I'm about 36 hours from surgery and the mix of emotions cannot be adequately described. I am determined that I will fully recover from my surgery but at the same time I fear that I will be living with cancer the rest of my life. The dichotomy of 'living with cancer' is a challenge because its supposed to kill you, particularly Pancreatic cancer. And would it be so bad if I lived and still had cancer? Yes and no - I really don't want to fight this for the rest of my life - I believe that I am supposed to do something more important. I have been given a challenge and its has not become clear as to what the road that I'm traveling will look like. So, I have to reflect upon all of the things that have happened and the most significant thing is clear - I have been supported by an army of people praying for me. I have to believe that those prayers will create a force that will help my surgery team to cut the cancer out of me and that I will then (at some point) be provided with clarity of purpose.
The support of so many prayers over the course of the past 5 months has buoyed me so many times. At my lowest point: my exhaustion, the pain, the discomfort, the fear, through it all I have felt the power of those prayers as source of strength. At this point, just before my surgery, I will draw on that force to support me in these hours. Confession = I'm a control freak. I like to know what is coming next, to be prepared, to know how to respond and the uncertainty of not knowing until after the surgery is really bothering me. Part of me would like to be awake when the surgeon places the camera in me and looks around and finds no cancer other that what is in the tumor and then be able to say 'good, now put me out' for the rest of the surgery. I don't like that I am going to have to get through the few hours of surgery out cold and then have to ask. Shouldn't I be the first to know? Its is my body after all. But that's not how it works. So I have to have faith that my surgical team, with all of the education, training and experience will successfully perform my surgery and then I will find out that the cancer was fully contained in the tumor. The last CT scan did not portray any more shrinkage but did show that the nature of the tumor changed - it was more benign than malignant = more progress.
It really is all about faith, the power of prayer, the strength of positive thinking the feel of those vibes being sent that have buoyed me along on this journey with cancer. I have to continue to have faith that all of that power will continue in my healing because I am soooo close. 36 more hours and the cancer will be cut out of me and I will be healing. I will have a nasty scar. I'm thinking about a tattoo, don't tell my mother! But still thinking - not sure I want to inflict any more pain. And that does not give either of my children permission to get a tattoo! One of the men I work with said in September on the first day of school "I don't know what cancer thought, when it messed with you". Those are the thoughts I'm focusing on now - I am going to kick cancer's ass! And with your help I will be cancer free!
Thanks for all of your support, cards, prayers, positive thoughts and vibes - they have worked. I'm going to tell my surgical team that they have so many people praying for them that they will also feel it. My gratitude is beyond description. Keep it coming - its working!!!
Monday, January 15, 2018
Saturday, December 2, 2017
Well, I have competed (am completing) Round 7 of Chemotherapy or you can call poison injections. But since it is working - my tumor continues to shrink, my C-19-9 scores are at the lowest, my blood work is maintaining the necessary range to continue treatment, I am an ideal patient. What a bizarre thing to say = an ideal cancer patient, but I guess it fits into the surreal existence in which am in functioning.
So, we have to ask ourselves how this can be. I have only one answer and it is the army of people that I have on my side. The prayers are legion, I have old lady prayers circles, friends, family who pray every day. I have at least 2 Presbyterian Churches, 2 Mosques, I'm in the bulletin of 3Parishes, and who says we have a religious issue in our country today - they are fools as all of these people are good folk with the best of intentions and that are all for me. It is these people who give me the strength of body to get through the treatments and my work day. Yes I am still working, although this week I am curtailing my schedule. My goal is to work until exams in January and then seamless transition to my substitute.
The Walk was a great experience - I got to meet SURVIVORS - I did not expect that to happen. I was surrounded by family, friends, colleagues, colleague of Tom's, Julia friends and parents - the love that day was so humbling and for that we are grateful. This journey has not been an easy one but the love that we have received has been our strength -so keep it coming BECAUSE ITS WORKING!
On my worse days - those filled with fatigue, lightheadness and nausea, I can feel the strength of those prayers getting me through the day. It fills me with relief that I don't have to do this alone. My husband, Tom, has been my greatest source of strength: the juicing (thanks Sue C) to maintain nutrition, the supplements provided by Julia's visit to Colorado, the messages, cards, surprise meals have sustained us in stressful and frightening moments. By gratitude is unbounded.
