At the end of February, I was sick. Terrible stomach cramps, vomiting to the point of dehydration. Fred and I had tickets to Oysterfest and I was thinking I would meet up with him later, nope. By the time he got home I was deciding between urgent care or going to the ER. I let him sleep and when he woke up the next morning I had decided ER.
I was given some fluids in the ER, and they did a CT scan. There was a spot on my colon, but the doctor assumed it was inflamed because I was sick. I was recommended a surgeon, but more of an "eh, if you get around to it". My symptoms continued, so we made an appointment.
By the time we got to the surgeon, I just knew it was endometriosis related. From my last surgery, I know my uterus is stuck to my intestines. It had to be that it entered my intestines/colon. Even given family history my surgeon (Dr. E) kept assuring me it probably wasn't cancer. I was admitted to the hospital for a colonoscopy.
Fast forward. I had a bowel obstruction & was wheeled into surgery.
I awoke to a body that felt like a bomb had gone off. Eighteen inch vertical abdominal incision, 34 staples, and a temporary ostomy to boot. Yeah, the poop bag. Later on I would be grateful for my tummy gremlin (stoma), but in the beginning I truly hated my body.
I was alone when I was given the cancer diagnosis. And that was the day I learned how much of a mental game I had ahead. That day I fell apart. It was student nurse day. I was breaking mentally, and my body reacted physically. The nurse & student nurse didn't notice. The patient care tech took one look and knew I needed to relax. She gave me my first bed bath, and helped me calm myself. I'll be forever grateful for her care.
My brother and Fred arrived at the same time. How do you tell your husband we're about to start another cancer journey? Again?! So soon after we had lost my dad, to the same damn cancer? I whispered it to my brother first, and I guess that gave me enough strength to speak it into existence. Stage III Colon Cancer, possible spot on the liver.
Recovering from surgery, cancer diagnosis, and having to learn how to manage this new body was impossible. Fred jumped in and learned everything. From helping the ostomy nurse, to sponge baths, to distracting me so I could push through the next pain med, Fred became my saving grace. At one point he was helping me shower and wash my hair, and I look down at myself naked, body ripped apart, belching like a man and just start laughing. I tell him I've never felt sexier. The truth is I have never felt more loved. This man is truly my super hero.
We quickly learned I was given the worst care when I didn't have someone sitting with me, so Fred started lining up "babysitters". Friends that would stay with me, and give him time off to take care of our house, rest and wrap his head around what was happening. Friends that held my hand, rubbed my feet, and helped me feel human. I even had friends jump in and help the ostomy nurse. I have some GREAT friends, and words don't exist to express my gratitude.
My hospital room smelled like a floral shop!
I was released from the hospital after 6 days, and I spent the next month recovering. Based on how easy it was to get up and walk after surgery I expected an easy recovery, it wasn't.
