Major Surgery & the Road to Recovery

Write, He Said (Major Surgery & the Road to Recovery) — Encouraging Words

December 5, 2010 by carol anne Leave a Comment

Hey! Good early morning kids. I hope this morning’s post finds you all well and enjoying your Sunday.

Yesterday’s post was a me feeling sorry for myself wasn’t it? What can I say? I have my days. But as with everything else this too passes. I went this morning for my blood work then the hubs took me to Target to buy multicolored lights for the Christmas Tree and then to Talluto’s and Duffield’s to buy lunch meat and a tomato for lunch. One almost four hour nap later we ran out to Liscio’s Bakery to buy a few slices of tomato pie.

I never did get around to putting the lights on the tree. I did however read some encouraging words. My Aunt Gloria, who I think might actually be my great aunt lives in Florida and has been through quite a few health problems. She’s been sending me cards and writing me letters since I got home from the hospital. In this week’s letter, which I didn’t actually sit down and read until this evening she writes, “Believe me time heals all.” She closes with, “I sure hope you soon see the light at the end of the tunnel, believe me with time it comes. Over time I have learned to enjoy each day.”

Before I sat down to read Aunt Gloria’s letter I received a Facebook message from my cousin Alice. She writes, “Hi Carol Anne – Thinking of you. I read a bit of your blog. I don’t think any of us like to relinquish control. We come to realize that it is all an illusion anyway. When I practice giving up my will, things get alot easier. When I take it back (which I often do), everything goes haywire. This is the basis for the famous 12 step programs. I repeat to myself, “Gods will be done, not mine”. It is a daily practice. The more I practice, the more faith I muster. Praying for you and your family. One day at a time.”

Amazing how God sends what you need when you need it. I’m so grateful for everyone who has taken the time to think of me or offer me a kind or supportive word. Thank you.

Write, He Said (Major Surgery & the Road to Recovery) — Upcoming Doctors’ Appointments, Blood Tests, An MRI and Fear of the Unknown

December 4, 2010 by carol anne Leave a Comment

Hey! Good evening kids. It’s going to be a bit of this, that and the other thing tonight. It’s been a while since last we spoke. I caught a cold over Thanksgiving weekend and have been kind of miserable. I did manage to write one politically themed post but I just wasn’t up to writing about recovery this week. I’d say it was kind of nice to just have the common cold this week instead of having cancer and recovering from brain surgery but I spent most of the week monitoring my temperature making sure I didn’t spike a fever.

I spent most of Monday morning making doctor appointments and scheduling blood tests, a Cat Scan, an MRI, a flu shot and a pneumonia shot. In about ten minutes I’ll have to finish drinking my soda and fast until my scheduled 9:30am blood test appointment. I was scheduled to get the flu shot directly thereafter but since I’ve been sick all week that had to be rescheduled until next Sunday, which is the day after I’m scheduled to have both the MRI and the Cat Scan.

Hopefully I’ll be able to get my pneumonia shot on Monday. We’ll see what the doctor says. I get a break on Tuesday I have no doctor appointments scheduled. On Wednesday I head back to the plastic surgeon’s office to see if the two big scabs on my head are ready to come off *shudder*. I’m totally freaked out about this appointment.

I wonder if other people worry about upcoming medical procedures like I do. I’m so consumed with worry that in removing the scabs from my head the doctor will make me bleed. I’m on blood thinners and I’m terrified I’ll bleed heavily and end up in the hospital. I realize that she’s a medical professional and I should put my trust in her but all I can focus (fixate?) on is things going terribly wrong. (I worry in technicolor and I have an amazing imagination) The same goes for the MRI, Cat Scan, flu shot and pneumonia shot. I’m worried I’ll have some horrifying allergic reaction to the dye/vaccine and end up dead or in the ER. I know I should have faith in God and in my wonderful doctors but I can’t seem to let myself relax and put it in their hands. It’s like I blogged about earlier this year in On Flying Planes & Treating Depression. I have no control over what happens. I can’t make the scabs come off cleanly. I can’t even watch because they’re in the back of my head. I can’t control what the dyes/vaccines are going to do to my body. I don’t know how to deal with that. I like being in charge. I like controlling my circumstances. I’m afraid and I can’t do anything to fix that. I have Xanax for the MRI, which they tell me should last about half an hour but I can’t exactly go around popping Xanax every time I have to have a shot or take a pill though I very well may request a full prescription and stay on it during radiation treatments. I’m not sure I’ll be able to tough those out on my own. I can’t bring myself to worry about these in detail just yet.

