As mentioned before, I am an Oncology
Nurse. I love my job because even the
smallest gestures can make a world of difference. Also, I get to know some of
the most amazing people along the way, who have taught me so much about
life. One thing I’ve learned in my five
years as an Oncology Nurse is that cancer has no rhyme or reason. One of my
patients, who passed away, used to tell me “I never ask God ‘Why me?’ I just
think, why not me? What makes me so special that I shouldn’t get cancer, but
someone else should?” This makes perfect
sense, because cancer does not care if you are old, young, busy, stressed,
healthy, unhealthy, male, female, smoker, or non-smoker. Anyone can get
cancer…and I did.
The phone call to my boss was a
surreal event, and I fought back the tears as I told her my situation. She quickly responded, “Do you want to come
here to see the doctor? Do you want me to tell anyone?” The answer to both
questions would be yes, because as awkward and hard as it would be, I did not
trust my care in anyone else’s hands. I happen to be very blessed to have such
wonderful and caring co-workers, and I know they devote so much of themselves
to their profession. I knew I was where I needed to be, but I was still so nervous
to walk in the front door. That nervousness would quickly fade because I felt
so comfortable with everyone who works at Siteman West County.
So here I was, four days after
being diagnosed, finding myself seeing my surgeon at the very place I
worked. As I was being taken back to see
Dr. Mutch, I passed by the regular exam rooms, and I realized we were being
taken into procedure room. Anywhere but this room… I never wanted to even look
into or pass by this room because it was where the surgeons performed their
examinations. To make things worse, it took what seemed like an hour before Dr.
Mutch finally made his appearance. He finally came in and quickly me two
options: either take out my entire colon, or remove the area around the
tumor. I could not understand why there
would even be an option, but he seemed to want to make sure I knew that the
second option meant colonoscopies every year or two for the rest of my life.
Hooray for me. Of course I chose to have
the tumor and surrounding area removed. He
then told me he wanted to see if he could visualize the tumor…the colorectal
surgeon wanted to ‘examine’ me. The
tiniest shred of dignity that I had left was gone. Nothing about having colon cancer was
glamorous. In fact most of it was downright embarrassing, but I agreed and
reminded myself that I needed to do whatever it took. After he obtained all of
the info he needed, we agreed to surgery in a little over two weeks (as he had
no other openings). I just knew that
wait would be agonizing. However, as
Phil and I pulled out of the parking lot my cell phone rang, “Dr. Mutch has an
opening for surgery tomorrow morning; would you like to take it?” My whole body
began to shake as I made the decision to have surgery in less than 24 hours. This
had to be some sort of divine intervention.
For the next hour or two, I entered
into complete shock. I have never had
surgery, and the closest I ever came to it was having my wisdom teeth
removed. Phil and I ran into the grocery
store and quickly grabbed the medications for the preparation that I was
supposed to have started three hours ago.
My mind began to spin, and I did not feel ready for this. However, ready or not, surgery was quickly
approaching, and I needed to face it. I
went home and took the medications, which are basically an extreme version of
the colonoscopy prep…again, hooray for me.
In between drinking cups of Gatorade and packing, I found myself holding
my kids. It would be a while before I would get to see them, and, little did I
know, it would be even longer before I would get to pick them up. Again, more tears. We quickly informed everyone of our decision,
and they would ask if there was anything they could do. The answer was always
the same…they could pray. This was now a
request we were actively sending out to anyone we talked to because prayer was
the biggest gift anyone could give us.
The morning of surgery I sat in bed
until the last possible minute, got ready, walked into Jackson and Lydia’s room
and kissed them goodbye while they slept. They looked like angels, and it took
all my strength to leave that room. Melissa
met us at the house and followed us to the hospital in the snow. We got there a little after 7 in the morning
and began to wait patiently. Being the kind and sweet people they are, Phil and
Melissa poked fun at me for my frequent bathroom visits (dumb prep, I was so
tired of seeing the bathroom). However,
it was so wonderful to have them there, my husband walking with me through it
all, and my best friend giving me much needed support and laughter. After about two hours of waiting, my pager
went off; it was now too late to run out the front door. After I was placed in the holding area, my
family members swapped out one at a time to visit as the nurse prepped me for
surgery. I believe it was around 10:30
when the anesthesiologist came in with medication to help me relax. It literally took seconds for me to mutter
“The room is spinning,” and apparently after this, I sat up there and visited
for two hours before they took me into the operating room. I have no recollection of anything after this
medication, but Phil says I gave him a less than sentimental and pathetic
goodbye. Instead of teary-eyed goodbyes, I can just picture myself yelling “See
ya later!” as they wheeled me away. The last real thing I remember before going
under was the operating room staff asking how I was, giving them some snide
remark like “I’m here aren’t I?” and then fading away to complete sleep.
Before surgery, various people told
me that not only did I have my friends and family praying, but churches, convents,
prayer groups, and strangers as well.
When I was in the holding area, I remember Melissa saying something to
the effect of “I can literally feel the prayers surrounding you right now.” She
was right. I cannot explain it, but you could just ‘feel’ everyone’s prayers
all around me. It was such a humbling
experience to know how many people were taking time to pray for my wellbeing.
Our prayers that day would be answered as the surgery went “as expected, with
no surprises” according to Dr. Mutch. God
was showing up for me in so many ways, and I was beginning to realize how
absent He had been in my life. I continued to follow the dim Light on my
uncertain path. No matter where it was
leading me, it was my path and I wanted it to be lit by God.
Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight. –Proverbs 3:5-6
No comments:
Post a Comment