The Dreaded Moment: The Diagnosis.

To get caught up on what had happened prior to this you can click here.

Basically, this section starts with my first visit to my oncologist, Dr. Clark.  My primary told me the night before that she had gotten the results from my CT scan back and had my lab work back showing positive cancer markers.  She told me that she had talked to her oncologist friend and he gave me two choices:  I could be admitted to the hospital that night or I could be in his office promptly at noon the next day.  I decided on the most convenient of the two, the office visit and this is where I pick up.

I was kind of nervous that day walking into the cancer center, who wouldn’t be?  I didn’t know Dr.  Clark and of course, I didn’t know what to expect.  Who would know what to expect that hadn’t been through this before. I waited in the room for a few minutes.  I sat in the chair beside the table, on guard, so to speak, but found myself leaning and laying my head on the table.  I was still doing bad at that point with no energy and feeling sick.

Dr.  Clark came in, introduced himself and the process began.  He said that he had seen all my lab and CT results and he was concerned about what was going on.  He told me that his hunch was Lymphoma, but of course couldn’t say for sure without doing a biopsy.  He also mentioned that he had HOPED it was Lymphoma, because that was somewhat the lesser of all the evils at this point, and he thought if it was Lymphoma he had confidence that I could be cured.  He immediately called his surgeon-friend and asked that he do a lymph node biopsy on me.  He wasn’t sure if it was better to go in with a needle into one of the ones in the base of my neck (which I was unaware I had) or to remove the lymph node in my groin and to biopsy that.  He said the risk with going in with a needle is there is no guarantee that the sample you get will contain the malignant material necessary to biopsy it.  I suggested that the lumpectomy would be a better choice (not that I was excited to have surgery) but that way it could be removed and biopsied at the same time.  Made perfect sense to me.

The surgeon wanted to see my right away, so I had to leave Dr. Clark’s office and go downtown to Presbyterian Hospital.  I was there upwards of 3 hours.  Dr. Ridgeway, the surgeon, got called to do emergency surgery in the ER.  That was a nice nap I took though!  They gave me a blanket and everything!  I met him, he was very nice.  He did his necessary exam to make the proper decision on what to do, and he too, agreed it would be best to just remove the half-dollar sized lymph node in my groin.  He told me his office would call to schedule the surgery.

They called later that day and told me that I would have surgery a week from that day on Wednesday.  Dr. Clark’s office called the next morning and told me that Dr. Clark wanted to do my bone marrow biopsy that same Wednesday morning.  They said he was coming into the office to specifically do my procedure and then he would be leaving again for the day.  I told them that I was already scheduled for surgery as Kaseman (another Pres Hospital) for that morning, and asked if Dr. Clark wouldn’t mind meeting me there to do the biopsy while I was already there and knocked out!  It took a couple hours for all the arrangements to be made, but said he would be able to make it down there.

So there I was the next Wednesday, getting ready to have surgery.  They told me that I would be under what is called monitored anesthesia.  They don’t have to intubate or or anything, I would be under just for a few minutes and it’s nothing more than sleeping.  The nurse I talked to on the phone for my pre-op interview said that she had had that type of anesthesia, and had actually woken up during the surgery.  She said she didn’t hurt and that the doctor pushed a little more medication into her IV and she went back to sleep.  I figured I could handle that seeing as how I didn’t want to be fully put to sleep.  I was pretty much ok with the procedure before hand, until the anesthiologist came in and said that they would be intubating me and putting me completely out.  This is about the time I threw a fit.  I told him that they weren’t planning for that and even Dr. Ridgeway said that wasn’t necessary and I wanted to do it how I had originally anticipated.  At that time, Dr. Clark at shown up and checked in with me.  I told him about the “change in plans” and asked if there were anything we can do.  He said he would talk to Dr. Ridgeway about it, he didn’t see why I had to be put out completely.  I was especially worried because they were talking about me needing a blood transfusion and sat that my o2 sat was only at 89.  I didn’t want to risk going under general anesthesia.

A few minutes later, the anesthesiologist had come back with a syringe and said that we could continue with the monitored anesthesia.  I asked what was in the syringe as he started cleaning off the port in my IV line to administer it to me.  He told me it was Versed (Oooh, my new best friend) and that it will sedate me.  I nodded at him, a little nervous, of course, but let him continue on.  I asked how long it would take to take effect.  He said it would be about 30 seconds.  I don’t think it took that long.  I just remember a tickly feeling in my head and said to everyone around me, “Ahhh, it’s working…Nice!”

I remember being really happy at this point.  I was talking to everyone, trying to joke with them, and I remember them wheeling me into the operating room.  The introduced me to some physician assistant students that would be watching the procedures and told me to lay on my side hugging a pillow.  I remember telling them I had a question, but that is the last thing I remember.  I, to this day, don’t remember what the question was either.  Oh well.