Once the scabs come off and the plastic surgeon clears me for radiation the neurosurgeon and his tumor team (really, they couldn’t have come up with a better name?) will use the information from next Saturday’s MRI to plan my radiation treatment. No matter what happens I have an appointment with the neurosurgeon to check my progress and to see if the blood clot has shrunk any more on Dec. 17, which is 3 days before my 38th birthday and 8 days before Christmas. I’m hoping for all good news but I’m worried about that too. It’s not as if I can look in the mirror and see if the clot in my brain has continued to shrink. I can’t monitor whether or not the tumor is in there growing as we wait for my head to heal. The uncertainty, the inability to control any of this makes me feel powerless and out of control. I can’t do anything to make anything better. All I can do is wait and do as the doctors tell me to do, take my medicine and have faith in God and the doctors.

I wish I could tell you that I have that kind of faith but I suppose I just don’t. I believe in God, I pray, I go to church. I have faith, I do. I believe that God loves us all and that he’s there at the very darkest moments holding our hands and helping us through. I believe he doesn’t send us more than we can handle but the worry wart in me can’t get past knowing that bad things happen to good people every day and no one gets through live without suffering. I don’t want to suffer. I don’t want to be sick and I hate this being powerless to do anything but trust. I don’t want to trust. I want to do. I’m scared and I have moments when I’m overwhelmed with anxiety. I can’t be the only person who feels this way, right?

I read these blogs of people who are going through so much worse than I am and they write so eloquently about their trials and tribulations and how they’ve put their faith in God. I feel so much less faithful than they are. I feel like a coward reading these stories of people facing sickness and hardship head on. If it were up to me I’d run screaming as far away as possible. If you’re one of those people and you’re reading. How do you do it?

Write, He Said (Major Surgery & the Road to Recovery) — Photos from the Journey

November 26, 2010 by carol anne 1 Comment

Hey! Good evening kids. I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving. It’s been a few days since I’ve checked in. Since last we spoke I’ve been asked to write a blog for Cooper’s Living Proof blog, finished reading two books (Mini Shopaholic, Two for the Dough), had an appointment with the plastic surgeon (I’m doing well), and tried duck for the first time. It’s been a good 8 days. My anxiety isn’t as bad and my recovery is progressing nicely.

Today’s blog is a photographic look at my daily walk. As part of my discharge orders I was tasked with taking a daily walk. I thought a photo project would be a nice companion to the written project. This first installment features photos taken with my iPhone. As my walks get longer perhaps the photos will get more interesting.

November 10, 2010

November 11, 2010

November 18, 2010

November 19, 2010

Write, He Said (Major Surgery & the Road to Recovery) — My Amazing Family

November 18, 2010 by carol anne 2 Comments

I told you two days ago that I’d be back to tell you about my amazing family. I’m sorry I didn’t get back here yesterday. I had a morning appointment with the plastic surgeon to have the sutures removed and then spent the day at mom’s house.

This one is hard to write. How do you put into words how much you love and appreciate those closest to you? Thank you just doesn’t seem enough to express my gratitude. I woke up from surgery surrounded by everyone I love and everyone who loves me. How do you say thank you to the folks who were there as the nurses removed the breathing tube? The people who were there urging me to breathe as so that the nurses would be able to remove the tube?

I never spent one day alone in the hospital or rehab. Someone was always there with me. They came in shifts; my parents during the day, Tommy and Arlene (my brother and sister-in-law) during the dinner hour, and Chuck (my husband) after work. Sometimes my room was full of the above mentioned cast of characters.

