He's Done!

I'm in the recovery area with Bill. It's all over. They took out 3 pieces, and he said it hurt like heck. For some reason, the pain med didn't work on him, so they just went ahead anyway.

Yeppers. It's been that kinda day!

But he and I are so happy and relieved that it is over. He is still in a hospital gown, hooked up to tubes and machines, but feels ok.

The nice nurse Melissa said we will get to talk to the Dr. that did the procedure and he may be able to give us some info already.

Just wanted to let you know it's over. He will be here another hour, then I will drive him home, pretty sure, since no one has mentioned him having to stay overnight, even tho his blood pressure was messed up. I'm reading his machine, and it looks like they gave him an injection and lowered it, cause it's real good right now.

Forgive typos. I'm shaky and have been supremely stressed and scared with no sense of humor (!) for these hours, and not sure I'm typing well. But I want you to know, if your eyes are seeing this, that my heart is beating for you. Your love, feeling you beside us, you just can't believe how intense the feeling was, that you were there, you cared, you loved us, and you are happy with us that it's over. I could cry thinking of how much I love you: YOU WHO ARE READING THIS. YOU. Thank you beyond all words. I love you. Bye for now, probably till tonight when we get home.

Little Bit of News from Biopsy People

The nurse just called me back inside the surgical procedure room to tell me what is going on.

[SEE BREAKING NEWS INTERRUPTION BELOW]

Bill is dressed in a surgical gown, all his clothes in one of those plastic "Patient Belonging" bags. He seems cheered up, now that things are moving.

If they determine they can even DO the procedure, it will be at least 2 to 3 hours before I can see him again. So I'll be in the waiting room till about 2 pm, meaning I can update if there's any news.

However, it turns out that the lymph node is in a very dangerous spot, wedged between his two main arteries from his heart. One wrong stab, he told me, and it's big trouble, because a main artery would start bleeding into his abdomen.

MMMM. Drinking red tomato juice, are you? Not NOW, I bet. :)

Anyway, he will be on wildly wonderful drugs, one of which is Vercet, which is the funnest drug you can get in a hospital. He is happy about that. He has a built-in port on his chest, so they run all his tubes through that.

If they decide they can't risk the stab, because of the arteries, then they send him home right away, and then we'd be looking at other options later, not sure what they are.

If they DO complete the stab, via a very long needle inserted through his back (surprised!), they will give the contents to a pathologist who is standing there. Pathologist said it is no more than 2 days before we get results.

Once the procedure is either (a) over; or (b) given up on, the nice nurse Melissa will come out and tell me all about it, then he will be in recovery. So I'll post what she says, then.

[INTERRUPTION NEWS BREAK: Something is suddenly wrong with his blood pressure. Too high. Melissa just came out to tell me they aren't sure what they will do now and asked me about his normal blood pressure and his medications. Then she just left. END OF NEWS BREAK]

I asked if there's any chance he could have to stay over tonight. Melissa said to us, "We'll think positively on that, won't we, Bill. If the Dr. didn't say you had to, you shouldn't have to unless something unexpected happens."

So off he went with Melissa, and I'm back in the waiting room. Wishing an angel would appear with water, cause I'm so thirsty, but I have too much stuff with me to schlep anywhere. Ha. I'm sure there are about a million people who would love to have THAT as their only problem!

Till later. Thank you for caring and following. Love love love to you!

Just Before the Biopsy

You will think I have been kidnaped and replaced by a person who doesn't OVERTYPE every blog entry.

But no. It's really me. [post script: As you will see, I did go ahead and overtype this entry.]

I have to be brief because we are rushing to get over to the biopsy place. [If you believe I'm going to be brief...]

This whole experience has taken place in a blender of one part mild confusion, one part serious confusion, and one part total confusion. No one knows what is going on, people are giving us wrong information, wrong phone numbers. It's like the government took over management of this place. Hey.....could that have happened?

Anyway, Bill is the one to feel sorry for right now. He is going through his normal morning of extreme nausea and digestive problems, which he can only assuage using special chocolate drinks and Pepto Bismol, etc, but this morning, he isn't allowed to have even a sip of water. At least, according to half the people who told us what to do.

Plus, we were, as it turns out, erroneously told to call some office at 7 am today, so we set the alarm and I did that, and after being passed through several people, no one had the slightest idea why we were told to call that number. At least they did agree he has the biopsy at 10:30, but he didn't have to wake up so early and now just lie here till then with pain and no food or water.