This is a marathon and I can see the finish line, one more Chemo session and then rebuilding my body before all the poison and infected organs can be taken out and my surgeon can tell me that I am cancer free. That is the goal!
So, we have to ask ourselves how this can be. I have only one answer and it is the army of people that I have on my side. The prayers are legion, I have old lady prayers circles, friends, family who pray every day. I have at least 2 Presbyterian Churches, 2 Mosques, I'm in the bulletin of 3Parishes, and who says we have a religious issue in our country today - they are fools as all of these people are good folk with the best of intentions and that are all for me. It is these people who give me the strength of body to get through the treatments and my work day. Yes I am still working, although this week I am curtailing my schedule. My goal is to work until exams in January and then seamless transition to my substitute.
The Walk was a great experience - I got to meet SURVIVORS - I did not expect that to happen. I was surrounded by family, friends, colleagues, colleague of Tom's, Julia friends and parents - the love that day was so humbling and for that we are grateful. This journey has not been an easy one but the love that we have received has been our strength -so keep it coming BECAUSE ITS WORKING!
On my worse days - those filled with fatigue, lightheadness and nausea, I can feel the strength of those prayers getting me through the day. It fills me with relief that I don't have to do this alone. My husband, Tom, has been my greatest source of strength: the juicing (thanks Sue C) to maintain nutrition, the supplements provided by Julia's visit to Colorado, the messages, cards, surprise meals have sustained us in stressful and frightening moments. By gratitude is unbounded.
This is a marathon and I can see the finish line, one more Chemo session and then rebuilding my body before all the poison and infected organs can be taken out and my surgeon can tell me that I am cancer free. That is the goal!
Sunday, October 29, 2017
A culture of care...
I would like to start today by thanking every one of you for all of your support. There are times that I feel awful, lightheaded, sore, tired beyond description but then I have this feeling of lightness and I recognize it as all of you carrying me. Your prayers, thoughts, vibes, concern, encouragement and positive words literally carry me through the day.
I, often, feel that my life has become one more surreal day after another. I often feel that I really can't have cancer as I 'look great' as all of you keep telling me. I have a full head of hair! It turning white though and I'm thinking of keeping it that way as a badge of honor. Chemotherapy is hard and makes me feel sick, tired, sore and sometimes angry. I'm angry that I have spent most of my life doing all the right things and somehow have been betrayed. I grow my own food! I work out (I've done 6 triathlons), I eat good food, don't smoke (never have), maintain a good weight, I have managed my asthma for the past 20 years and yet I get cancer - it just doesn't make sense. Then, I think to myself that cancer made a mistake, not just because I will beat this but because I have so much support in my effort to beat this. And this is where the culture of care that I have noticed has such a wonderful impact. The atmosphere at MSKCC (Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center) is so caring and positive, every employee in whom I have come into contact with is so caring, concerned and gentle towards me and my family. They are vested in not just my treatment but in me as a patient who is battling cancer and they do this every day, as part of their profession.
The culture of care is not exclusive to MSKCC, it is all around me. Its in my colleagues who make copies for me, who encourage me, who assist me on a daily basis by helping carry my things into the building, out of the building, with planning when I'm out (Lauren), who check in to see what I need even when I can't remember what I'm doing from one moment to the next. They call this Chemo brain and there are days when I am so thankful for that stack of sticky notes I have to leave myself, all over my desk, lesson plans and calendar, without them, my students would think that I have lost my mind. There are days when I'm faking it until I'm making it,,, to the next bell. Teachers are part of a caring profession - we care for other people's children all day long - and sometimes those same students actually remember the things we have taught them.
The culture of care is in my family and friends. My family, who calls, texts, stops over to help with whatever we need. My extended family who continue to reach out and help with medical care and comfort has proven that cousins really are the best. My friends from all parts of my life who continue to offer support of all kinds. Thanks Judy for the best card ever!!! Southside Johnny sent me a card - the entire band signed it! I screamed like a teenager. The prayers sent are all so supportive and continue the culture of care. It makes me believe that there is no way that I can't win - how could cancer beat my team? I have the most support and care that anyone could ask for and I am so thankful - it makes me strong, it makes me believe that my medical team will be successful in my treatment and surgery and that I will become that statistic of a cancer survivor.
