Sittin On A Porch

Sittin On A Porch
Our little back porch

Monday, November 8, 2010

Another new doctor

Where did they find all of these adorable doctors?  We met the surgeon today.  Yes, he is another gorgeous, adorable man.  And he had the cutest medical student with him.  I gave a plug to Jessie, but honestly, she is involved with Virgil right now, and this guy lives north of Thomasville, so again, he is not a local guy, so that will not do.  It is just that Jessie is so adorable and I can't imagine life here if she leaves.  And I have only known this special young woman for a few years.  Don't misunderstand, she has 3 siblings whom I adore also, not to mention baby Owen.  They are all very special people and I am so grateful to know them and Mr and Ms Moon.  They have welcomed me into their family, and I feel so fortunate for that.  

But I was talking about the new doctor, Dr. Cascone.  He is very personable and focused.  He tried to feel the lymph node and could not feel it, and then made a comment if he could not determine which node it was he would have to take all of them on my left side.  I quickly explained that he would be able to see which one from the PTScan.  He and the medical student left and when they came back, the doctor felt comfortable that he knew which one, and would not have to take more then that one.  Whew!!!!  remember I watched that PBS special on cancer, they did a story on a woman who had all of the lymph nodes removed from one side and she had to wear this horrid elastic sleeve.  I mean if there was a question about the lymph nodes I would have no problem with them removing them all.  If I had to wear the sleeve, I would gladly accept that.  But since the PTscan clearly shows that only one node is affected, why remove more then we need?  The doc seemed to be of the same mind set.

I have my appointment for tomorrow afternoon at day surgery.   Ms Judy will take me to the outpatient surgery, Ms Moon is still too sick to be around me, but she is with us.  We talk about her constantly, we tell each doctor that they will meet her eventually, if they are lucky.  She is there.  She is a part of our team, and Judy and I rely on her just like she is with us.  Remember that Ms Moon, you are here, you are loved and you are a part of this team, and such an important part of keeping me sane through this process.  I love Ms Judy and she is just as important and integral to this as you are.  I need you both.  But that does not mean that you each do not have lives that might mean that sometimes you are not with me.  But you always are.

After we met with the doctor then we drove across to the Ambulatory Section.  They took more blood, had me pee in a cup, took a chest X-ray and an EKG.  It looks like I am fine to go.  

And they will take, hopefully just the one lymph node out.  Just the one.  If they feel they have to take more, I will understand.  And after the lymph node surgery, Dr. C will put in a port for me.  This is going to make my life so much better.  

The white peep is still hanging in there, but still severely suffering from PTSD.  I mean seriously.  I walk into the coop to feed or give treats, and bless its little heart it flattens out and starts screaming, then runs trying to stay flat which means then it can not see Zora Neal so then it really starts screaming.  I feel so bad for it.  So I am giving it space and hoping that eventually the terror will fade and it will grow up normal enough for a chicken.  Who knows it might end up being better adapted to deal with danger with this terrible event.  It does not seem it right now, for either of us.  Meanwhile the other little peep is doing just fine and reveling in the attention of its mother.  It was second fiddle, and now it is the golden child.  That is funny in that it is a lovely light golden color.  But at least the little white peep is alive, has a strong survival need and each day is getting better.  I also looked at the area where the holes are and sure enough it looked like something could get into the coop, so I moved the cement rocks I had put in the holes and shoveled more dirt into the hole.  I packed it down tight and mounded the dirt up to try and make sure that they will be safe for a few days.  I am not sure that tomorrow I will be able to shovel dirt after the surgery.  But since we do not have to leave until 11, hopefully I will have time to ship my packages off and check the hole for more dirt, and fill up the feeders and water cans so that the chickens will be OK for a couple of days.

Then I called work and let them know that I will be out for the week, and we will have to see how things are for next week.  I know the doctor said 2 weeks, but lets take it a week at a time and see how things go.  I have to be able to answer emails and get some work done.  Judy told me she could get me on line to my emails tomorrow from home.   I hope so.  I hate to have people asking questions and needing assistance and I am not there.  I could work from home and keep my left arm rested.  We will see.

I am a little anxious.  I know I have cancer, so what could be worse?!?!  Being put out and  then having them cut on me.  That is worse then cancer.  Remember I do not feel the cancer, I do not have any symptoms from it.  So it is not as real to me as going to the hospital putting on one of those lovely robes, being put to sleep so they can cut open my arm pit.  Sorry, that is a lot scarier right this minute then some unseen, unfelt cancer.  But this time tomorrow night, Ms Judy will be here and I will be asleep, sleeping off the drugs they will give me to do the surgery.  Everything will be fine and I will have a little less cancer in my body, and a huge sample to determine what kind of caner I have.  So this is all good.  I will probably take an Ativan tonight to sleep and rest.  

Tomorrow, they are going to get some of this cancer out of me. 
Later this week, I will meet with Dr. M and he will give us good news.
This little "c" has met its match.
I will continue with my visualization that I am well, 
that the caner just flakes away likes yellow, red and orange leaves falling off of trees this time of year.  There to be raked up and composted.  Turned from dying cells into fertilizer to be spread out in gardens.  Gardens that will be filled overflowing with flowers and vegetables.
Yes, I like that idea, the cancer is just flaking away, making room for a new healthy life.


  1. Hope all goes well tomorrow, I'll be thinking about you and thinking good thoughts. Glad your doctors are so cute! Sorry about your traumatized chickies.

  2. Cutting back the growth which needs cutting back. That's what he's doing tomorrow. I SO wish I was going to be there. Well, soon.
    I am sending you love and hoping that you have sweet, restful sleep. Tomorrow night, this will be over, as you said, and that will be GOOD.
    Loving you...Mary

  3. Sending healing wishes your way!

  4. The gardening metaphor is so very apt. I will be sending prayers your way.

  5. Yes, great metaphor about the cancer flaking and falling away like the falling leaves and the composting of those leaves creating new, healthy life.
    Wishing you the best with the surgery tomorrow. Quick recovery! xo N2

  6. I like the peeling idea. That gets my vote.

    Please Kathleen, let me know when you want to redeem the birthday coupon. You can use it for whatever you want! :-P

    We're here and at your service.
    xoxo pf

  7. Don't worry Kathleen. My C. had breast cancer and the about 12 lymph nodes were removed to check to see if it had spread. Thankfully, they were negative. She has suffered no ill effects from their removal. I will be thinking of you. Best of luck with your surgery.

  8. Thinking of you , Kathleen, hope the surgery went well.