New Chemo Day!?

W After a small emotional roller coaster and big decision to keep fighting with another new chemo, I was actually excited/nervous for the big day to roll around.  I was not expecting to have the day go the way it did.  

As a side note, we walked into the waiting room and noticed that it was practically full.  In this era of social distancing, there are fewer chairs to begin with, and fewer still of seats for two people.  All the doubles were filled and only two singles were available.  I was annoyed that a younger man in flip flops and tie-dye was taking up a double seat the would have been perfect for Lori and I and would've left one seat open for another patient.   I gave him a subtle stink eye to be a gentleman and scoot, but he did not.  Then, the tv was on AS WELL AS an older man, a veteran, was listening to his pod cast at a loud volume for the whole room to hear.  My brain did not need all that extra, crazy noise.  I wish I had some headphones to donate to this human who obviously fought for our freedom in the past.  Then, another older man entered the scene.  Lori stood and gave up her single for this man, who refused to take it away from a woman.  She finally left to the hall, and he eventually sat down.  (Again, TYE-DYE DUDE?  HELLO?????). Thankfully, I was soon called back.  

Then, we were taken to the room to wait for results and the go-ahead from Dr. Cole.  The waiting time seemed a little longer than expected.  Finally, Dr. Cole walked in.  

"I have some bad news," she stated, before take away the hand that was propping the door open.  I expected something like, "I'm sorry to tell you that your lab numbers are good enough that you'll have to start chemotherapy today."   Instead, something much worse.

"You are in liver failure.  We need to get you to the hospital now.  If we don't get this situation under control, it's GAME OVER." 

Apparently, the big boy tumor was blocking my bile duct and causing my bilirubin numbers to start going too high.  The plan was to have an ERCP, which would send a scope down to find the blockage and put a stent in to open the path to open the bile duct and allow it to clear.  (I couldn't help thinking about the current situation in the Suez Canal, blocked by a barge.)

So, no chemo and no side effects to worry about today.  

In the car, hurry home to pack a quick bag and head downtown to the hospital.  

On the way to the hospital

Finally have a room!

Nope.  You still can't eat.  

It's always something.  

At least I have a nice view. 

Collecting bracelets.

Unfortunately, due to Covid + Snowvid backup, there was not a room for me when we arrived.  The person at the admissions desk was no help and felt very cold about my situation.  He was rude. Thankfully, I was able to find a small couch in a waiting room.  I actually slept a bit until a woman came in to the empty side of my waiting room, talking on her phone with the caller on high volume speaker.  What IS it with people these days?  I must be getting old.  

Woke up, used restroom, which was a MESS. I stepped in dirty bathroom water and found the ONE stall that wasn't backed up.  Returned to Admissions to find a new, much more kind human at the desk, who actually cared about my story and helped get paperwork done and everything set up for transport to room 1161! 

 

Finally, 11 1/2 hours after breakfast, I was able to have my first food and water again!  However, I was NPO after midnight, so woke up at 2:00 am, only to see they had taken away my water.  Not until much later that day did GI decide to not do surgery until Thursday, which was 48 hours after Eliquis [blood thinner].  I FINALLY got to order dinner around 5:00 pm, trying to sleep away the hunger pains.  NPO after midnight, yet again.  Some doctor [can't remember which area] told me that Wednesday would kind of be a waste of a day, but if they tried to schedule me for outpatient, it would take 2-3 weeks for me to get the surgery I needed!

Wednesday, the waiting day.  Hungry and no visitors and lots of HGTV.

Thursday was THE day!!!!!!  Met with GI team and dietician, and physical therapy and oncology.   Got to eat ice chips all day until transport came to roll me down to the pre-op area.  Stephen was able to be there and help me ask questions of the GI surgeon, who explained the procedure beautifully, even pulling up images of the stent she uses.  She was concerned that MRI showed a very tight space in which to insert it into the bile duct, but she was confident.  Anesthesia came in and wasn't too happy when Stephen asked who ACTUALLY does the case.....CRNAs or docs or AAs?

Had to change to yellow gown/socks.

After all the questions seemed to be answered, I was rolled back to the OR and put under for a not-long-enough induced sleep and woken up to a good amount of pain in the region.  I did get to eat and recover a bit and talk with Stephen and pray that I would get to go home the next day.  

And, that prayer was granted!  Friday was my release day, and it was SO nice to be at home with my peeps and in my own bed.  

The pain is trying to get me down, but I can take pain meds and make it through.  I need to rest and heal for chemo on Tuesday.  And save enough energy to enjoy Easter traditions with my family and focus on Christ's sacrifice for me and all humankind to be saved from the pain of trials and heartbreak or sin and anguish.  

I know He lives and has sent many miracles my way.  I know He knows me individually and rose on the 3rd day that I might follow in His footsteps through His grace and mercy.  And, for that, I cannot yet give up on HOPE and FAITH in the fight.  Keep on walking the path.