What was your moment?
October 17, 2010 6 Comments
Yesterday we decided to visit a pumpkin patch in order to give Peter a chance to have that fun, fall fest feeling we experienced last week. We opted for Pumpkinville which happens to be a part of the Leesburg Animal Park in Leesburg. Having tried and failed at making it to the Falls Church Farmers Market (why was every ATM in FC out of commission yesterday??), we got back on Route 7 and headed out to the country.
Peter wisely realized a few minutes in that perhaps we should have a bit of lunch first and we stopped at Panera. Up until this point, all was well, and for whatever reason, I was of little or no mind to do any Googling. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep (insomnia has reared it's ugly head) or the perfect fall day, but I was just blissfully ignoring everything. Then I made the mistake of sneaking in a quick Google, something along the lines of "miracle cure for breast cancer no surgery."
What did I find? Well, of course, to Peter's chagrin, I found at least one case of a person who did not have surgery and lived to be very happy with her solution. I think at least chemo was involved, but as far as I could tell, no surgery and her diagnosis seemed similar to mine (and there I go again…comparing cancers…which I KNOW I shouldn't do). I offered him my iPhone, he read it, muttered something under his breath and I knew I should quit while I was ahead.
Off we went to Pumpkinville. I turned the phone off and other than one tiny set of tears on the hay ride (let's blame it on the dusty straw, okay?), I was fine. I didn't cry for almost two hours and nearly posted it on my FB status, as I was so darn proud. Then I realized how that ridiculous that would sound and thought better of it.
It also helped (sadly) that Kelsey had a bit of a fall and I was distracted by her pain. She tried some swinging seat activity and managed to bloody not just one, but both knees and needed a bit of TLC. It felt so good to feel as though I could give her comfort for a change, though I slipped in my mom of the year ranks by not having one single band-aid in my purse. In fact, I had to borrow some from Cait who, "always has some in her bag" (insert #momfail here).
We cleaned up the knees, the kids played for hours, we took a long (and mildly scary) hay-ride that Nicholas loved, fed ducks, watched swarms of fishes, grabbed our free pumpkins and finally headed out on our way. I took a long nap on the way home, as did Nicholas and felt completely normal upon arriving at home.
The kitchen was a disaster (in my book), dinner needed to be made and Peter was working on the garage. All was well and happy and I even managed a few return phone calls to people. Then it happened (again). I hit that wall of "why me" and skipped dinner in favor of going to Trader Joe's by myself. I blindly put stuff in my basket, got back to the car and broke down again. For the life of me, I can't get past having surgery. Remember my control issues?
My breakdown resulted in more heated discussions (heated on my part, Pete was a saint, as usual) and a less than stellar night. I spewed ridiculous statements and spent way too much time on 'what-ifs'. I finally realized the evening was wasting away and relaxed enough to watch a bit of tv and, of course, fall asleep on the couch. I dragged myself up to bed, fell back asleep and woke up this morning realizing something…
I need moments. If you went through this diagnosis (or something similar), what was your moment? What made it finally click that you would be okay if you went through with surgery?
You see, I still don't see myself as being sick and I have realized that is a huge issue for me. Since I am not sick, I cannot get worse. If I am not sick, I should not have surgery, because I am really fine and thus, surgery is a huge mistake for a healthy person. I know all about the argument of having surgery to extend one's life, but I can't envision mine being shortened in the first place. So, it hit me this morning that I need to know more.
When did you (anyone afflicted with anything remotely similar that would require surgery to remove the affected body part) know for sure that it was the right decision for you? How did you finally decide to simply believe that something was truly wrong with you and it was okay to let the doctors proceed with their plan?
For the record, I don't necessarily doubt that the doctors have found something. However, everything has happened so quickly…and this diagnosis is affecting our lives in such a gargantuan way (Peter's current assignment, his future assignments), that I feel like I am being rushed to make a life and body altering decision…and what if I make the wrong choice? What if I just haven't Googled the right "magical non-surgical cure for breast cancer" search yet? What if there is something missing?
Or maybe I just need moments. Maybe I do have to suck it up and do this. Please share with me if you can…on-line, off-line, anywhere. I should add I have read a few moments, but more along the lines of the types of surgery vs. having the surgery in the first place. I apparently need a huge smack in the head to get me to where Peter (and the rest of the medical world) believe I should be with my thinking.
What was it that convinced you? Was there someone you spoke to about the issue (counselor, good online support group), a particular book, and/or an article that convinced you without either scaring your pants off and/or depressing you to the point of ignoring the situation? (And if you have already shared and I somehow missed it…please feel free to remind me!)