My family has created a team to participate in the Purple Strides Walkathon for the Pancreatic Action Network. We will be walking on November 12 in Parsippany. Many have already signed up to walk and donate. The PANCAN raise money for treatment and research to actually cure this cancer as it has become the number 3 diagnosed cancer in the United States. We will be wearing purple and participating in a culture of care to defeat Pancreatic Cancer. Click on the link to either participate or donate, go to team MP STRONG and sign up or donate and become part of the culture of care.
https://secure.pancan.org/site/SPageServer/?pagename=purplestride_event_details&fr_id=1320
I, often, feel that my life has become one more surreal day after another. I often feel that I really can't have cancer as I 'look great' as all of you keep telling me. I have a full head of hair! It turning white though and I'm thinking of keeping it that way as a badge of honor. Chemotherapy is hard and makes me feel sick, tired, sore and sometimes angry. I'm angry that I have spent most of my life doing all the right things and somehow have been betrayed. I grow my own food! I work out (I've done 6 triathlons), I eat good food, don't smoke (never have), maintain a good weight, I have managed my asthma for the past 20 years and yet I get cancer - it just doesn't make sense. Then, I think to myself that cancer made a mistake, not just because I will beat this but because I have so much support in my effort to beat this. And this is where the culture of care that I have noticed has such a wonderful impact. The atmosphere at MSKCC (Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center) is so caring and positive, every employee in whom I have come into contact with is so caring, concerned and gentle towards me and my family. They are vested in not just my treatment but in me as a patient who is battling cancer and they do this every day, as part of their profession.
The culture of care is not exclusive to MSKCC, it is all around me. Its in my colleagues who make copies for me, who encourage me, who assist me on a daily basis by helping carry my things into the building, out of the building, with planning when I'm out (Lauren), who check in to see what I need even when I can't remember what I'm doing from one moment to the next. They call this Chemo brain and there are days when I am so thankful for that stack of sticky notes I have to leave myself, all over my desk, lesson plans and calendar, without them, my students would think that I have lost my mind. There are days when I'm faking it until I'm making it,,, to the next bell. Teachers are part of a caring profession - we care for other people's children all day long - and sometimes those same students actually remember the things we have taught them.
The culture of care is in my family and friends. My family, who calls, texts, stops over to help with whatever we need. My extended family who continue to reach out and help with medical care and comfort has proven that cousins really are the best. My friends from all parts of my life who continue to offer support of all kinds. Thanks Judy for the best card ever!!! Southside Johnny sent me a card - the entire band signed it! I screamed like a teenager. The prayers sent are all so supportive and continue the culture of care. It makes me believe that there is no way that I can't win - how could cancer beat my team? I have the most support and care that anyone could ask for and I am so thankful - it makes me strong, it makes me believe that my medical team will be successful in my treatment and surgery and that I will become that statistic of a cancer survivor.
My family has created a team to participate in the Purple Strides Walkathon for the Pancreatic Action Network. We will be walking on November 12 in Parsippany. Many have already signed up to walk and donate. The PANCAN raise money for treatment and research to actually cure this cancer as it has become the number 3 diagnosed cancer in the United States. We will be wearing purple and participating in a culture of care to defeat Pancreatic Cancer. Click on the link to either participate or donate, go to team MP STRONG and sign up or donate and become part of the culture of care.
https://secure.pancan.org/site/SPageServer/?pagename=purplestride_event_details&fr_id=1320
Thursday, September 21, 2017
One month ago today: September 21
One month ago today we received a phone call telling us that a biopsy of what was called a cyst was positive for Pancreatic Cancer. Utter disbelief is one phrase to describe my reaction the other was denial. Since then, though, so much has happened and much of it good, that my denial is gone.
The denial gets knocked out of you pretty quickly when you start chemotherapy. Two weeks ago, I woke up my regular time and went to school. The response as I signed in at the front desk of my high school, Summit High School, was a mix of 'what the hell are you doing here' to 'best of luck today' to 'I thought you had chemo today'. I had enough time to teach two classes before I had to leave. I really believe that only if you are a teacher, can you understand the need to be with your students and make it all seem normal because I had yet to tell them that I had cancer. It was important to me to let them know that chemo wasn't going to stop me because they would find out eventually. My plan was to wait until Back to School Night and tell their parents first. It was also important for me to be with my students - its hard to explain - but you get a certain kind of energy in the classroom. Its empowering to know that you can send them the message that the world goes on and you can still remain a part of it. They appreciate that you are with them and you can feel that. So its important.
