The Blessings of Give & Take

March 22, 2011: I wake up early to get Janessa ready for school. I decide that I'm better at writing about this ordeal in the morning...nighttime is harder (though that's when I'm writing this post). I was actually able to sleep on my left side last night, which is my favorite sleeping position; and though the incision felt taut and stretched at times, I think just knowing I could do it made me happy. The right side of my head is starting to "wake up" and I feel pressure and a dull ache. At least it's not a sharp pain. It's nothing I can't stand. Miracle of miracles. I eat oatmeal for breakfast. It's soft, easy to chew, and is giving me some much needed fiber. Mom helps me into the shower again. We're a great tag team, though she gets more than her share of splashing and "flashing" of flesh. I'm really getting dressed today - not just lounge wear - and I decide I want to use the blow dryer on my hair. The flat-to-the-head look is wearing thin - I feel like an old lady. I'm so thankful I can use my right arm normally because that was one of the nerves and muscles Dr. Bradley was worried about damaging in the surgery. Another miracle. We head to the Salt Lake Clinic for our 11:00 AM appointment. Mom tries out the brand-new valet parking - what a breeze! Lindsey arrives soon after I check in. We eat Jolly Rancher jelly beans and giggle.
I am called into an exam room. It's a tiny room, but Dr. Bradley brings in another stool for Linds. He jokes about looking for the staple remover - we joke they may have to run to Home Depot for another one. The actual device is ingenious. Who thinks up these things? Someone who had a horrible experience getting the staples removed? Since my upper neck and the wound around my ear is still numb, I don't feel a thing - no pinch or sting as Dr. B warns. The rest is not painful either - just a little tug and one more is gone. I feel so relieved. (I had taken half a pain pill for insurance sake.) As he works on the railroad track of my incisions, Dr. B explains updates and new details.
He says that of the lymph nodes that were removed, seven tested positive for cancer. The remaining 37-40 nodes tested negative - no cancer. I must look stunned. How many nodes are there in the neck? More than that, I like those odds. A lot.
He says that the gland he removed also tested positive for a malignant tumor, so we're grateful for the decision to remove it. He sent it in two pieces to the lab and one test showed it had "outlying" cancer cells. Dr. B is positive that this result related to the gland being cut in half and still feels that he got it all. However, in his no-nonsense way, he says, "But if a tumor should grow there again, we'll remove it."
He explains that he consults with a Tumor Board every few weeks and will do so again tomorrow. He says he'll bring up my case and give them all the information related to my particular melanoma. At that point, they will consider options and treatments and confer one with one another. If the Board feels that I would benefit from radiation treatments, he will let me know. Otherwise, my next course of action is to meet with Dr. Robert Andtbacka at the Huntsman Cancer Center and get an evaluation from him. From there, I could be introduced into a trial or study.
I tell Dr. B that my ear is completely numb. He calmly tells me that the earlobe will be permanently "dead" - that was one of the nerves they had to sever during the surgery. I joke that it's a shame I'm not one to wear 100 pierced earrings in one ear - this would be the time to do it. He's pretty sure the top part of my ear will "wake up", but if I have to have one part of my body paralyzed, I'd choose the earlobe any day. He thinks my lip nerve will also repair itself (my bottom lip has lost its "depressor" - like a tongue depressor, this nerve helps your bottom lip move down over your teeth to make it easier to talk or eat, and mine is now damaged) sometime in the next three months. But, already in the past five days, it has come back a bit and seems to improve each day.
Linds asks the hard questions about melanoma - why it seems to be immune to chemo or radiation, why I will always and forevermore be listed at Stage 3C, why we will never know what may be lurking in those microscopic hiding places, why chances for survival have not improved with this battle but will statistically the longer I fight, and why oh why isn't cancer more picky? All I can think is what dear Elder Neal A. Maxwell said about his own fight with cancer: "I never thought to say, Why me? - but always said, Why not me?"
The last thing we talked to Dr. B about was the new baby coming any day now to our family. His response was, "Oh, great! Well, you are free to go any time." I felt such relief and strength in those few words of comfort.
This may have been a day of "removal", but it was also a day of information. I heard hard-to-swallow news, but I also heard healing. I heard scary news, but I also heard hope. I heard what I didn't really want to hear, but I also heard words like "fighter", "do", "act", "ongoing", "miracles", and "support". I heard "love". I heard "thank you". I heard "help".
Tonight, I feel less like Frankenstein and more like a cancer fighter. I have survived this first bout. I am healing. My body is amazing. My Lord is awesome. I feel extremely blessed to be going to bed with food in my belly, a warm blanket around me, my sweetheart next to me, in a house on stable ground in a safe & loving neighborhood in a free, democratic country in a world full of people who generally love one another and pray for each other. Thank you, God. Bless those who mourn, those who hurt, those who hate, and those who need Thy Spirit in their lives. We all need Thee, every hour.