An early visit for the holidays

(Scott)

At the end of the last entry, I left saying that we will see what tomorrow brings us. And it brought me back to Butler a week before I planned on coming to town, and put us in the hospital with mom having emergency surgery.

Cancer sucks.

It was late Thursday night when I rolled into downtown Pittsburgh to pick up Amy from The Beer Hive where she had been hanging out for about an hour between getting off the train from Philly and meeting me to drive to Butler. Amy’s trip to Butler had been planned for a while. Dad and mom were going to pick her up and go to dinner at The Spaghetti Warehouse, then she’d spend a week of quality mom/daughter time before I came down from Detroit and Brad came in from Philly. 

Unfortunately, after hoping that mom’s blockage would resolve, something it clearly had done before, the doctors decided that after she stopped being able to keep any food down or pass any stool, they had to get in there and see what was happening. The unplanned operation brought us together the Thursday night before Christmas.

A call to Dad on our way to the hospital lead to a tearful drive.

The surgery was exploratory. At Butler Memorial Hospital, there’s only so much that the doctors can see on a CT scan and X-Ray. I have to wonder if mom was at a better hospital with more imaging equipment, they might see more.

So they had to open her up to see the problem up close.

The result… mom’s diffused gastric cancer, the product of lobular Breast Cancer’s spread is much worse than it was only weeks ago. The strands and webs of cancer have fused parts of her small bowel together and stuck them like glue to places in her gut that they should not be. Their only option for resolving mom’s blockage was a colon ostomy.  In explaining this to dad the doctor who performed the surgery used words like “Terminal” and “Palliative Care.” The weight of mom’s condition hit home, like a boulder through a stained glass window.

The good news for now is that this is not the end. But there are no junctions between here and the last station of this train ride. What remains to be seen from here on out will be the twists, turns and speed of the journey. And like every other stop along the way, our focus has to be to just get through this moment. Tackle the small goal for now and let the battles ahead come when they get here.

For now, the task is healing from surgery and getting mom well enough to leave the hospital. Once she can do that, then we can have the discussion about treatments. Chemo, hormone drugs, or something else, or a combination of things.

Amy, Dad and I shed a lot of tears over the past 24 hours. And Ian, Brad and our family and close friends have offered support and love.  Amy’s work and my work have been incredibly supportive. Modern technology makes it possible for us to work from the hospital, even from mom’s side while she sleeps or while the elderly gentleman across the hallway unintentionally (maybe not?) shows his genitals to everyone in a 20’ radius of his doorway. Hospital fun time.

Tomorrow we hope that mom will be strong enough for visitors. I’ll post an update on my Facebook Page (scottallenmyers) when she’s in visiting shape. Until then, keep those prayers and good thoughts coming. Every single one of them is felt and truly appreciated.