD PROCEED WITH CAUTION:
I don't think I've ever written down the whole experience of my time with my tumor, and since the 4th of July this year I have been thinking a lot about it.
Let's start at the beginning. K was about 1 1/2 years old when my trouble began. I started having very sporadic stomach aches. No biggie I've had stomach aches in the past. These were different. They would come on with no warning, they would last for hours, I would be doubled over in pain, and could not function. Over the months they started coming more frequently. I went to the doctor, had multiple CAT scans, was diagnosed with food poisoning, the stomach flu, gal stones, kidney stones, lactose intolerance, non-functioning gal bladder, an ulcer, and even told that I probably just had regular stomach aches like everyone else and that I just had a low tolerance of pain. (ok people I had delivered an 11 lb baby the year before with no epidural...low tolerance of pain, I think not!). They got to the point that they were daily, I was unable to function at work, when I was home with K I would put on a video and keep rewinding it all day long because I could not get out of bed. I started vomiting and not holding anything down. Finally when the Dr. realized that I was not in good shape he admitted me to the hospital for more tests. I had a Gastroscopy, and a HEIDA scan, from which my Dr. determined that my gal bladder did not work. So they too it out!
Usually when you have your gal bladder removed you are in the hospital a total of a few hours, I was in the hospital for an entire week! I started feeling better, I could eat solid foods again, I could sit up in bed without doubling back over in pain. Life was good. They sent me home and for 2 whole days I was fabulous! Back to my old spicy self.
Then it started again. The pain, the not keeping anything down, the frequent trips to the urgent care only to be told that I had just had surgery give it some time. A week after I had left the hospital I could not be left alone in my own house. I could not get up and walk alone, I could not fix a meal, I could not even get to the bathroom without help walking. One day my good friend Heidi came over and took K to the park for me while my mom and grandma 'babysat' me, I asked for help to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror for the first time in 7 days...boy was that a shock. I didn't recognize myself, I was pale, gaunt, my eyes were sunken in and black, and my skin was dry and leathery, my hair was thin and stringy, it scared the day lights out of me. I was dehydrated and really bad!
I asked my mom to drive me to the Dr's office and the minute I got there the Dr. knew I was in big trouble. He hooked me up to IV fluids immediately and watched me for the next few hours. My appearance improved because I had some fluid in me and he sent me home to rest, said if I wasn't feeling better by morning then to come back. Well I was back at 8am sharp the next morning looking much like I had when I showed up the night before. Again with the fluids and he finally gave in and sent me to the hospital for admittance. That was only after I had to prove to him that I was as sick as I was saying, the proof involved me puking 2 liters of fluid after only being given about 6 by mouth. Yeah, we had Kaiser Insurance and they sucked sometimes. I find that if you are puking while in their office the Dr.'s are much more likely to take you seriously. So off to the hospital I go again.
I also have to say that I have at this point had a countless number of priesthood blessings that I was sure were going to cure me. However I continued to worsen. I couldn't understand the plan. Thank goodness I didn't understand the plan and I thank God daily that I learned the lessons that I learned during this time.
More tests, more drinking radio active crap, more x-rays, and a week later they determine that I have a blockage in my bowels somewhere they just don't know where and they don't know what it is. Oh, by the way we took out a perfectly good galbladder...so sorry! Soooo emergency surgery for me on the 4th of July.
Quick side note, my hubby painted my toe nails red white and blue for me, I had a private hospital room by then that my family decorated with coloring book pages they colored themselves, I had tons of get well cards hung all over the place, Chris brought me my own pillows from home, after surgery my mom's friend who was a beautician came and cut my hair for me (in my hospital room), and my mother-in-law brought me a whole basket full of smelly soaps, fluffy towels, and perfume (I shouldn't have to smell like the hospital!).