We arrived at a surgery center in Westfield to have a port installed in my chest. At this point my anxiety level was at its peak. The nurses, technicians and surgeon are all so kind and ask you the same questions and it kind of makes you annoyed because you have cancer and there is nothing kind about what is going to happen today. As I was getting on the table the surgeon informed me that they would drape me so I couldn't see anything, numb me so I couldn't feel anything and medicate me to relax me. Then he informed me that he would be telling me step by step everything he would be doing, at that point I had had enough. I responded with (warning) "I don't want to hear or know a fucking thing". There was dead silence but I could hear the technician trying to squelch his laughter - I appreciated that. The procedure was over in a few minutes and I had this thing sticking out of my chest just over my right breast and a tube running over my collar bone, both were bandaged. It was sore and uncomfortable immediately. But off to Sloan Kettering in Basking Ridge we went.
The place is like an office building rather than a medical facility which is nice. After blood tests and a short wait, we were lead into a room of fancy cubicles where everyone is receiving chemo. About 100 people. Before the nurse hooked up a series of 4 bags of chemo I told Tom that we had to pray. Tom, Patrick and I held hands and prayed, I was scared. Their hands felt so strong and reassuring. It just doesn't feel good, it feels like poison, there is no other way to describe it. I was wrapped in a prayer shawl crocheted by a cousin, I help onto a wooden cross given to me by a dear friend for comfort throughout. We got to the last bag, 15 minutes in, I had a reaction and they stopped the chemo and gave me an antidote, I had a reaction to that, they had to wait until it wore off before starting again. It took about 4 1/2 hours to finish which they said was ok for my first time.
Over the next 2 days, I threw up a few times, felt like I had the flew, didn't eat much, could not sleep and then finally slept. It took me 4 days to recover enough to go to work. Those 3 days of work were hard as I was light headed, puked every day and just felt lousy. Through it all though was a feeling that I was being held up by some invisible force. During the course of the week, people kept reaching out, cards arrived, emails, phone calls, all telling me about who was praying for me. That invisible force was strong! It was the power of prayer! I felt better every day. I napped at work, I napped at home, I ate little bit more each day but it was the power of prayer that made me feel that little bit better every day.
I have Catholic parishes, Presbyterian congregations, The Jesuits of NYC, The Christian Brothers of Baltimore, Prayer groups all over! And I can feel it, it conveys a sense of peace which helps me sleep as well as function during the day. The most important thing is that it gives me confidence that even though the chemo will be hard and I will feel lousy and sick there is an army of people that are pounding heaven with prayers which will give me strength. Sometimes I am so overwhelmed with the love that I cry for joy. When you have children, you know that your life will never be the same, but its a happy never be the same. Cancer is not that way - its an angry never be the same. I feel like I am in a boxing ring, in the fight of my life and the entire audience is on my side. The bookies may be betting against me but they are going to lose their money because I am going to win! Cancer has met its match. I have the best Oncologist and Surgeon on my side with the best training and equipment. I have the power of prayer on MY side - cancer can't beat that. So tomorrow is my second round of chemo. I had a great week this week, I'm going in strong. I'm ready for Round 2 - are you ready to rumble???!!!!
The denial gets knocked out of you pretty quickly when you start chemotherapy. Two weeks ago, I woke up my regular time and went to school. The response as I signed in at the front desk of my high school, Summit High School, was a mix of 'what the hell are you doing here' to 'best of luck today' to 'I thought you had chemo today'. I had enough time to teach two classes before I had to leave. I really believe that only if you are a teacher, can you understand the need to be with your students and make it all seem normal because I had yet to tell them that I had cancer. It was important to me to let them know that chemo wasn't going to stop me because they would find out eventually. My plan was to wait until Back to School Night and tell their parents first. It was also important for me to be with my students - its hard to explain - but you get a certain kind of energy in the classroom. Its empowering to know that you can send them the message that the world goes on and you can still remain a part of it. They appreciate that you are with them and you can feel that. So its important.
