9.03.2012

Ovarian Cancer - Our Journey - Post 2

The day mom went to the doctor for her bleeding was the beginning of the most difficult time our family has faced to date.  My grandmother's stroke was tough but she passed only three short weeks after having that stroke.  It was a blessing to know her suffering had ended.
 
As for my mother, don't ask me how but Mom and I both knew (My sister probably did, too but that's a whole other story. My mother probably didn't share what she was going through at that time with my brother.) what it meant but considering the very adamant "don't be negative" comments my father would yell, we didn't dare discuss it.  I actually told her a few times "Don't go there.  Not yet.  Let the doctors tell us what is wrong."  No supposition.  At least that's what I kept telling myself. 
 
Back to that day.  The doctor scheduled my mother for an ultrasound.  One thing is for sure, they didn't waste much time then.  All those years, though, she kept going and not one single time was that suggested... But a 63 year old woman, who has gone through menopause, shows up bleeding and they kick it into high gear.
 
By the way?  That bleeding?  Doctors weren't thinking ovarian cancer at that point, either.  Ovarian cancer doesn't usually cause vaginal bleeding...  But then in all honesty, ovarian cancer isn't all that typical or do much of anything in a "usual" way.  Hence the lack of accurate, reliable testing for it.
 
But I digress.
 
Mom's ultrasound was handled by two technicians.  As God only can provide, one of the technicians had gone to school with my sister and they shared a mutual friend so when technician #1 left the room to grab a doctor, this mutual friend had a tough time talking to my mother.  Conversation isn't supposed to lean toward what they're seeing but it was fairly obvious to my mother that something was wrong, seriously wrong.  So...she asks.  And the tech who knew of our family/knew my sister would only tell my mother that yes, they saw something on the ultrasound and it was big enough to block their view of her right ovary.
 
After that appointment, my mother called me almost in tears.  I told her not to worry - not unless the doctor called her and wanted to see her right away.  I kept praying it was just a cyst.  Just a cyst, God... please...just a cyst.
 
But it wasn't to be.  The doctor called and asked my mother to come in at 4:30 that afternoon.  I asked her if she wanted me with her and she said yes.  I left work and met my mother and my sister at Mom's doctor's offices.  And that was when we learned she had an 11cm tumor on her right ovary.
 
The doctor referred my mother to a gynecological oncologist immediately, had her nurse call and push my mother into an appointment for that following week.
 
That was October 1, 2009.  That was us getting to the top of a very big hill on the roller coaster.  The ride down reminds me why I hate roller coasters...


9.02.2012

Ovarian Cancer - Our Journey - Post 1

I don't remember exactly when it started.  Mom & I worked together for 15 years so I was with her almost every day for a large part of my life.  From the time I was born until my parents moved to California in December of my senior year in high school, then again when I moved to California after graduating from high school.  Although - I really couldn't stand California so I moved back to New Jersey with my then husband so for a couple of years there we were apart again.
 
Then I came to visit them for Christmas in Washington State one year and fell head over heels in love with this place.  I moved here over Labor Day weekend that following year.  And I was with my mom again.  That was 1989.  In 1995 she came to work at my current employer and she was there until ovarian cancer forced her into retirement in October, 2010. 
 
For 15 years we were together almost every day.  Vacations or when one of us was sick was about the only exception.  Even weekends we would usually hang out doing something on at least one day, often both. 
 
When she told me in July of 2009 she had started bleeding I looked at her as if she had grown a second head.  I was there when she went through menopause.  She hadn't had a period in over 10 years.  I knew that.  What in the world was she talking about?  I didn't tell her anything she didn't already know and she did make an appointment to see the doctor.
 
That wasn't really the beginning of our nightmare, though.  See - for years before that July my mother dealt with stomach issues.  Gas, bloating, pain...  She went to doctor appointment after doctor appointment.  Two colonoscopies found nothing.  Whatever other myriad of tests she had found nothing.  I'm really not sure, though - not anymore - if they ever did a CA-125.  Not until the bleeding started, anyway.
 
Looking back, I've often wondered why they weren't more aggressive in that area.  She had a rough time with menopause.  Heavy bleeding, a D&C (and pardon my ignorance - that's what they called it then but isn't that about the same as an ablation?) and all sorts of discomfort accompanied that time in her life.  Why, when she complained of pain, bloating and such didn't they look further into the possibility it had nothing to do with her stomach and intestinal track we will never know.  But they didn't. 
 
Of course, we know now those are symptoms of ovarian cancer but it can mask itself pretty well.  It sure did for her.


9.01.2012

Ovarian Cancer Facts - Post 1

Did you know...

More than 22,000 women will be newly diagnosed with ovarian cancer this year and 70% of them will die from the disease.


Source:  www.whyteal.org



September is Ovarian Cancer Awareness Month.