The surgery went well. I was back in my room, in tons of pain with a nice big 7 1/2 inch incision down the middle of my belly complete with 25ish staples and a tube up my nose sucking all my stomach contents out! The next morning my mom came bright and early at 6am (like she did every day. I was up anyway the nurses always come in early to do vitals) before she went to work, that day though I felt different, I asked her to call in sick. This is a huge deal people because my parents DO NOT CALL IN SICK! She agreed and about 1/2 hour later my Dr came in to talk to me. Now this Dr. is the one that works the hospital for my insurance, he was not my regular Dr. and he was not my surgeon. I had only met him a couple of times and he was a jerk. Anyhoo, in comes my Dr. he says he has the results of the findings from my surgery. I had a tumor in my small intestine. His exact words were "You have cancer, we are not sure how much radiation and chemo you will need but you have intestinal cancer" It was like he was telling me I had the flu, or something. No emotion, no concern, no sitting on my bedside, the nurse was shocked at his attitude, and thankfully my mom was there or he would have delivered that news to me alone!
It's a funny thing when someone tells you that you have cancer, it's wasn't like any experience I have ever had, or ever hope to have again. My grandmother had just finished her round of chemo for breast cancer the month before and it was awful! I watched her go through all that and even though I had a 2 year old, in my mind, I was not putting myself though that and my family would be fine once I was gone. I would die they would move on and that was that!
So I immediately called Chris sobbing and told him to come right away, I didn't want to deliver that news over the phone. It was a 30 minute drive from our house to the hospital so I had a bit to compose myself. He had to find a baby sitter, get himself up and dressed, and was there in 20 minutes! I don't remember how I told him, or even if I did, my mom may have. I don't remember his reaction very much, it was the, "we'll get through this" or some thing to that effect. The next few hours were a morphine induced blur. More tests, more X-Rays, my family coming to be with me. I spent most of the time away from my room in the x-ray labs. When we got back I see my Dr. (the jerk) being yelled at by my surgeon at the nurses station, weird, I think, but again morphine induced haze and I don't register that it's not normal for Dr.'s to yell at each other in the halls. I get back to my room and my surgeon comes in and apologizes for not getting there earlier (like before the other Dr.) and says that I DO NOT HAVE CANCER! I did have a large benign tumor in my small intestine that they removed and cleared the area around it (25 inches to be exact) and that I was going to be fine. No chemo, no radiation, nothing! The tumor had actually ripped a hole in my intestine and the surrounding tissues had moved to plug it up. If it had not been plugged then my fluids would have leaked into my abdominal cavity and I would have had a massive, life threatening, infection!
In a matter of 3 hours I went from cancer girl, to cancer free! I know every cancer patient wishes that they had the same "luck" as I had. It was weird thinking I had cancer even for those 3 hours. I was eerily calm, very reflective about life, and basically had excepted my lot.
The next 3 weeks (yes 3 weeks) I slowly recovered in the hospital. I could not eat or drink anything. Yes, I went an entire month without food or water. Let me tell you it was H-E-L-L. The first week is the worst, then your body just kind of resigns itself to the fact that you are not getting anything to eat and adjusts. You don't feel hungry anymore, you are weak as a kitten. They insisted that I walk several times a day. I had 2 IV poles an NG tube (the tube in my nose), and had to use a walker because I was too weak to stand on my own.
Side note: Chris came every day to walk me around, he brought me flowers, shaved my legs, gave sponge baths, changed my sheets (the nurses were awful to me) did things that a husband shouldn't have to do until you are 90 years old and feeble and only then if you don't have the money to hire a nurse to do it, took care of K, made sure she had baby sitters, ate nasty hospital food most days, and didn't go to work for a month. He tried to go to work and they kept sending him away. He wanted to work to get his mind off things but they would not let him, AND they paid him for every minute he was gone! We had only been married for 3 years at this point and I would have totally understood if he had walked away, especially because the worst part was yet to come.
I'm back on solid food the last 3 days of my stay, I'm feeling pretty good. Chris snuck me some Haagen Dazs ice cream and I was doing well, except for this one problem. Except for this stuff coming from my incision. I had asked the dr. about it for 4 days, I asked the nurse staff, no one seemed too concerned, until it was really bad!
