What to say when you have nothing to say . . .
Just when I think I have hit bottom, I go and do something stupid like have surgery. Now I really feel like . . . something unmentionable. Well, okay, I don't really feel all that bad physically, but I feel worse than before the surgery. I think I am also sort of funked out.
Here is what I thought: I thought that the tumor was cylindrical in nature, so 2 dimensions came to a pineapple shape.
Here is what was: The tumor was more like an old fashion diaper - not much thickness, but not quite 2 dimentional. More like a layer of mold on a container of yogurt.
Here is another thing I thought: That, possibly (hope springs eternal), Whatever was growing on my ovary might a) not be cancerous . . . after all, women get those things all the time! Maybe it was just my time. (Yeah, right. What was I smoking?) or b) was an isolated return and when we removed it, it would be a set back for the cancer. The cancer would have to start all over again.
Here is what was: Yes, of course the tumor was the cancerous. Yes, of course it was the pancreatic cancer. What else could it have been? And, no, it is not an isolated return. It was the biggest return. There are other spots. I know where two of them are, when I talk to the dr next week, I'll find out more. I know I have one on my diaphram and one on my sigmoid colon. I suspect that if I have them that far apart, I have more in between.
And another thing I hoped for: I hoped that after the surgery, I would bounce back. I mean, after that first monster surgery, this would be a cake walk, right? Well, yes and no. I mean it really is no compairison to the first one, but it is still surgery and I don't feel terrific. I know, it has been less than a week. Aren't I being a bit hard on myself? Yes, I am. I also am wasting precious and scarce sick leave recovering from a surgery that didn't really do what I had hoped. It won't leave me much time to die. I'd better start making a list. (Inside humor)
What I am afraid might be the case: (and I have nothing but my awake-at-3-am times to base this on) That I have spent my precious health on a surgery that is going to start me on my downward spiral, hastening the process instead of delaying it. Let us hope I am wrong.
Comments
What the doctor said was that there is evidence of disease in those areas...whic to me is a rather ambiguous term. So When I asked for more clarification he compared it to the wrinkles on my pants...that you wouldn't cut up the fabric over wrinkles. I think that means that there is not, in fact, any actual tumors, but rather evidence that they are forming. I'm not sure that that's any better news. But it is what I was told and that is my interpretation of the information.
Posted by: r.t.bean | June 18, 2007 10:50 PM
Well, my understanding of the situation is that it is sort of like the mold that is in blue cheese. So to say there isn't a Tumor, in that the understanding of a tumor is a distinct entity, is correct. But if I were a loaf of bread or a non-moldy style cheese, I'd be too far gone to rescue. We'll see what the doctor has to say. Remember, my surgeon is a gyn oncologist, so does not specialize in pancreatic cancer. I still need to find a new oncologist. Boy, will he not welcome me as a new patient.
Posted by: ma | June 19, 2007 5:03 PM
And I am feeling better than I did yesterday. A friend of mine convinced me that taking my pain medication really was a good idea. And certain things which hadn't worked are now working (ahem) so I am feeling much better. It is much easier to feel optimistic and generally happy when you don't feel crummy.
Posted by: Ma | June 19, 2007 5:14 PM
Hey, Maman!
I'm glad you feel some better. I love you bunches and bunches; I love you this much:
You're not a loaf of bread. You're a human being, with an immune system that is very, very clever - governed by a mind that is very, very clever.
I'll talk to you more about this when I get there, but you still have cards in your hand.
Lots of love and smiles and happiness and kisses - Nae
Posted by: Nae | June 20, 2007 10:08 AM
I am glad you are feeling better. My family let me know when you were having surgery and I have kept you in my prayers.
I am personally hoping you are like a good hard parmesean. You can just scrape off that outer layer and the rest is all good. I've always thought you more of a hard cheese than a yogurt type anyhow.
Posted by: Valerie | June 20, 2007 10:22 PM
Dear one,
you are like sweet poetry in the air. you are like profound Russian thoughts. you are like mother earth.
i hope that i can write in your yearbook in the Abha Kingdom. I want to sing bawdy songs and drink odouls when we next meet.
think of what day you want a visitor and call me or anyone who you need a dose of anne of columbus and worthington area
Posted by: Anne Groovey Grove | June 25, 2007 10:54 PM
I stumbled across your blog. I was feeling pretty crummy until I read it. My thoughts are with you!
Posted by: John Landon (y Baca) 78 years old | October 9, 2007 6:55 PM