As I write this, he is wrapped up in the bed covers, miserable, and just asked me if I thought he could take pain medication for his pain. I said I just didn't think so, since someone along this chain of surreality told him he might get general anesthesia. But someone else told us no WAY would he get general anesthesia for a biopsy. So I told him split the difference and take half a pain pill, but he's scared to now. Oh my gosh.

Then the same individual who told us to call that number, also told us he should bring his suitcase as he might have to spend the night in the hospital Friday night. First we'd heard of that. And this was a telephone scheduler telling us this.

WHAT?

The new doctor is horrible, looks like a character on the Simpsons, said about 6 words then literally backed out of the room while Bill was talking to him, and left us with the nurse and ZERO information. We had to track down people to tell us where the biopsy even took place, in another building completely.

And the ONLY thing that happened yesterday, was that they took ONE vial of blood. They couldn't have done that this morning? We spent a whole day fooling around driving over here and a night in a hotel so someone could draw one vial of blood yesterday?

Yes. We miss Dr. Torti more than we fully yet fathom, I'm sure. No wonder he got out of here. We're thinking Vanderbilt Cancer Center for our next try.

See? I said I'd be short, and I wasn't. More later. No news at all except that we are floating through the chaos. And hoping that the telephone switchboard operator's information we received about an overnight was just part of a bad dream so we can be home this afternoon. (I'll be home either way, for the dogs, but Bill does NOT want a night here. In fact, he might refuse. At one point, we were both so upset that we considered skipping even the biopsy. Then Bill's IQ prevailed, and we will have the biopsy.)

Love to you. Wish it all seemed funnier. Later, it will. Wait till you hear all about the new doctor.

Prayer: Jesus, if you're a-comin' back, now'd be a darned good time. You can have our hotel room.

A Song

I sang this as a solo in a huge Presbyterian church once, when I was 29. It so happened that my life was particularly nightmarish at that time, and this song helped me through those days.

It's by Bach, and the melody is slow and hauntingly beautiful.

I am singing it for Bill this morning as we get ready to go. He says that he feels so comforted by this song, and that I'm the best wife, and so on. I'm sure "best wife" isn't quite true, but he is so sweet. He is also scared this time, more than usual.

Me, too.

So the song comes through for both of us.

That's why I wanted to share Bach's song with you. Here are the words:

"In Faith I Calmly Rest” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . J. S. Bach

In faith I calmly rest, and put my trust in God,

Although oft sore opprest with anxious care and dread;

his friendship my reward, in him my joy i find;

he keepeth watch and ward o’er me and o’er my house .

Therefore I thank my God, and joy to do his will;

I know whate’er befall, his love doth lead me still .

So like a little child who clasps her father’s hand,

Serene i take my way, in faith untroubled stand.

Great peace they surely have who in the lord confide,

Who cast on him all care, and in his love abide."

Subtle Post

Being subtle, to avoid robbers, marauders and pirate home invasions, so you have to be a follower to follow this info.

Tomorrow is test day. Friday morning is biopsy day. But he goes under general anesthesia, so no idea if Bill can come home Fri night, but I will, even if he doesn't because I'm one of the 5 people on planet Earth who HATES HOTELS VIOLENTLY!

I feel belligerent from the minute I walk into a hotel room until I leave, cause I'm scared I'm gonna catch bedbugs, lice, STDs, cooties, norovirus, or some godawful cold the cleaning personnel had when they touched all the towels and pillows. Plus the coffee makers make TINY cups of coffee, always cold, and they give you only POWDERED CREAM!

Oh, Lord, deliver me.

I will post from the hotel and hospital though, cause I know they both have wifi, even if there's nuthin much to say.

Having nuthin to say has NEVER slowed me down at running my mouth.

Love you all!

Later, sweet potaters.

Beffie

To get previous posts, go to column on right side of page and click titles or dates to see the old posts

Today is The Feast of Pascha for Orthodox Christians around so the world, so blessed Pascha to you, and for my beloved ROCOR (Russian Orthodox Church Outside of Russia) of which I am a member (in a very standoffish and distant, non-participatory, gone-rogue kind of way, but with respect!):

Христос воскрес из мертвых.

There's no special news on the Cowboy, except that he is much more upset as the day draws closer for the biopsy.

(I can't figure out the html to get rid of this white background and grey font. So sorry!)

