One day at a time

Welcome to my very first ever-in-my-life blog. I have no idea what I'm doing, or even if the words I'm typing will magically show up, but I'm trudging forward regardless. I am hopeful that this will be a succesful format for staying in touch with all of my friends - and am confident that if I don't do this correctly, or need to add bits of flair to make this blog seem more entertaining, then one of my resident teens will come to my rescue! My plan is to update this blog as much as I possibly can - and keep all of you posted as my "journey" progresses.

If I were to truly start at the beginning, it would take me back to April of 2005, when I was first diagnosed with colon cancer. I was 41, and totally caught off guard. A 10 cm malignant tumor, which had perforated the wall of my colon, was removed, along with about 12 cm of my colon. I completed six months of chemotherapy, was declared "cancer free", and then followed a very rigorous monitoring schedule. Over the course of the last four and a half years, I have had countless scans (PET, CT, MRI, you name it), and feel as if I've given gallons of blood over to various lab techs. I've also had annual colonoscopies. Each and every test/exam/scan has continued to indicate that I am cancer free, and in good health.

Last year's colonoscopy, done in Montgomery while Mike was in Afghanistan, yielded one tiny little polyp. Unfortunately, because my (surgically re-configured) colon was so prone to shifting around, the surgeon wasn't able to remove the polyp. He described it as being 1-3 mm (yes, that's millimeters, which is VERY small) - and he felt confident that it would only grow a tiny bit over the course of the next year, and would be easier to access and remove at that point. I'm sure that if he had been able to peer into the future, he would have been more aggressive about grabbing that little bugger.

Fast forward to this year's colonoscopy, done just one week ago at Wilford Hall Medical Center (Lackland AFB). My colon was riddled with similar small polyps, as well as one large one (3.5 cm). Presumably, this large one is the same polyp that was so tiny and irretrievable last year. For it to have grown at such a rapid rate is highly abnormal, and for an otherwise clean colon to develop so many new growths within a 12-month period is, as well, unusual.

Dr. Cassidy, my wonderful GI doc, called on Wednesday afternoon with the shocking news that the large polyp was, indeed, another malignant tumor. Furthermore, the many tiny polyps were all pre-cancerous, and not just standard tissue masses. Mike and I digested the news as best as we could, and made the tough decision to keep the information from Abbey and Sam, just for the night. We had so many questions for Dr. Cassidy, and we knew that Abbey and Sam would have lots of questions, as well. We just felt that it was best to lay low, and spare our precious babies a night of anxiety and fear.

Mike and I went to see Dr. Cassidy early Thursday morning. He pushed his existing appointments aside (which, of course, caused me no end of guilt!), and spent a great deal of time talking with us, answering our questions, and explaining our options. He then brought in Dr. Connaughton, who is a colo-rectal surgeon. After much discussion, we made the decision for me to have a colectomy. Basically, my entire colon (large intestine) will be removed and, if all goes well, my small intestines will simply be re-routed and everything will be "hooked up" again. The plan is that there won't be an ileostomy, unless something goes awry during surgery. Even if the worst happens, the ileostomy will be reversed within a few months, and I'll be good as new. I asked about dietary changes, and was guaranteed that I could not only continue to eat Mexican food, but could drink my beer/wine/tequila, as well! Life is good!

I spent the better part of the day on Thursday traipsing through Wilford Hall, giving multiple test tubes of blood to the folks in the lab, and then drinking a couple of containers of a "Creamy Vanilla Smoothie" (um, no, it wasn't very good...because there's really very little possibility of ever disguising liquid barium as anything remotely 'yummy') in preparation for a chest-abdomen-pelvic CT scan. We were home again by 3 (and I FINALLY got to eat some real food!), and Mike went back to work to wrap some things up. Armed with more information, and many answered questions, we were finally able to sit down with the kids and fill them in on everything. They both took the news remarkably well - they're scared, of course, but we have every reason to be hopeful. This tumor is so much smaller than my last one, and it was caught much earlier, as well. Assuming there is no lymph node involvement (something that won't be known until a few days after the surgery), I won't even need chemo!

I woke up this morning feeling very anxious, but after shedding a few tears and getting a wonderfully reassuring hug from my amazing husband, I got out of bed and began to tackle another day. I had a wonderful walk with my dear friend, Shelly, and then came home to cook-cook-cook. Staying busy seems to be good medicine, as it's clearly helping me to stay positive and focused. The greatest news of all came just before lunchtime: Dr. Cassidy called to tell me that my CT scans were CLEAR, and showed no evidence of cancer in any other organs! Praise GOD!!!

Today (Friday) seems to be my day to be on the telephone. I've had good conversations with both my mom and Mike's mom, as well as my grandmother. And let's not forget the 871 phone calls back-and-forth between the various doctors' offices. (So okay, perhaps 871 is a bit of an exaggeration, but you get the point.) Through all of the many discussions, between Wednesday afternoon and today, this is what we know for sure:

1. I have colon cancer. Again.

2. I have one messed-up colon, and it will always be messed up.

3. My messed-up colon has GOT TO GO.

4. I'll still get to eat Mexican food and drink my margaritas.

5. I won't have an ileostomy (at least not a permanent one)

6. I'll have a `pre-op appointment on Tuesday (11/10)

7. I'll have my messed-up colon removed either late next week, or early the following week.

8. My husband is AMAZING - by far, he's the best one out there. I'm sorry if you think YOUR husband is the best, because he's not. Mike is. I have cancer, and I get to win this one.

9. My kids, my precious babies, are INCREDIBLE. They are strong, and they are adorable, and they are brave, and they are the best kids out there. Again, I'm playing the cancer-card, and I get to win. Your kids can come in second place, right after Abbey and Sam. Maybe when my cancer is all gone, you can try (if you insist) on coming in first. Until then, just climb in the back seat and be quiet :)

10. This one is the MOST important of all: Our GOD is amazing. This is all in His very capable and loving hands, and I feel an incredible amount of peace just being HIS child. I know He will care for me, and love me, and be with me - and I know He will do the exact same for my husband (the best one, remember) and my precious children (who, of course, come in first place). God IS good, all the time. Even now. ESPECIALLY now.

I will continue to update as much as possible - but can promise you that future posts won't be quite so long. I would so appreciate your prayers in the days to come, and will take a great deal of comfort knowing that I am being covered by a blanket of prayer that, quite literally, stretches across the world. I love you all!

Lindsey