Big C, Take 2 – Cancer Round 2

The Cancer Operation

Stops Four and Five

After the Big C diagnosis, I moved into the no man’s land where time is not your own.  It’s like being a child again and having mom and dad scheduling your day.  The difference is you’re not being scheduled for fun stuff.

Stop 4 – The Operation

Finally I received the call with a date for my operation.  It would be April 4^th, 2011.

Thanks to Agent R and some stringent diet, I’d dropped 25 pounds and was ready.

After a restless night, I got up way too early and went downstairs.  The world was quiet.  It was a lovely, warm April morning.

The wasband drove me the short distance to the hospital but I don’t remember saying much.  He pulled up to the hospital door.  I said goodbye and closed the car door behind me.  Like the first time I had to go in for a cancer operation, I felt very alone.

All Alone

I checked into the registration desk and was handed a pile of forms to fill out.  Then I sat and waited.  My names was called and I was escorted to a bed and handed a pile of garments, then instructed on how to put on said garments.  Stylish they were not.

My home for the duration of the day was going to be a bed in the day surgery area on a wide open floor.

Two thin curtains were all that separated me from the general public.  After drawing the curtains, I changed into my surgery gear and sat on the bed, packing my private belongings into a plastic bag with my name on it.  Odd but the few things I had with me seemed so precious, a reminder of my “ordinary” life before the cancer turmoil.  The tears began streaming down my face.

Interviews

After a while, Dr. S came by and discussed the operation.  She discussed the incision, what and how much would be cut, testing of the sample, how long it would take.  I said, “I know this sounds silly but, if possible, can you try to keep my breast looking as nice as possible?  The last doctor messed up my cute bellybutton badly during the last operation.  I’d like for my body not to look too much like Frankenstein’s.”  Dr. S smiled and said, “We always try our best.  I understand completely.”  “I see we didn’t get an MRI, so we’ll just have to make do with the CAT scan,” Dr. S commented.  “Have you ever had an MRI?” I inquired.  “Well, no,” she said.  I described my experience using “coffin” and “torpedo tube”.  “Whoa, I don’t think I could do that either,” she said.

The anesthetist came by and asked a bunch of questions.  He commented that because of my weight, he’d have to give me a bigger dose of anesthesia which meant it would take longer for me to come out from under.  “Instead of a gradual effect, it will be a bit more of a jolt awake,” he said.  Great.

Stop 5 – Post Op

After the operation, I woke and had a hard time swallowing.  The breathing tube was still up my nose and down my throat.  It felt like I was choking.  After the tube was removed, a nurse gave me some ice to suck on.  I was finally able to swallow.

I didn’t dare look at my breast.

I was wheeled back into the day surgery area and the orderly asked me if I wanted my curtains drawn.  “No,” I said.  I didn’t want to be alone.

The Sister

I woke a while later because the woman next to me was shouting, “Stay away from me!  Get away from me!”  I looked up and saw that she was yelling at a nun who was making the rounds. The hospital had been founded by nuns but it never occurred to me that they were still there.

The nun took the woman’s anger in stride and glanced over at me to see if I was receptive to having a chat.  Why not?  She offered me a blessing and then asked how I felt about God.  “He’s let me down a number of times so I don’t really care for him at the moment,” I said.  She nodded and offered a few philosophical thoughts for me to ponder.

End of Phase 1

It finally came time for me to get out.  I changed out of my surgery garb, pulled my clothes out of my baggie and got dressed.

As I stepped out into the warm April sunshine to wait for wasband I was struck with infinite joy.  It started within me and then filled my being with a glorious, wondrous light that then enveloped me.  The burdens of all my life were lifted away and for a moment I felt incredibly happy and free.  In that moment I knew I was going to be okay.

Maybe God hadn’t forgotten me after all.

 

Next:  Big C Cooking Lessons

 

Here’s a Globe and Mail article on the over treatment of stage 0 breast cancer