Thankful For What It's Not

 

I'll start with a sincere apology for the picture above. For several decades now I've written parenting columns and blog posts and I think everyone enjoys a picture at the top. Even if it doesnt *directly* relate to the post. 

After writing the post yesterday, about my big new medical adventure, I realized I left a few things out. Time to fill in the gaps.

First of all, yes, it's a pretty big mental leap to be okay with having a hole cut into your throat for an undetermined amount of time. It's going to be an adjustment, physically and mentally. But it is SO much less worrisome than so many other things.

Let's start with cancers. There are thousands of terrible cancers I could be fighting right now. I love a good memoir and have read many through the years about people, mostly women, braving life through scary and sometimes deadly cancers. Losing their ability to mother their children for the decades to come. Being sick and in pain and suffering front of their children for months, and years, and remissions and reoccurances. I'm not facing that.  

I had about a six hour scare of that two years ago. Just months after losing my second leg I was wheeling around the house and first my daughter, then my husband, said, "Why are you yellow?" 

My skin and eyes had, within hours, turned yellow. Off to Urgent Care. Preliminary tests. No other pain anywhere. It was troubling. For reasons we didnt realize at first. 

I guess when you have yellowing and no kidney or liver issues, and no gallbladder pain, it's a big sign pointing toward Pancreatic Cancer. I had just seen something about how this is one of the bad ones, the ones that are hard to cure. 

Fortunately we only held that scare for a few hours, until more testing revealed it was indeed my gallbladder, which I had never had a moments trouble with my whole life. They went in, took it out, and after a quick set back to the ICU with sepsis, I finally healed and have not had an issue since. It was the closest I've come to that scare. And it just lasted a Friday night.

Then, while being in bed sick all week, I've watched way too many documentaries and Crime Mysteries. One of the most fascinating was called Six Schizophrenic Brothers. A family with 10 boys and two girls has six of it's boys become dangerous and debilitated by Schizophrenia. It's a horrible, family destroying mental illness. And there are many others out there that are just as scary for families to deal with. 

I'm not facing a terrible mental illness. I can still take care of my family. I can be the lucid, always encouraging, cheerleader to my babies (who are now full grown adults), even with no legs and a hole in my neck. I'm still who I am. 

I dont have the energy I once had. I dont have the drive I once had. But I feel strongly that once I get my breath back, and my muscles back, I will get those back too. There's no reason I shouldnt. This surgery is purely to help me be better, not worse. 

And another thing I have to add is that I somehow lucked into the most amazing, attentive doctor I've ever had. And I've had some amazing docs through the years. Several of them I even wrote about in my book. They were professional and helped me heal my body and get back to life. But Dr. G has become the exception.

He is my ENT, just a referral out of my primary doc's office. I liked his calm demeanor from the first visit. He took his time looking over my notes, tests results, and history. Nothing rushed. Then he always took the time to explain everything to me and Jeff, until every last question was answered. 

But the surprise came after surgery. As things didnt heal as they should. He didnt run away. He was available, any time, for an appointment, and then for a text. He literally gave me his personal text number and would check in on me periodically. 

It got to the point where he would call in meds within an hour of a text saying I was having problems. He would call the pharmacist on his own to make sure I was covered. He was cautious with meds, but always worked with me to keep me comfortable and seen. 

This week when I was sick, and struggling extra, he was there, a text away. The antibiotics he called in turned the corner for me. We talked about getting in to see him ASAP - me, him, and Jeff, for a pow wow about the trach surgery. I told him about the extensive research I'd been doing and he gave me his expert opinions, over text. 

Then yesterday I said, "I'm ready. When can we get this done?"

And he replied, within 15 mins, "I'm on it." 

We have our pow wow next week.

I trust this man who removed that huge invasive thyroid out of my neck and didnt abandon me when I was the one in a million with rare complications. He listens to me. He believes me. He understands my body is not wired correctly. He's the man to have on my side. The game is set. The coach is ready. 

And this is how I am with big medical decisions. I research and plan and think, and discuss with Jeff and my wise kids, and reach out to friends I trust. Then once my mind is made up, I'm 100% there. Lets do it. Immediately. I'm ready for the change.

And I'm there. From today until the day I walk into the hospital in a couple of weeks, I'll constantly be thinking, "I cant wait to be done with this life! Give me my air, voice, and energy back!"

That's just now I do it. I did it with both of my legs being amputated. And I'm doing it again. I'm ready. Let's get going.