Wish I had some helpful advice. All I can say is, surgery won’t change the essence of who you are. You’ll still be the same wife, the same mom, the same spirit. If your doctors are telling you it needs to be done, trust them, not google. And trust that who you are truly is so much more than that. You grew those babies with the whole of you, with every fiber of your being, and they’ll love you any old way you turn out. I understand that there’s an emotional response here that just wouldn’t be in play if this were your liver, or your appendix, or your whatever. But the people who love you will love you whether or not you have surgery.
I can’t speak from personal experience, having not been emotionally attached to my wisdom teeth, but:
a) I second what Donna said.
b) the women I’ve talked to during or after their breast cancer ordeals really seem “over” the surgery, and more annoyed by the grind of the other testing and treatments, and relieved to get back to their lives when those ended. Admittedly, maybe they still had great grief over that and just didn’t tell me. I think asking other survivors is a good idea.
c) I know a little bit of the medical perspective. When I recommend a major, life-altering surgery for a pet (limb amputation seems the closest analogy,) it isn’t that I don’t appreciate the importance of the body part, or how (falsely) “safe” it feels to the client to do nothing when the patient has no symptoms. But I know what the disease can (and, left untreated, will almost always) do.
I would NEVER minimize your justified sense of grief, and wouldn’t advocate blind faith in any medical opinion you hear. (And don’t get me started on medical misinformation on the internet.) But I do believe their only agenda is keeping you around for a full, long life. And that the sacrifice (a big one, I know) will seem worth it down the road, even to you. Much love, whatever you decide.
Donna and Shannon that was wonderful, loved what you had to say!
Ah honey, I wish I could say I had an aha moment that stands out. It was more like an acceptance. I looked for those non surgery options too. If I had to pinpoint a moment I would say it was when my husband said he needed me, he wanted me HERE for him and for the kids. I don’t even take medicine unless I HAVE to but I accepted that this would be the best option to hopefully prolong my life. I was not okay with having the surgery. I was P***ED there wasn’t some other way! Three and a half years later, it’s still a process of acceptance. But I know in my heart I made the right choice. Maybe get a second opinion if you haven’t already. Gather all the facts (not from Google, trust me WALK AWAY!), gather all the opinions that matter and most importantly, trust yourself. I like to write pros and cons lists and it may sound funny to do it in this situation but it really helped me. It was my way of letting go and (here’s that word again) accepting the best choice for me.
From the sound of it they’re only recommending one type of surgery, right? Here are some questions to ask yourself: What are they saying could result if you opt not to have the surgery? Could you do chemo first to shrink the tumor(s) or are there too many? How aggressive is the cancer? What timeline for making this choice do you have? True you don’t have all the time in the world but you do have time. What reconstruction options are there? This is what I mean about gathering your arsenal. You’ve been ambushed, now how are you gonna kick the enemies butt? Lord help me I’ve been married to the military too long!!! Anyway Jen, I’ve never met you but I can tell you’re a fighter, you will have that moment and you will know what is best for you and your family. I made my choice and I have never looked back. Super big (((HUGS))) ~Laura
Not a first hand experience here but I will share something about my father’s throat cancer. His moment was pretty obvious to everyone. His tumor was so large that he had a hard time breathing, eating and sleeping. The doctors said that it had grown slowly for years (asymptomatically) but then for some reason it had become very aggressive and grown significantly within a couple of months to the point where it was literally choking him. It had to be removed immediately. As hard as it was to move forward, everyone understood it had to be done.
What was much harder for us and especially my father to come to terms with was that this tumor wasn’t caught earlier. We are talking about someone who he had had malignant tumors elsewhere in his body three years prior and had had regular checkups since. If it had been caught earlier, they might have been able to treat him with just chemo or radiation. Perhaps he didn’t have to lose his whole voice box and therefore his voice. But we will never know because by the time they found his tumor it was a stage 4 and about to suffocate him.
So, I guess what I am saying is, while waiting may seem like a good idea, things may get more complicated if you wait and treatment may become more difficult and involved. My intention is not to scare you because I know you are plenty scared already but I think with cancer, the earlier you can act the better.
I know this is an incredibly difficult decision for you. I hope you can find a support group of women with that diagnosis. Perhaps talking to them will help you make your decision and get through this very hard time.
Big hugs!
No help on “a moment” but I did think of you today. http://smallbitsfs.blogspot.com/2010/10/think-pink-as-in-bridges.html
You’re still in my thoughts and prayers.
I understand your desire to hear about others moments, but in the end, you have to come to peace with your decision to follow your doctors recommendations. I think you following up on our email exchange yesterday should definitely help with that. Sending you positive vibes…