I’m trying to find the words to describe how awful yesterday was…Dad is devestated, we’re all in shock…
First, the good news: When they got in there, they saw what they were dealing with, and the surgeon considered stopping the operation. He didn’t. He did not give up hope on Mom; that’s about the best news I can hold onto right now.
The facts of it: She had a tumor invading the right lobe of her liver, her diaphragm, and the bottom of her right lung. They did an initial analysis on the lymph nodes in her chest and they came back clear, so they went forward, removing 40% of her liver, 20% of that lung, and removing/reconstructing her diaphragm. The surgery took 6 hours, and involved 3 surgeons. They considered stopping the surgery several times, but didn’t.
She recovered from the surgery amazingly well–the doctor said there wasn’t very much bleeding, and she was able to breathe on her own immediately in recovery. They placed an epidural prior to the surgery (anticipating how major this might be) and so she felt no pain below her chest last night–she was rather lucid and talkative immediately (on a reconstructed diaphragm, no less!) and was even joking.
The one thing I regret the most (and I’ll deal with this at some point) was this exchange:
Mom: “Did they get it?”
Us: “Yes”
Mom: “What was it?”
us: “A tumor”
Mom: “But I’m okay now?”
Us: “Absolutely.”
* * *
Mom, please forgive us for that. You’d been through so much, and you needed some good news. We all love you, and we wanted you to understand the surgery hadn’t been for nothing–the surgeon said he “got everything that was there”, and you did fabulously through the surgery. You’re tough, and we didn’t want to burden you with that immediately after waking up.
* * *
As for me…I’m numb. I’m angry, because I’ve got to believe somebody SOMEWHERE knew this was happening to her. You don’t go from healthy to “advanced cancer” in 3 mos (or maybe you do…I don’t know). I’m sad because I fear losing my mom, I fear my daughter never knowing this awesome, strong woman who is her grandmother.
But, she’s alive right now, and she’s at herself, and they’ve removed the thing that was causing her pain. God bless you all out there who’ve been praying for my mother, Dottie. Kiss your mom the next time you see her, and give your kids an extra tight squeeze.
You just don’t know what’s around the corner.