Dear family and friends,
It is almost 7pm, and the news is wonderful. Julie is doing great, we should see her in recovery very soon, the surgeon is happy. The operation appears to have taken the entire tumor, although the full pathology is still pending. The initial exam of the removed lymph auxiliary tissue shows no sign of cancer in it... in fact, the pathologist had to call the OR back to ask where the tumor was, because he couldn't find any in the series he examined. We are exhausted. It has been a hell of a day.
My gentle reader will perhaps appreciate this narrative knowing the outcome up front as a literary device. I am going to stop writing now, and send this out. Thank you so much to everyone for your support, prayers, and positive energy. You have no idea how much difference that you made to us, and me in particular. I am about to cry, so I am going to sign off, and wish you all a very heart-felt blessing.
As I start this at about 1:30pm (PST) Wednesday, I am with Jan and Mike and Jessica, waiting in the surgical lobby area at Swedish Hospital. It has been an MF'ing long day so far, as they scheduled Julie's check-in here at 0630, then a lot of sit and wait. She actually, finally, tearfully, went into surgery at about 1130... I am not sure the cause for the delay, but the doctor explained that he didn't get out of yesterday's operations until very late, and I suspect he didn't want to start that early. If that is the case, I guess it's OK for him to be better rested.
We have waited about two hours now, and a couple of my Seattle co-workers sat with us for a while (Dan and Diane, thank you for taking out time to visit). We expect an update any minute now, as the operation proceeds for a while, then the pathologist does a check under the microscope as tissue comes out, and then it resumes as the surgeon has a better "roadmap" of where to go. We are still hoping that the doctor doesn't have to dissect into the auxiliary...
So many people waiting here, so many different stories. I don't really like it. It's not like sitting in an airport watching folks, everyone coming from somewhere and headed off somewhere else... a real sense of purpose. Instead, this is subdued, hushed, tense. No one else seems to like it, either.
The last few days have been really hard on Julie. She has second-guessed herself, questioning the treatment regimen and the need for this mastectomy. She knows that it is vital to saving her life, but that knowledge has provided little comfort. She has been alternating angry, sad, worried, accepting. This emotional roller coaster has been tough on both of us. Last night, she finally gave herself permission to let it go for a bit, and proceeded to get 3/4 drunk at the restaurant at dinner. Lemon drops... a wonderful citrus creation, highly recommended for flavor and effect. She got silly, laughed a bit too loudly, released a lot of tension, and we all got some entertainment with dinner.
Two o'clock and still we wait to hear.
Five-Twenty, and waiting.
We did hear from the OR nurse at about 3:30, to say that they had to dig into the axillary and remove some lymph vessels, which we were hoping would not be the case, but that they were closing the incision on the left, and getting to start the right (non cancerous) breast. I was told that the doc would be done by 5:30, and come to see us and give us the skinny.
So, we wait.
OK, we are getting closer... five-thirty and the OR called again. They are finishing up the last bit of the procedure, and she is headed off to the recovery room in about 15 minutes. She is doing well, and everything went the way it was supposed to. The doc will be cleaned up and come talk to us at 6. Thank God, this part is over and done. Yeah, recovery will suck, what with all the drain tubes and pain and re-emerging from the anesthesia fog, but it looks like the cutting part is done. And with it, God willing, all the cancer. I am greatly relieved, and the waiting is now easier.
I haven't decided if I will keep this open a bit longer, or to send it now and then compose another update later tonight or tomorrow with the details from the surgeon. Anyway, I am done for the moment, and hitting "save."
Ken
0 comments:
Post a Comment