Getting Up Again!

It's never going to be a good conversation when your doctor begins his consult with you by blurting out the words "I'm sorry, but you have a rare form of sinus cancer." Who knew there was sinus cancer? I didn't hear another thing he said. I knew I had to see a head and neck oncologist in Tampa. That was all I came out of the consult with. I have to call the doctor's office to find out the name of this particular affliction. Ol factory neuroblastoma.

When you get news like that things change rapidly in your world. There's so much you know you have to learn. Where do I begin to research? Who can I talk to? What does my future hold? Do I even have a future? They say knowledge is power. So I began to research and found it was indeed rare for an adult to be found with this form of cancer. The good news was that because there was an early diagnoses, survival chances where greatly increased. There was a place I came to where I had to stop looking at the disease and focus on not only surviving by overcoming. The consult with the head and neck doctor left me shaken the the prospect of what may have to happen during surgery. Then the tests and evaluations. The endless x rays, questions and arrangements for long distance treatment. There was also learning the culture of cancer. So much so fast.

The more dreadful side of the battle was finding a way to tell friends and family what we were facing. Shock, fear and tears were most often the response. Awkward for everyone. You can see many searching for something healing to say. Encouragement comes from many but not much hope. After all cancer usually doesn't play fair. Most people end up withdrawing after a while, not knowing what to say or do. There are a few that came to take care of some practical things and truly helped by doing some simple things like cut the grass and such. What a blessing!

Then the awful regrets begin to raise their ugly heads. The if only I had done this or said that. I should have spent more time here for with my children, my wife, my God. Fear, sorrow, confusion come to set up house with you. People begin to look at you differently. They talk in different tones and their pity becomes distasteful. Surrounded now only by a select few the next phase is getting ready for the surgery.

Its at times like this you find out what you really believe. Your mortality looking back at you. I've come to far to let go now. I put my life in His hands and choose to believe in His goodness.

Now we look at those things we had put on the back burner. Sitting down with our attorney to be sure the will is in order. Finding the life insurance policies, long term disability all those things we did "just in case." Now we were glad we did. It all begins to become surreal now. This is not supposed ti be happening to me. This crap is for old people.

The description of what was going to have to happen was the thing in which science fiction is birthed. Your going to remove my nose and put it back!?! Remove the sinus wall and drainage tube and what ever else the tumor has effected in the sinus passage. I won't mention what she said she would need to do with my skull. Early detection made the latter unnecessary.

All the preparation well under way. Now the time has come for the operation. We traveled the two hours the night before to Tampa and stay in a hotel near the hospital. I didn't know it then but from that night on my life has never been the same. Sleeping in a room unfamiliar to me was only the beginning. Restless most of the night, waiting for our daughters to join us there. Sleep just teased me some until it was time to shower and get ready to go. My shaved my beard and mustache off. They had long been my identity. Wow I hadn't seen that face in a long time. The beard really helps.

The girls said they would meet us at the hospital. I wonder what I should say to them before the surgery. Just wanted them to know how much I loved them and how proud I am to be their dad.

It was a quiet ride to the hospital. Early morning in April. We checked in and it wasn't any time at all I was whisked off to be prepped from the main event. Wearing that shameless garment you have to wear. Mooning people left and right for a little comic relief. Then to the staging area like livestock. I could hear several others waiting nervously before going under "the knife."

I wasn't able to speak to the girls, they got lost on their way. My heart was broken I couldn't talk to them before. The what ifs have now begun. The ultimate what if is now come to the forefront. What if I don't make it through the surgery? I hoped they knew I how I felt about them. Opportunity lost. I resolved not to let that happen again.

I had to shake that off and focus on coming through this to recovery. Light conversation with my wife. Positive reinforcement that we will get through this. Words of love never have flowed freely from me. The look and a gentle smile. She knows by now. Three squeezes on her hand. I love you.

Then the per op shot and I begin to drift a little. I at least remembered to say goodbye to my wife before being rolled down the hallway to a cold operating room. I began to pray and listened as those in the room were talking about their weekend plans. I closed my eyes and talk to God. Then without knowing it I was out.

I came to in a hospital room. The surgery went well but took a little longer than expected. My face was swollen. I didn't have any felling on the left side of my face. But I was still here and still had a fighting chance. Wires and masks and tube stuck were I didn't want them. My wife was there. All the friends and family that had come earlier were now gone. Back to just us.

Two days in the hospital and released. Time to heal a little before we decide what the next steps are. Things are not the same. But I am grateful to be alive and have the chance to be here a while longer. You learn to adjust and adapt to the changes. You just can't lay there you have to get up again.

We'll look at phase two shortly.