We arrived at a surgery center in Westfield to have a port installed in my chest. At this point my anxiety level was at its peak. The nurses, technicians and surgeon are all so kind and ask you the same questions and it kind of makes you annoyed because you have cancer and there is nothing kind about what is going to happen today. As I was getting on the table the surgeon informed me that they would drape me so I couldn't see anything, numb me so I couldn't feel anything and medicate me to relax me. Then he informed me that he would be telling me step by step everything he would be doing, at that point I had had enough. I responded with (warning) "I don't want to hear or know a fucking thing". There was dead silence but I could hear the technician trying to squelch his laughter - I appreciated that. The procedure was over in a few minutes and I had this thing sticking out of my chest just over my right breast and a tube running over my collar bone, both were bandaged. It was sore and uncomfortable immediately. But off to Sloan Kettering in Basking Ridge we went.
The place is like an office building rather than a medical facility which is nice. After blood tests and a short wait, we were lead into a room of fancy cubicles where everyone is receiving chemo. About 100 people. Before the nurse hooked up a series of 4 bags of chemo I told Tom that we had to pray. Tom, Patrick and I held hands and prayed, I was scared. Their hands felt so strong and reassuring. It just doesn't feel good, it feels like poison, there is no other way to describe it. I was wrapped in a prayer shawl crocheted by a cousin, I help onto a wooden cross given to me by a dear friend for comfort throughout. We got to the last bag, 15 minutes in, I had a reaction and they stopped the chemo and gave me an antidote, I had a reaction to that, they had to wait until it wore off before starting again. It took about 4 1/2 hours to finish which they said was ok for my first time.
Over the next 2 days, I threw up a few times, felt like I had the flew, didn't eat much, could not sleep and then finally slept. It took me 4 days to recover enough to go to work. Those 3 days of work were hard as I was light headed, puked every day and just felt lousy. Through it all though was a feeling that I was being held up by some invisible force. During the course of the week, people kept reaching out, cards arrived, emails, phone calls, all telling me about who was praying for me. That invisible force was strong! It was the power of prayer! I felt better every day. I napped at work, I napped at home, I ate little bit more each day but it was the power of prayer that made me feel that little bit better every day.
I have Catholic parishes, Presbyterian congregations, The Jesuits of NYC, The Christian Brothers of Baltimore, Prayer groups all over! And I can feel it, it conveys a sense of peace which helps me sleep as well as function during the day. The most important thing is that it gives me confidence that even though the chemo will be hard and I will feel lousy and sick there is an army of people that are pounding heaven with prayers which will give me strength. Sometimes I am so overwhelmed with the love that I cry for joy. When you have children, you know that your life will never be the same, but its a happy never be the same. Cancer is not that way - its an angry never be the same. I feel like I am in a boxing ring, in the fight of my life and the entire audience is on my side. The bookies may be betting against me but they are going to lose their money because I am going to win! Cancer has met its match. I have the best Oncologist and Surgeon on my side with the best training and equipment. I have the power of prayer on MY side - cancer can't beat that. So tomorrow is my second round of chemo. I had a great week this week, I'm going in strong. I'm ready for Round 2 - are you ready to rumble???!!!!
Sunday, September 3, 2017
Feeling blessed and embraced by all of the support
Friday Sept 1 was my original surgery date. But due to my transfer to Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center (MSKCC) for treatment and surgery, I instead arrived on E 72nd St for a CT Scan. While I was laying down on the table the technician informed me that this scan was of my lungs. I was startled, confused and nervous. Did they think the demon had spread to my lungs? Is this how they tell you? So I took a few deep breaths, started by Rosary and relaxed. Within 5 minutes I was done and another few minutes out it in the beautiful day. I called Tom and asked him what he knew about this scan on my lungs - he responded that Dr. Jarnigan had explained that since the original scan revealed a nodule on one of my lungs he wanted to rule out spread. This is proof that you must bring someone with you as a second set of ears = you will not remember everything the medical staff says!
I decided to walk down to 33rd St to pick up the PATH back to Hoboken and then the train home. Its 3 trains to MSKCC. And its less than 20 miles away. But for NJ/NY it can be hours of traffic without mass transit. The day was just perfect, I walked under the Queensborough Bridge - a lovely structure and wondered which immigrants built that marvel. I recalled Tom admonishing me for wanting to walk so far - its a few miles at most - and just then it struck me that my mother, aunts and Grandmother had walked these streets for miles, many times. It filled me with strength to know that I was able to do the same thing.