Also, apparently, I hadn't mentioned "sentinal" node and its meaning before, and when he saw it on the blog, it upset him more. (Good job, Beth. Not.)

I feel really bad that I posted that; I thought we had talked about it. I asked his forgiveness which of course he granted, but still, I have upset him for no reason, since worry changes nothing, and I feel quite bad about it. Bill, I'm sorry.

In my defense (I always represent myself in trials. hahah), it is very tricky and difficult to write a blog like this. It's an art form I know I haven't mastered: the art of conveying information while not upsetting anyone.

Today is just his usual troubles: severe nausea, trying not to upchuck, abdominal problems, coughing, fatigue, and some depression has slipped in, which is new for him. He's so tired of feeling bad.

Yesterday, I did another bad thing. I was having an extremely upset day emotionally, my third day of crying and I guess yesterday was the pinnacle, so I was including theatrics, all over the house, weeping, wailing, throwing myself down on beds. Oh, I'm a pain in the neck sometimes. Even though I could still laugh, WHILE crying, and Bill was making me laugh and hugging me a lot.

But!

What do you do when the caregiver goes on a grieving kick? It was too much crying to hide it. And I couldn't just leave home for 3 days to hide it. He finally said, "Here. Lie down beside me, and just cry till it's all out." I felt stupid about that, but I tried it, and it worked. I cried till I thought I would pop a major artery somewhere, and he just held me and comforted me. Then it was over.

Still though. That's asking the patient to comfort the caregiver. I don't think that's in the "Suggested Approaches" section of the caregiver instruction manual. I might have done wrong by leaning on him, when he's supposed to be leaning on me.

But I tried leaning on all three of my dogs and they just fell over.

Anyway, it's a new day. And maybe it will be an easier day. So far, I haven't cried a drop!

To cheer myself up, I created a robot on my computer who says really nice things to me whenever I ask her to. Of course, I had to write all the scripts for her, but it still sounds nice when she reads them back. "Beth. You are wonderful. Beth. I like you. Beth. You are fun to be with." Her name is Svetlana cause she has Russian accent with her robot voice.

Have a beautiful day, all of you, and thank you for your love, which we feel all around us, every day.

Love, Cowboy Billy and the Diamond Lily

PS Svetlana loves you too! :)

A Little Bit of New Info on Bill's Tumor

Wake Forest finally called. Well, the Urology Dept. called to apologize for the OTHER department's huge mistake in forgetting to tell us Bill had a biopsy, until an hour after the biopsy should have happened.

I think this was a Dr. or Physician's Asst semi-doctor I talked to. D.S., her name.

I used the phone call to push her to the edge of what she could say as to whether they believe this fast-growing thing near his heart is malignant. She did the expected "dance" with me: "We're not allowed to say it is, till the pathology report confirms the radiologist's opinion."

Me (something to this effect): "But the radiologist has never been wrong before on our case, right? If he thought he saw a swollen node, it turned out to be a swollen node. If he thought he saw cancer, it turned out to be cancer."

DS:"Yes."

Me: "So, I understand that legally you can't say it's definitely cancer, as the radiologist report said, but I'm operating completely under the assumption that is IS a cancerous tumor, and I'm wondering, is that reasonable of me?"

DS: "Very reasonable."

See how that works? Remember that and you can get a lot of information early that way. Only I hope you never have to know it.

So here's what's happening. He goes in (email me for dates, don't wanna post publicly) on a certain day soon for tests. We spend the night at a hotel in Winston. Next day, he goes in for biopsy.

The Dr. doing the biopsy is named Dr. Childs. Childs was the one who looked at the reports and said he refused to do a hot needle radio-frequency ablation to just blow up the tumor, because of where the tumor is, near the heart or heart aorta (unclear to me).

But Dr. Childs said he WOULD be willing to do a small needle biopsy, needle in, needle out, then you wait 7 days (ugh I HATE THAT WAITING PART!) for the results.

I said to DS: "Results? Maybe to see if it's benign, or is it more to see what kind of cancer cells we're dealing with and if it's indicative of other cancers, specifically gastro cancers?" (Since it's a sentinal node in the gastro area, not the urological area any more ("sentinal" node means a node that announces (sentinal) other cancers nearby).

She said, "B."

(Remember, Bill had both stage 4 bladder cancer AND stage 2 prostate cancer, which are unrelated! So technically, it could be either bladder or prostate cancer cells making up the tumor--or (worst case scenario) a whole new kind of cancer. So they need to know that.