I’m so grateful they were all there for me, but I’m even more grateful they were there for each other. In particular I’m so glad they were there for Chuck. My parents always loved him like one of their own so I’ve no doubt they took good care of him during the days I don’t remember. I’m so grateful that Tommy and Arlene sat with him and kept him company.

There’s really a week of my life that I don’t remember and it’s comforting to know that my loved ones were all there watching over me; my five guardian angels. I don’t remember the really and truly terrifying days. Chuck had to make tough and frightening decisions for me. In a way only Chuck, my parents and Tommy and Arlene suffered through them. It was much less scary for me because for all intents and purposes I slept through the worst of it. I’m glad they were all there together.

I couldn’t ask for more kind, loving, generous loved ones. It’s not just the heavy serious stuff that I’m thankful for either. It’s the seeming little things that mean so much.

Chuck spent all of Saturday at the hospital with me in Critical Care ICU. He went home, fed the cats, ate dinner, got my laptop and Netflix DVD, and drove back to the hospital to watch The American President with me. All so we could have some time alone together and so I wouldn’t be alone my first night really awake and alert in ICU.

My mom brought me German Potato Salad and carrot cake from the Cannstatter’s so that I’d have something yummy to eat.

My dad brought me soft pretzels because I asked for them. He brought enough for my nurses also.

My sister-in-law saw to it that I had all sorts of comfort items. She brought me a plush cat that sang What’s New Pussycat with a Padre Pie rosary/medal attached. I prayed that rosary or just ran my fingers over the beads whenever I felt anxious or scared. Every nurse who took care of me loved (as did I) the Halloween footies she bought me. I’m actually wearing them now. And I’m quite sure that I was the only patient at Cooper University Hospital with a lighted Tigger the Tiger Jack O’lantern.

Tommy could always be counted on to bring me a fresh bottle of Coke, which I hoarded so I’d have it all day.

Really, the stuff that doesn’t seem like much is in fact much. I hated the food in rehab. Every day my parents and Chuck brought me lunch and dinner. That’s five days worth of stopping for food, paying for food and taking the time to eat with me.

I can’t begin to say thanks. I wouldn’t know where to begin. Chuck’s taken so many days off from work to be with me so that I wouldn’t be afraid or alone (in and out of the hospital). My parents have rearranged their lives to spend time with me in the hospital, at rehab and at home. Tommy and Arlene came nightly at dinner time putting their own dinners off to spend time with me as well as calling, texting and messaging several times a day.

I am so loved and I am so grateful. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Love,

~ Carol Anne

Write, He Said (Major Surgery & the Road to Recovery) — I Share Because …

November 16, 2010 by carol anne 3 Comments

I really hope my blogs don’t come off as whiny. (not that I can’t be a whiny bitch from time to time) I’m writing to express myself and perhaps put out there that which unfortunately lives in my head. I also hope that maybe someone who’s going through similar circumstances will benefit from reading. You know you always read about these fantastic people who fight so bravely and go on with daily life as though nothing has happened. Not everybody can do that. Certainly I can’t. I have moments where I’m not sure if I’m terrified or just sad.

You see these beautiful women who’ve lost their hair to breast cancer, they’re all dressed up and have makeup on and they’re just radiant with hope and faith and gratitude. They amaze me. I get out of bed and take a shower every day because my parents are coming or because I have a doctor’s appointment but most of all because it gives me some structure to follow some sort of a schedule every day. I don’t know how they do it. I have moments when all I can think is, “I’ll never be pretty again.”

When it comes right down to it I have no right to feel sorry for myself. (pity party, party of 1 your table’s ready) I’m so fortunate to be alive. God willing the radiation will get the cancer that was not removed during surgery and I’ll go on with my life and the worst it’ll mean for me is I’ll be bald. My real hair was never really nice to begin with.

Please don’t write me off as whiny or weak. In real life I’m neither. Right now I’m feeling small, lesser, I’m afraid. I’ll work on feeling sorry for myself. I hope you’ll keep reading while I do.