A few blocks more and I noticed a young red haired woman jogging toward me who looked familiar. Sm Lillo, one of Julia's high school gang of girls. She yelled my name and began hugging me (sweaty too). She expressed how happy she was to see me and was similarly startled that I don't look like I have cancer - I don't feel like I have cancer either. Sam told me how much the girls plan on helping Julia and supporting her. It was very heartwarming as I have known these girls since they were 12 and they have grown into wonderful, accomplished young women.
As I zig zagged my way to Herald Square, I looked to my left along Park Avenue and about 38th St. and there was a beautiful church. So, in I went and they were having noon mass = perfect. This church was out of something in Europe - the Stations of the Cross were Renaissance quality oil paintings, the ceiling was beveled and so much gold gilt and the alter over the table seemed to be made of Mother of Pearl. I thought to myself "well we are on Park Avenue" then I thought "there are rich Catholics?" All the Catholics I know come from working class immigrants - how did these folks get rich? Either way it was a lovely mass, I lit a candle and prayed for strength, and the expertise of my medical team. While I was there though, I felt so embraced by all of the people who have reached out to lend support through, thoughts/vibes and prayers. I just felt it working.
Out on the street I realized I was hungry and was a bit overwhelmed by trying to find a place to eat when I saw and Irish flag = bingo, food. As I walked down this side street I realized it was filled with restaurants, I began to look at menus and found a Moroccan place named Arabesque. This became, nearly, the best part of the day. I sat in the front at a white marble bar - it was bright and sunny. The bartender poured me a glass of water and recommended a delicious and simple dish, kale, mushrooms over risotto. I chose a glass of Sancer
re. This perfectly attired woman who was in her 80's began to strike up a conversation. Her birthday is September 9 and she will be 87. She was born in Paris and when the Nazis occupied they forced her to wear a yellow star. Her parents were able to get her out of Paris and to Normandy (now my interest was piqued!). She stayed with 'an aunt' but you could not miss the respect with which she said the following, "I was young, scared, relatively alone and then the Americans came". She became so excited. "My parents thought they were sending me to the quiet countryside, they had no idea how loud it would be when the Americans arrived". She explained that she met a young GI who had forged his age to enter the war, he was 16 and was from NYC. After the war they kept in touch but she was dating a boy who she stated came from some wealth but he didn't seem to want to work and he didn't read. That was enough for her father to send her to relatives in Passaic NJ. She contacted the American GI, they married and he passed away a few years ago. She lives on Park Avenue in assisted living and has lunch every day at this café. She looked at me and said - 'you are not well'. I responded, 'you are correct, I have cancer." She told me I would be fine, people have survived worse but be sure to take care of your skin as it is the most important part of your body. What and inspiration!
Walking home from the train through Taylor Park (one of my favorite places) the sky was painted with clouds that swept across it as though done by an artist. I received a phone call from the Doctor's office informing me that my CT scan was negative for spread to my lungs. I was overjoyed but not really surprised as it followed the them for the day. Tom and I had a lovely night on our patio, dinner, a fire and dancing. It was a blessed day.
I decided to walk down to 33rd St to pick up the PATH back to Hoboken and then the train home. Its 3 trains to MSKCC. And its less than 20 miles away. But for NJ/NY it can be hours of traffic without mass transit. The day was just perfect, I walked under the Queensborough Bridge - a lovely structure and wondered which immigrants built that marvel. I recalled Tom admonishing me for wanting to walk so far - its a few miles at most - and just then it struck me that my mother, aunts and Grandmother had walked these streets for miles, many times. It filled me with strength to know that I was able to do the same thing.
A few blocks more and I noticed a young red haired woman jogging toward me who looked familiar. Sm Lillo, one of Julia's high school gang of girls. She yelled my name and began hugging me (sweaty too). She expressed how happy she was to see me and was similarly startled that I don't look like I have cancer - I don't feel like I have cancer either. Sam told me how much the girls plan on helping Julia and supporting her. It was very heartwarming as I have known these girls since they were 12 and they have grown into wonderful, accomplished young women.
As I zig zagged my way to Herald Square, I looked to my left along Park Avenue and about 38th St. and there was a beautiful church. So, in I went and they were having noon mass = perfect. This church was out of something in Europe - the Stations of the Cross were Renaissance quality oil paintings, the ceiling was beveled and so much gold gilt and the alter over the table seemed to be made of Mother of Pearl. I thought to myself "well we are on Park Avenue" then I thought "there are rich Catholics?" All the Catholics I know come from working class immigrants - how did these folks get rich? Either way it was a lovely mass, I lit a candle and prayed for strength, and the expertise of my medical team. While I was there though, I felt so embraced by all of the people who have reached out to lend support through, thoughts/vibes and prayers. I just felt it working.