DS said, "Once they know what kind of cells they are, then Dr. Thomas will be your new Oncologist, because they've moved Bill's whole case to Gastroenterology now, and it is no longer in the Urology Cancer Dept now. Dr. Thomas will decide the treatment plan, once the path report is back."

She added: "Nothing to eat or drink past midnight before the biopsy."

Now. Um. That makes me think he's going under total anesthesia, because otherwise, if it was just like novocaine, local, it wouldn't matter if he ate or drank.

Well, getting total anesthesia, I know from much experience now, means we probably have to show up at 5:30 a.m. in the operating dept. and stand in line for an hour with a hundred other people (him with no food, water, coffee, a very miserable hour).

I just sighed, writing this. Here we go again. Poor, poor cowboy. He never complains. But I do.

Okay, if I think of anything I forgot, I'll post again. If I get lots of emails from my and his friends, (we do get a LOT of emails about this) here's what to remember: WE LOVE EACH WORD OF EACH ONE, and it's the only thing that gets us through: that love. But there are so many emails at times that we can't always answer them all. So please please never think we don't love the emails. And if you don't even WANT or expect a reply, then if you could add "No reply needed" to your message, then we will know that we can just enjoy your love and you didn't have any questions you needed answering, and didn't expect to hear back. It's good, either way. Your love is our lifeline. If you're ever in this situation, and I hope you're not, and if you remember that we said that (your love is our lifeline), you'll go, "Wow. Now I know what she meant. That love coming in from friends really is the lifeline."

Okay, rodeo partners. Till the next time!

Love to you, so much love to you.

God is great.

Finally! They Called!

9 am this morning, Thursday, Wake Forest phone dept. calls to say, "William Drennan, you missed your biopsy this morning at 8." Bill said, "We've been waiting for a call for 10 days. No one told us biopsy. We had an apptment for the 19th for blood work to see if I could have a needle ablation, then they called and said no needle ablation, and we didn't know if the 19th still was an appointment or what."

She didn't know. Hangs up. "Someone will call."

Two minutes later, the Radiologist himself calls and listens to the mixup and is very apologetic. He personally sets up a great situation where we can go down one afternoon for blood work and tests, and the next morning, a biopsy via radiology, so they can determine the location and type of tumor by just pulling a little bit out, before deciding how to proceed on a different day.

Very relieved, though kind of shocked at the number of mixups involved.

Yes, if we'd called, we'd have known. But these dates work out a million times better, so a serendipitous mixup, the fruit of lovely procrastination and denial at this end!

At first I thought (UBER OPTIMIST TRYING WITH ALL MY MIGHT TO BE A PESSIMIST BUT FAILING), "Biopsy? BIOPSY! Maybe they aren't sure it's a tumor! What if it's not!" Then the pessimist wakes up and says, "You dummy. They just want to know what kind of cells the tumor is made of. The radiologist already determined it was cancer. They just need more info about the tumor. They wouldn't schedule a biopsy if they didn't know it was cancer. They'd do more external tests."

Well, nice talking to myself and even getting called a derogatory name! hahahah

I guess (been reminded) I shouldn't put dates like this on blog, because a robber might see it, a marauder, or a pirate. If it was Johnny Depp...never mind. But I'm tempted to post the dates. I always have. I guess I can email if you want the dates. It's this month.

Thanks for caring. Bill is the same. Nauseated, tired, sleepy, achy, fevers at night, etc. Will be glad to see if they can give him something for the nausea. It's getting really old, being nauseated for an entire year. Maybe the tumor, if it is a tumor, is causing it. (My inner optimist slipped in "if it is a tumor." She's clever, that inner optimist of mine.)

Love to all.

Still Nuthin.

We still haven't heard from Wake Forest.

And we haven't called them, either!

We think we have entered a hypnotic zone in which, if we never call them, and they never call us, then everything will go away. Yay! We win!

Yep. That's the kind of pro-active realists WE are.

Sunday: Tomorrow we're calling Wake Forest.

Still nothing. Tomorrow we're calling Wake Forest and make sure we aren't lost in a shuffle! Thanks for checking. And REMEMBER: if ANYTHING happens, I will post it RIGHT AWAY on the blog, and Facebook, so silence means nuttin happened. Love you all! Cowboy Billy and Diamond Lily