8.25.2012

September is Coming

The other morning I was getting ready for work and a beautiful blog post poured itself out in my mind.  Ever have that happen?  You think of something that sounds amazing in your head and when you go to write it down it's gone?  Not just bits and pieces but every word - from the first to last - is just... gone.  That's what happened with this post.

It was a brilliant post, on how September 1 is just one week away and with it comes Ovarian Cancer Awareness Month.  It was full of beautiful words about the woman who was - and still very much is - so very important to me and my life and who was robbed of her old age by a disease that should not have won.  At least not according to the doctors...

However.  There is a however.  And since all of beautiful, eloquent words are gone, you get this:

It did rob her of her old age.  I know - it was with God's permission and it was time for her to go home to Him but - ovarian cancer arrived in our lives, loud, permeating and overbearing and before we felt like we had blinked, disappeared with my mother.  She was so beautiful.  So kind, loving, generous, caring, gentle, quiet, giving, compassionate....  Oh the adjectives could go on forever.

However.  (It seems to be a however kind of day...)

What I want to talk about here is ovarian cancer and I probably can't do that without lacing my mother through the sentences but as I try to post more over the next month, I want to start with this:

Most women, once diagnosed with ovarian cancer, do not survive the disease.  There is no annual test, no blood test that can be done.  Most of the time, women have symptoms for months and they don't think too much about it except that they have been, perhaps, more uncomfortable than usual.

For seven years before she was diagnosed, my mother went to doctor after doctor trying to figure out why her stomach was bloated and causing her so much pain.  They could find nothing.  Now - 7 years is a long time and I have yet to find someone who doesn't hesitantly say there is no way her disease would have been that quiet for so long but...they don't come right out and immediately say no.  They get a little nervous.  So - it just seems to me (and this is opinion right now - NOT scientific fact!) that they really don't know anywhere near enough about ovarian cancer.  They can't say no - it wasn't growing for that long, that it started slow and something, perhaps a hormonal change as my mother aged, kicked it into high gear...  They can't say.

What they can say is what I started to say - the symptoms are often small, seemingly insignificant.  Gas, bloated stomach, discomfort in the abdominal area, nausea...  Things you might dismiss because you're tired or it's flu season, or you ate Mexican last night.  But then you start to realize that you're gassy even though you haven't had Mexican food in two weeks and maybe this stomach ache isn't going to go away if you just get a good night's sleep...

I will start, before September by saying this - LISTEN to your body.  Sit down, pay attention to how you've been feeling and let your body talk to you.  If you start seeing patterns that aren't quite patterns or realize you've been feeling pretty lousy for a month or two, make an appointment.  Get a check up.  Talk to your doctor.  Your doctor would really rather see you and tell you that it's nothing than have to tell you you have cancer and it's so far advanced there isn't too much they can do.

By the way - those same doctors who couldn't say "no" to me when I asked if that tumor could be growing for 7 years?  They're the same ones who said to my mother as my sister & I sat with her in the room to hear the pathology report results after her hysterectomy and said she was Stage 1C and only C because the tumor had just ruptured before they operated and "If we can cure anyone, we can cure you."

That was 19 months before she died.

Ovarian cancer needs research, it needs to be looked at and taken seriously.  Breast cancer is serious, I get that but we focus SO much attention on breast cancer and totally ignore her most insidious sister.  Ovarian cancer kills more than it does not. 

By the way - the color given to Ovarian Cancer Awareness is teal.  My prayer is every time you see teal in the month of September it will make you think of Ovarian Cancer and perhaps lead you to looking into it, learning about it yourself.

And if you don't get in to see your doctor once a year - get in to see your doctor once a year.  Do that exam.  And listen to your body.

8.14.2012

A Heart Loss for Seattle

Kathi Goertzen, longtime anchor for KOMO news, channel 4 here in Seattle, lost her battle yesterday with brain tumors.  Kathi was dearly loved by many of us who have watched her for decades.  She had been with KOMO for 30 years.  She was gracious, warm, kind, trustworthy, compassionate and an all around amazing human being.  She will be missed in ways we don't have words to express.  It is a physical ache, even for those of us who didn't know her personally.  How much it must hurt her friends and family is excruciating to imagine.



7.31.2012

Health Issues & Heart Scares

We had a bit of a scare today. A hasn't felt well for a couple of days. He told me he didn't feel great but he didn't go into detail. Since I'm still battling the cold C2 brought home from Mexico, I thought that was what he meant.
Apparently I was wrong. This morning he casually mentions, as he's on his way to work, that if he isn't feeling better by tomorrow he thinks he'll go to the hospital.

The hospital. Not the doctor. The hospital. (I so love the stoicism men can have!!!!)

I didn't react in an immediate panic, I started asking questions and as he started listing off what he was feeling, I oh so calmly told him to get his butt to the doctor now. Don't go to work. Call the boss, tell her you'll be late and go.

