After reporting for duty at 6 a.m., my 86-year old, impatient mom, couldn't understand why we were still sitting in chairs in the surgery waiting room at 6:10. Thankful that I had so recently been the patient, I explained to her that the medical system is often a "hurry up and wait" situation. (If I had a dime for every hour I "waited" for a medical appointment or procedure, we could ALL retire!) By 8 a.m., after paperwork, gowning up, and a talk with the surgeon, mom was being wheeled away to the OR.
In the unusual position of not being the patient, I was quite out of sorts, both because of my new job description -- read, wait, pace, pray, read, worry, pray some more -- but also since I couldn't really seem to focus on any task, expectantly wanting, yet not wanting, my cell phone to ring. At least I found a gorgeous garden (with extremely uncomfortable cement benches) in which to wait and contemplate life. The blazing sun was immensely therapeutic and I soaked up a few too many rays (sorry, Dr. Chowdhury -- I know I promised you I'd watch my sun exposure).
About 11, we got word that mom was out of the OR and in the recovery room. Maureen, who had toddled off to do a few errands, returned and we headed up to the now-crowded waiting room. Since Maureen has worked at the Trail hospital for many decades, she is well known in the building. Unofficial reports via nurses she knew were that mom had done well in the operating room, and would be 1-2 hours in recovery. At the 3 hour mark, we began to worry that things were going south. I even joked about signing mom up for the paraplegic basketball team if the epidural had gone wrong. At the 4 hour mark, Maureen asked a nurse to go investigate and, shortly after, mom was wheeled down the hallway to her room.
Groggy, incoherent, and frail, Mom had made it through step 1 of her battle -- removing a large cancerous tumour, several lymph nodes, and several blood vessels. Unfortunately, my dad did not understand that mom's condition was a result of anesthetic and, when I brought him to the hospital later in the afternoon, convinced himself she was dying. Thankfully, she was perkier and more talkative when we visited yesterday, reassuring dad that she is on the road to recovery.
The Good News
Dr. L performed the hemicolectomy and was able to reattach the ends of the bowel once the tumour was removed, so mom does not have a colostomy (and the accompanying "poop" bag). She will be closely monitored for leakage and infection, but so far, so good. Fingers crossed!
The Bad News
Unfortunately, the surgeon told Maureen yesterday that several of the removed lymph nodes were filled with cancer as well. He did his best to remove every node that was visibly cancerous (and likely a few extra ones to be sure). Because of mom's advanced age, they will not likely recommend chemo or other treatment of any kind. Even if they did, I would advise her against it because I don't want six months of her quality of life down the tubes because of side effects.
All-in-all, we couldn't have asked for a better outcome so far. Mom is still on the right side of the grass, is keeping the nurses on their toes, and is as feisty as ever. Just more reassurance that God answers prayer!
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