Like A Rolling Stone

Well, it looks like another of my spare body parts is going to be removed. God sure knew what He was doing when He gave us all these extras.


After my third gall bladder attack in 4 months, and second in a week, it has been determined that I do in fact have gall stones and my gall bladder needs to come out. This latest episode, which actually landed me in Stony Brook Hospital for 3 days, started Wednesday night while Warren and I were visiting Jackie and Joe in Breezy Point. Those three spent the night whooping it up, drinking and carousing while I writhed in pain on the couch listening to "WipeOut" with Leah and Ryan. Naaah, kidding - I was on the couch for awhile, hoping it would pass, but Jackie and Joe and Warren were quite attentive to my distress. Eventually, it was evident that I needed to get to the emergency room so Warren and I left (and now, I'm not sure we'll ever get invited back!).


By the time we got to the ER, I was at a level "10" on the pain scale, indicating in all likelihood that my body was trying to pass the stone. After some VERY effective morphine was administered (nasty unpleasant buzz but getting rid of the pain was worth it), I was admitted for evaluation and possible surgery. Thus began the by now familiar routine of blood work, monitoring, diagnostic tests ("blah blah BLAH" as Tommy Gavin would say) and my favorite part of the process - no food for 45 hours! This was a result of several factors: the doctors wanting to give my poor gall bladder a rest; the possibility of a diagnostic test that would need me to fast; the possibility of surgery and anesthesia; and a failure of the doctors (internists, GI specialists, and surgeons) to get on the same page soon enough with respect to my treatment plan.


At 44 hours and counting I advised my wonderful and compassionate nurse Maureen that if I did not get food or see a doctor within the next hour, I would call my husband and leave the hospital. And eat. After all, by then (Friday at 4:00 pm) it was clear no surgery would be taking place before Monday. An hour later - I had a menu (Stony Brook has room service style meals) and a plan. All right, the menu was low-fat foods only but by then I could not have cared less. Another 24 hours later I was going home.


So, it appears surgery will happen sometime in the next couple of weeks, although not before September. I will find out for sure on Tuesday when I see the surgeon. It is beyond the point where just following a low-fat diet will help, even if I was so inclined to adhere to such a distasteful (pun intended!) regimen. Ironically, the choices I've had to make as a result of the surgery and radiation side effects are partly to blame for this little predicament. There was no winning this one.


I did, at one point, have to make an impassioned plea to my doctor in the hospital. They wanted to do the surgery (it's pretty uncomplicated, typically done on an outpatient basis) late this coming week and I refused. I explained that I have spent almost 15 years of my life fighting to stay alive, and the last several months undergoing rigorous therapies, all in an effort to continue to enjoy the important moments in Taryn's life, and in my family's lives. I was emphatic that I was NOT going to miss taking her to college, under any circumstances, and having the surgery anytime after Monday would have impacted my ability to do so in the way I need to. I don't know what the future holds; I don't know what course this disease (cancer) will take; I don't know how much "quantity" is left in my life. I only know that I have to be present, I have to seize all the family time I can, and I have to be able to enjoy the "quality" time that is before me today. And that includes bringing her to Maryland, getting her settled in her new college life, hugging and kissing her as she begins this oh-so-very exciting chapter in her life and then quietly crying when I arrive back home and my heart aches because she is not there.


Of course, it also means giving up my precious Chicken McNuggets and Starbucks shakes for a short period of time (another attack means I won't have a choice in the matter of immediate surgery), but I can handle low-fat for awhile... I think. Bring on the Smart Balance!


And there is always a bright side - it just so happens that I was on the same floor as Taryn's Grandma Julie (who is still fighting some serious health issues) so I got to see her a couple of times and I got twice-daily visits from her Grandpa Jim while I was there, which really lifted my spirits. He gets a special shout-out this week for taking the time to see how I was doing even though I know he must be exhausted dealing with his own disrupted family situation right now. It's no wonder Taryn has turned out to be a wonderful young lady - look at what a great family she is descended from!


Blessings and Love to All!