Fortunately he was kind of getting the idea that's where I was going with it all when we were talking so he had already gotten off the freeway & was at our doctor's office when I said that. This cracked me up, too... He says to me... "What do I say? Do I walk in and ask if I can be seen because I'm having chest pains?" And well... ummmm... the calm might have cracked here a bit when I said "YES!!!!"

A bit of time goes by, maybe 1/2 an hour, and I get a call from his boss asking me how he is. I said I didn't know, I hadn't heard from him yet. And she says "So... his blood pressure was crazy high & they were doing an EKG and you haven't heard how that went?" And yes... he told HER, not ME...

I stood there for a few seconds and then started laughing and told her that she knew more than I did (and at the same time I'm turning off things in my office, locking the safe, getting out my keys...) and that I would call her as soon as I learned more.

As I'm driving to the doctor's office, I try to call him. No answer. So I know they haven't "set him free" or anything yet. He calls me as I am, literally, parking my car in the parking lot at the clinic. He asks me which pharmacy we use.

And I find I can breathe again.

Because if they're calling in a prescription, he isn't having a heart attack. But I'm probably going to kill him for telling his boss not me... :)

When I ask him what they found, he says he'll call me back in a few seconds. I tell him I'm in the parking lot. He squeaks out "here?" Yeah. Here. When you tell your boss and she tells me that your BP is sky high & they're doing an EKG, I get a bit concerned. And I don't want to have to cover that extra 1/2 hour if they're tossing your butt in an ambulance and driving it to the hospital.

I did a lot of talking with God on the way to the doctor but I found it interesting later that I didn't ask God to heal A, or keep A alive. I just asked Him to please give me the opportunity to tell him again that I love him and that he has been the best husband ever.

So...I did learn that while I would not be thrilled if God chose to call A home, I won't be pissed off, either. That was kind of nice.

It does seem, however, that it was not quite A's time. Esphogeal spasms. Apparently those suckers have symptoms that mimic a heart attack. A is on prescription Prilosec and is probably going to feel pretty lousy for another day or so but he has tomorrow off so he can rest and let the meds do their work.

As I reflect on the morning, in addition to knowing I won't be mad at God, I learned that I can handle some iffy news without panicking - at least not right away - and I also learned that A & I need to get super-serious super-fast about getting healthy.  We're only in our mid-40's.  God willing, we have a lot of living to do and days like today aren't anything I want to repeat too often.


7.29.2012

Conversations

Last night I had dinner with friends and we got to talking about cleaning clutter out of our homes, donating things to Goodwill and how hard it is to part with stuff.  Even meaningless stuff.  It was a fun conversation but it did get me thinking.  One of the things I've realized is that ever since we were robbed, I have a tough time being away from things that mean something to me.  There has been so much loss since that day, it hit me that I am incredibly afraid of losing ANYTHING else and that includes stuff.

My mother's cross is one my grandmother gave her for Christmas several years ago.  I went shopping with my grandmother for that cross, helped her pick it out so there are many, many memories tied up in that cross.  It hit me last night - my big fear is someone stealing the rest of my memories.  I know, it sounds kind of silly but while reflecting, I thought about what was stolen from me and what jumped to mind immediately was that lock of hair that was from Chris #1's first haircut but in things that were "bought", my grandmother's cameo ring and the gold cross my mother bought for me.  There were other pieces - the circle of diamonds Aaron bought for me, my wedding band and other such stuff.  Each time I would look at those pieces, memories would come flooding in.  With my grandmother's cameo ring, I'd think of different trips to the shore, Sunday dinners, riding in their car to places like Longwood Gardens, the Baltimore Aquarium.  Everywhere I went as a child I was always short enough to be at hand level and on her hand was that ring. The stories are vast, the memories overwhelming.  With that ring gone, I still have memories but it feels like they have stopped with not being able to look at that ring.  It seems silly but when I start digging deeper into my motivation for things, I discover all sorts of habits and thought processes I'm not even aware I have.

Since October, 2010, we've been robbed, my husband's close friend/husband of my close friend has died, my mother has died and our dog has died.  Overwhelming loss and I've discovered that with each one, I have started to pull things a bit closer and am less willing to let things go. 

Now that I've realized this, though, I need to start the next part of that walk.  The part that settles my heart back down with the knowledge that God has not lost control.  He is still on His throne, the world is still going to go as He intends and nothing comes into my life or out of my life without His say so.  It's not going to happen today but as I sit down with His Word and pray to Him, listen for Him, I am praying my heart can put my "things" back to the importance they belong - none without His love, grace and mercy.  Without Jesus in my life, I have absolutely nothing - no matter how many things are sitting in my house or attached to my person.

Another avenue for my quiet time to explore...