I woke up about an hour later (?) in the recovery room.  I felt GREAT!  I had all sorts of energy, I wasn’t hurting, and I was ready to go.  They made get into a chair, I walked to it with help, and they made me eat and drink something to make sure I wasn’t nauceous and could hold food down.  I went through about 4 packs of graham crackers with peanut butter and a coke in about 4 minutes and was ready to go.  The nurse somewhat questioned me, but I assured her that I was great.  About the same time I had gotten a call from my daughter’s school that she was sick and had to go home.  I told the nurse I had to go, and she let me go.  With a little apprehension, but she let me go.  Out of the hospital after surgery in less than 10 minutes, now that’s what I’m talking about.

I was doing great, stopped at the store on my way to get my daughter, was walking around wonderfully and got to the school.  Went into the nurses office, she thought I was crazy, walking around everywhere, she knew I had just gotten out of surgery.  She said that she would call both of the girls to the office for me so that we could go, but I kndly rejected her offer, telling her I could walk to get them.  Hahaha, what a mistake.  I made it to the farthest classroom.  The teacher looked surprised to see me, she too knew I had surgery that day.  She made me sit down while my daughter gathered her belongings.

Outside, I saw my other daughter’s teacher and she stopped me to see if I was okay.  I talked to her for a quick minute and it all started to go down hill from there.  I leaned against the wall and felt like I did at Albertson’s that day.  I think the adrenaline rush was wearing off and the meds were kicking in.  I had to sit on the ground leaning against the wall.  I felt like such an idiot.  The teacher stayed with me and sent my oldest daughter to get the nurse and a wheelchair.  Sigh.  I ended up being ok.  The nurse wheeled me to the truck and I got in.  Decided it was a good time to go home, didn’t think it was wise to stay out any longer.

So, enough of that day.  Let’s skip forward to two days later.  I was still laid up in bed from the surgery.  The incision from my lymphectomy had never hurt, to this day.  But my hip was killing me from the bone marrow biopsy.  I remember dozing in and out of consciousness from the hydrocodone, when my phone rang around noon.  I answered and it was Dr. Clark.  He told me that he had gotten the results back from the biopsies and the lymph node biopsy was positive.  He said that it showed that I had Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.  He said that he is happy that it was this if anything and the prognosis was good, especially since my bone marrow biopsy came back negative.  It hadn’t spread to my bone marrow.  He set me up a doctor’s appointment for that next Friday when I would start chemo.  Wow, we’re moving fast here.

That next Tuesday I got a call from the doctor’s office.  She told me I had to go for labs that day because I had to go to get a port put in the next day.  I didn’t realize that any of that would happen and it somewhat threw me off.  I did my best to arrange it with work so I could comply to their requests.  I went for my labs later that day, and made it to the imaging center for the port insertion the next day.

They asked if I had anyone there with me to drive me home.  I was confused, I didn’t understand why.  They told me I would be put under with the conscious sedation, just as I had been when I had my lumpectomy.  I had no clue!  I thought they were putting a PICC Line in my arm or something, they showed me that I would acutally have a port in my chest underneath my skin.  Holy Hell!  I was shocked.  I did my best to make as many calls I could to make sure I got a ride home, and I made arrangements for that.

A few minutes after came my buddy, Versed again.  (I’m anxious to get my port taken out just for the Versed.  No, I’m not drug seeking, but it really is a nice drug!)  I was out within a few seconds like my last surgery.  The only difference, this time, was that I did wake up twice.  I guess the nurse that was doing my medication administration had noticed my vitals rising.  He poked his head under the sheet that was draped over my head and saw that I was awake.  I saw him give me a little more medication through the IV.  The second time he must have really noticed my vitals.  But this time I woke up in pain.  My arm was tied down because it was on the side that my port was being placed, I tried to move it but I couldn’t.  I remember bringing my legs upward and and saying “ouch!”.  He gave me even more medication and I was out for the rest of the surgery.

This is me a few minutes after I got home.  I was still very drugged, as you can see.  I didn’t know what to think about this thing in my chest.  As I tell people to this day, we are still not friends yet.  The larger incision on the bottom is where they actually put the port.  Its about as big as a quarter but it sticks out about a quarter inch from chest.  The upper incision is where they accessed my jugular to insert the catheter.  It runs down into my vena cava (the large vein that returns deoxygenated blood to my lungs).  Later that night and the next day I thought I was going to die!  It hurt so badly.  I couldn’t wear a seatbelt for about 5 days driving.  I felt like my skin was being stretched, which it was, but was very painful.  It rarely hurts now, though sometimes it does.  But it is always itching.  Guess my skin is still not used to being around it.  Hopefully it will go away at some point, even though it has been almost three months since it was inserted.

This is what my Power Port looks like.  The entire thing is actually underneath my skin.  All the nurses that I see say that I have a beautiful port.  Thanks…I think?  The white catheter you see at the top is what is routed into my jugular vein, down to my vena cava.  You can actually see the line under my skin that goes from the port up.  It’s pretty nasty looking if you ask me, but what can I do?

So enough about that.  That was my whole diagnosis story, and everything that went on up to that point.  To continue my story you can look at the posts posted up the catagory “The Chemo Chronicles”.  I also have a catagory on my progress and life and other miscellaneous things.  I hope you have enjoyed my story thus far.