Wednesday, September 11, 2019

The First Day of the Rest of My Life – Breaking News – September 11, 2019 – Day 11

Who would ever know the greater graces of comfort and perseverance, mercy and forgiveness, patience and courage, if no shadows fell over life? - Ann Voskamp

A thought for you to ponder. Believe me, this is something I've thought about since August 18th when I got up from my bed and passed out instantly. The next thing I remember was being on the floor when I opened my eyes and Carolyn and her grandson, who was visiting that particular day and is a trained, professional EMT, were lifting me back up and onto the bed. Shortly thereafter the local EMTs arrived, stabilized me, put me in an ambulance and I was on my way to the local hospital Emergency Room.

Was it a life-changing experience. You bet it was. My life changed instantly and forever into the future. It was the first time I had passed out, been attended to by EMTs, ridden in an ambulance with the siren blasting away, been treated in an Emergency Room, had CT Scans. It was a really big day of firsts. But, here's the thing, I had absolutely no idea why this was happening to me or what was wrong with me. I've always been a pretty healthy person for most of the 74 years of my life.

I was in a huge shadow that had fallen over my life. All of a sudden I needed comfort and perseverance, mercy and forgiveness, patience and, especially, courage. For all practical intents and purposes, I lost control of ME and I was at the mercy of the unknown, the shadow. I've experienced a lot since August 18th and I'll fill in all the gaps in a future article. 

I started this series on September 1, 2019 because that, in my estimation was the day I began taking control over ME again and realizing I was at the beginning of a new adventure. I wanted to relate my experiences on this “Mr. Toad's Wild Ride” (for those who know that ride from Disney World), to inform, educate, inspire and encourage any and all who read this.

Today, after Carolyn drove me over the 7 mountains and through the 7 valleys, the 70 miles each way to the Winchester Medical Center in Virginia, we arrived, a little early to the Cancer Center for my first chemotherapy treatment. I was, of course, somewhat anxious and apprehensive. I had been the caregiver of my significant other, at that time, literally 20 years ago. So, I was somewhat familiar with what was going to happen. However, I was not on the receiving end back then.

First, I had a short wait to have laboratory tests (blood work). That process completed, I was sent back to the treatment area to meet Rebecca, a nurse who would check me in, check my vital signs and then find me an empty treatment chair in this large facility that could treat tens of people at one time. I was told that well over 100 patients would be treated in this room by the end of the day.

Suzie was my nurse. She was friendly, efficient, informative, informal, had a sense of humor, a positive attitude and knew exactly what she was doing. There were four other people in my little “quad” grouping of chairs. Each was there with a different reason for being there and a different story. Only one of the three was in any distress and that didn't seem to be caused by the chemo treatment. It was something else. But, the team, and I mean team of professionals, came to her aid and took care to make her comfortable and relieve her situation. It was very impressive, indeed.

Meanwhile, Suzie connected an IV line to the port that was installed under the skin of my chest and mainlined directly into a major vein or artery. This eliminated sticking an IV needle into my arm every time I would come for another treatment. I convenience for them and for me. She then told me, step by step, each thing that would be infused in my bloodstream beginning with a saline solution. Next came an anti-nausea medicine. Then some more saline, before infusing some steroids. Saline was next, again. Then she brought the two IV bags that had been specifically mixed for me with the cancer-fighting drugs designed to reduce (in conjunction with the radiation treatments that have not started, yet) the size and ultimately destroy this unwanted stranger in my body.

While Suzie was taking care of me and several other patients in her efficient and capable way, this was my view from my treatment chair. I almost felt like I was on one of my continental treks at some beautiful natural setting. True, I could see some hospital building in the background, but it was still a peaceful bucolic setting. 

And, as I sat that I came to an interesting and somewhat startling realization. Years ago, probably 15 years, I used to park my car precisely where I was now sitting in my treatment chair. This building didn't exist then. And, there is a trail that surrounds a very large pond I could see glimpses of looking through the trees. It was just about a mile around the pond. I walked that trail several days a week for exercise. Now, that same pond is providing me with a sense of peace, relaxation and good karma as I'm experiencing this new adventure.

There are patios, sitting areas, beautiful garden areas, trellises. It truly has been turned into a special area to help people be as at ease as possible while undergoing treatment. There is a refrigerator in the treatment room with soft drinks and juice. There are coffee and tea. There are a variety of snacks. All complementary. Restrooms are conveniently located and it is very simple to disconnect the IV infuser from its power source (it goes on battery power) to use the restrooms or avail yourself of the treats available.

My treatment went well. I had no problem tolerating any of the infusions. I felt no pain or dizziness. There was no metallic taste to anything, as I was told I might experience (however, that may come later). And, I was told to expect to be there for five to six hours for this first treatment and probably four hours for later succeeding treatments. Well, including the checking in and the lab work, about a half-hour, everything was completed in just about four hours. And, I felt fine when I was disconnected and left the Cancer Treatment Center.

Now, for the Breaking News . . . While I was undergoing the treatment, Rodney Huff, my oncologist's right-hand man, a nurse practitioner with a long line of other certifications, and the staff person who gave Carolyn and me the very comprehensive, education and orientation session last week, came by to see me. He had a big smile on his face and delivered this news. He had seen and reviewed my PET Scan from yesterday. There is no indication that the gastric cancer has spread to any other parts of my body. In other words. This remains a Stage III very treatable and curable cancer and my prognosis is better than they originally speculated.

Carolyn and I fist-bumped each other and with Rodney. And, the other people around us were as overjoyed with this news as I was. So, that shadow that covered over me, beginning on August 18th now has an end in sight. I know that I'm back on my 46-year life plan and am moving forward with various projects and ideas with a renewed motivation. I knew there was a reason I hadn't died previously during my travels or even the twice, once on August 18th and again on August 21st, when my vital signs indicated that I quite probably could be dead or dying. Life is good.

Carolyn and I left the Cancer Center and drove over to the Costco again to pick up a few other things – and I said, I'm hungry and I want a slice of Costco Pizza (not my favorite, but convenient). So, I indulged. Then we shared a Very Berry Yogurt Sunday before leaving Costco. Another quick stop at the Wellspring Cancer Support Center in Winchester where I picked up a very useful free bag of items to assist me on my adventure. I'll talk about Wellspring again, perhaps, tomorrow.

We left Winchester at about 4:00 PM on our way through rush hour traffic to make our way back over the 7 mountains and valleys arriving at Carolyn's place about 5:50 PM. We spent the rest of the evening feeling very good about the day, the positive chemotherapy experience, the very positive good news about the results of the PET Scan and, in general, how blessed we are in this life, despite our adversities.

It's now about 12:30 AM Thursday morning as I wrap up this 11th article about the new adventure. I'm still feeling fine and not having any negative impact, so far, from the treatment today. But, I've learned to never say never. This is unexplored territory for me. I trust it will go on like I feel right now, but I'm fully expecting there to be some rough patches in this road ahead. I'll keep you posted. As soon as I format this article and post it, I'm heading to bed. I have the next four days off from any kind of treatments so I can get back on a number of other pressing life issues.

And, as always, live free and be happy. EH

3 comments:

John Abert said...

That's great news! You are on a positive roll, so keep on keepin' on!

Her Royal Wildness, Lois said...

Good news, Ed! Rock on!

humpy57 said...

That's great news !
"The difference between an ordeal and an adventure is attitude "
Keep the positive attitude.