Out on the street I realized I was hungry and was a bit overwhelmed by trying to find a place to eat when I saw and Irish flag = bingo, food. As I walked down this side street I realized it was filled with restaurants, I began to look at menus and found a Moroccan place named Arabesque. This became, nearly, the best part of the day. I sat in the front at a white marble bar - it was bright and sunny. The bartender poured me a glass of water and recommended a delicious and simple dish, kale, mushrooms over risotto. I chose a glass of Sancer
Walking home from the train through Taylor Park (one of my favorite places) the sky was painted with clouds that swept across it as though done by an artist. I received a phone call from the Doctor's office informing me that my CT scan was negative for spread to my lungs. I was overjoyed but not really surprised as it followed the them for the day. Tom and I had a lovely night on our patio, dinner, a fire and dancing. It was a blessed day.
Thursday, August 31, 2017
What the heck has happened? Is this for real?
August 15th has usually been a good day for me, for no particular reason other than good things typically happen to me on that day. It all depends on our you look at it.
My day started with a work out at a gym I have come to really enjoy, Fine Fit in Summit, NJ. Then a shower before heading off to my primary care physician for my referrals to my Asthma doctor. While I was there a pain began on my left side. I explained this to my primary and she told me to contact my Gastro doctor. I had had the routine colonoscopy 5 weeks earlier and had been experiencing some uncomfortable symptoms: upset stomach, cramping, constipation. But what woman age doesn't feel like this. But this was pain, real pain and it was localized on my left side, mid abdomen. She told me to call the gastroenterologist. I got into my car and called and asked to be seen immediately - he was on vacation of course - but the pain in my voice was obvious and I was recommended to go to the urgent care center. In the 2.3 miles it took to get there the pain was unbearable. The staff was so concerned that they began to prep me for surgery. Blood tests and a chest X-ray were done but also an abdominal X-ray. Both showed nothing. So a CT scan was done, with contrast, which means you have to drink that yucky stuff, wait and hour, drink more yucky stuff, wait another hour and then the scan. The doctor suspected that I had an undiagnosed, burst diverticulitis - I was going with that diagnosis. But then the results showed that I had what they called a cystic lesion on my pancreas. I was admitted to the hospital for pain management and we discovered that it would take 3 days to get the Endoscopy. So Friday the 18th I had that test and they performed a biopsy of the pancreas and the cyst. We were referred to a surgeon and saw him on Monday morning and he scheduled me for surgery for the next Friday. It was strange but I was really was not that concerned as I am a relatively healthy person. I eat a good diet, exercise and do the things you are supposed to do to stay healthy. So later that night when the surgeon called and informed us that the biopsy was positive for cancer we were floored! There are other words but none of them really fit with how I feel: surreal, in denial, confused.....
It was important for us to tell my parents and our children first. This took the entire week. I ignored phone calls and texts. We told my parents on Friday night and our kids on Saturday. Then our siblings and friends. Dear friends, Barbara and Rich Rosa went out of their way to help us get a second opinion. So Tuesday night (8 days after diagnosis and 4 days before surgery was scheduled). We met with the Chief of Hepatopancreatobiliary (I double dog dare you to pronounce that) at Sloan Kettering in NYC. He recommended that I have Chemotherapy prior to surgery in order to shrink the tumor and any microscopic cancer cells in the area and then have surgery. I was not expecting this. After I almost fell off the examining table, my husband Tom and son Patrick made it clear that this was the most logical decision.
In the mean time we have reached out to family and friends to ask them to bombard heaven with prayers - which worked, as we believe they brought us to this point. We will continue to rely upon you for prayers for the tumor to shrink, for any microscopic cancer cells to be destroyed by the chemo, for strength, healing etc.
So, was August 15 a good day for me? It all depends on how you look at it. I was in pain and it was discovered that I had cancer BUT, with your prayers, thoughts and good vibes, I will remain strong enough to fight this. I have been in a few fights in my life (let's not talk about that right now) but this will be the fight of my life. I'm depending on you to help me through as I believe that with all of your support I will win.
I will keep you posted....... a CT scan tomorrow and a Chemo consult on the 12th.
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