SERIOUSLY IF YOU ARE SQUEAMISH LOOK AWAY NOW!
My surgeon came into examine me (or so I thought) and take out my staples, I was going home soon. He took those staples out, then something strange happened...the nurse came up to my head, hugged me tight, held my hands, and started whispering in my ear that it was all going to be alright...wait...what was going to be alright? Then it happened, the dr stuck his finger in my incision and proceeded to tear it back open! No anesthetic, no warning, no explanation, NO nothing! I was screaming, I was sick to my stomach, I was horrified when I looked down (which I only did that once and for the next month I didn't look at myself again) I had a 7 1/2 inch long 4 inch wide, 4 inch deep hole in my abdomen. The nurse packed me with gauze, the Dr. walked quickly out without a word, and I was left alone to sit and cry and try not to vomit. I called Chris once again and told him to come right away, I couldn't even describe over the phone what they had done to me, it was too sickening.
Later that day I learned that I had a massive infection in my incision (DUH!), and that I was going to be left open to heal from the inside out. When the nurse came into change my dressing that evening he flippantly says, "It's not so bad, I can't even see your intestines". Seriously does no one in this hospital have a heart, or a filter, or a freakin' bedside manner?
This is where Chris' job gets harder. After I am sent home he as to clean and dress my incision twice a day, by himself, no medical license, no training, no help from me because every time he does it I have to put my pillow over my head and sing Primary songs so I can't hear or see what he is doing. I still have to be babysat because I have a 2 year old that I can't hold, or carry. I can't drive, or walk very well, so my MIL offers to be my sitter. Every morning for several weeks I go to her house when Chris goes to work and he picks K and I up on the way home. She teaches me to quilt, we watch lots of TV, and she's very patient while I eat her out of house and home, I'm finally eating solid again and everything tastes sooooo goooood!
I know this is a long story but it does take up almost a year of my life. From starting symptoms, diagnosis, surgery, recovery, etc it took a long time. I was off work for 6 months, for a year after that K asked in every prayer she said for mommy to get better, and I'm left with a HUGE scar on my belly (that's why there are never any cute preggo belly shots of me), PTSD from my hospital stay (seriously don't ask me to take you to a CAT scan or to hold a bottle of barium, or to look at an NG container, I'll start a full blown panic attack!), huge gaps in my memory like years of my life before surgery GONE, and a huge appreciation for my life, priesthood blessings, the Lord's will and not mine, and very good insurance that paid over $100,000.00 for my medical bills and I paid Z-E-R-O!
I've been mostly fine ever since. I did have one incident when I was 8 months pregnant with C, where I had some scar tissue blocking my bowels again. They put me in the hospital again NPO, those are the worst letters ever when you are in the hospital they mean nothing my mouth, no food no water! 3 days later my intestines moved on their own and I was on a soft food diet until I delivered him and had all my room back! Occasionally I get those scar tissue blockages and they are NOT FUN! I had one with L's pregnancy that lasted about 2 hours and I was on my bathroom floor writhing in pain, but they mostly last a few hours and are gone as quickly as they come. The kids and Chris refer to them as one of "mommy's stomach aches", which means leave me alone and let me cry.
Through all this I learned that I have an amazing husband. He has a stomach of IRON, and nerves of steel (at least on the outside). I learned that just because you want something badly enough and just because you think you have the faith to change things you are not the one in control Heavenly Father is! I learned that friends will be there for you even when you think they won't. I learned that life is fragile and I am fragile and need to rely on others for lots of things. I learned that you never know what is going on in someones life, so don't judge, I'm sure I flaked on a lot of responsibilities while I was going through this and not one person made a fuss when they had to pick up my slack.
So there is my story. I wrote this for myself, I wrote it for my kids, and I'm looking forward to my 20 year anniversary!
Comments
Everyone has Kaiser story...but i think yours would win a prize.
Glad that everything turned out ok!