The Journey Continues

Tuesday, July 26 thru Friday, July 29

I wish I could tell you that upon awaking in Good Sam I felt better and started improving. It was quite the opposite. In fact, it was almost like I didn't have to try to act "normal" anymore and I gave up trying. Anyone who knows me, knows that the word submissive is not in my vocabulary; but, if someone had opened a window and told me to jump out, I probably would have. That should give you some idea of the affect the tumor had on my personality.

The first order of business for the doctors was to see if they could get the swelling down on my brain. They started me on decadron, a steroid. To keep me from going into seizures, they started me on dilantin. That takes care of my brain for now.

The next thing was to see if they could figure out what was going on in the lung. They kept calling it a "lesion." Sometime during the first day they took a biopsy. Now, for a person who HATES needles, you would think that I would remember this. That needle would have to be pretty darn long to go from my shoulder into the lung, but I blessedly don't remember a thing.

Luanne came to see me in the hospital every day. One day, before the medicine kicked in, she brought an old friend that I used to work with, Chris. Luanne acted as interpreter. When Chris would ask me a question, I looked at Luanne and said, "Tell her." Thank goodness I had someone who knows me so well. Tina came to see me also. By that time, I was able to talk a little better. It's funny that I am able to remember everyone who came to see me but I hardly remember the nurses, doctors, or the procedures.

Now, I don't know what took so long with the lung thing. They took two CAT scans, three chest x-rays and a biopsy. You would think we would have a verdict by Thursday.

Friday, things started to pick up. Neurosurgeons, pulmonary specialists and oncologists paraded in and out of my room. I listened to what they had to say, which consisted of me sitting up in bed smiling. I listened but didn't comprehend. Larry and Jeff were my eyes, ears, brain and mouth. Basically, here is what they had to say. I had lung cancer which had spread to the brain. It was inoperable. They would start radiation and chemotherapy. The radiation to my brain would leave me with dementia after about six months and if I made it to 1 year I would pretty much be a vegetable.

Now, I want to emphasize. Either of these tumors, in and of itself (although serious), would be a Stage 1. In other words, they were fairly small, no lymph nodes had been involved and probably would have been operable. But because the lung cancer had spread to the brain, it was now a Stage 4 and this is the protocol for Stage 4 cancer.

Again, thank God for Larry. He took each doctor in turn out to the hallway and asked them this question: "If this was your wife, what would you do?" Two of them said, "I would take her to Barrows Neurological Institute." They felt that if anyone could remove the brain tumor, they could. This wasn't exactly for a cure, but for a better quality of life.

Larry asked for me to be discharged and for copies of my medical records.

Lesson 2: Doctors aren't Gods. Question what they have to say.