Twists & Turns

Just before Jason's surgery. 

 When you share your life story, it is hard to determine just what to hold back and what to tell those around you, even those that want to listen. It’s been easy in sharing Maddy’s story, on my Maddy’s Seven Year Itch peanut desensitization page, because that one is easy. Our daughter has recently 'overcome' her peanut allergy that she’s had all of her life. She’s been insanely brave - to eat the very thing that was poison to her in order to trick her body into tolerating it. The whole process was completed with a board certified allergist and has been a blessing for our family, especially for her – no more worry of losing her to a peanut or cross-contamination with peanut butter! That story has been nothing short of miraculous, pretty easy to tell, really! Our cancer story, on the other hand has not been easy, a little more delicate and quite difficult to tell. It has been downright hard at times, actually. Right from the get-go it has been a difficult process – an emotional roller coaster with twists, turns, and lots of highs and lows -  with plenty of stops for maintenance, too!

The whirlwind of events after Jason’s colon resection surgery was unreal. The first thing we needed to do was find an oncologist that could help us create a plan for Jason’s wellness. The tumor that had invaded Jason’s body was a pretty rotten thing – about the size of a walnut, had invaded the colon wall, entered the surrounding lymph nodes, and as we would find out later - had spread to other organs in the body. This disease had not just attacked Jason’s colon; it attacked our life and we needed to prepare ourselves for a fight!

Dr. Carol Rapson of Red Cedar Oncology came highly recommended. We’d had some bad luck with doctors recently, so even as high as our hopes were for her, our expectations were low. We went in thinking and knowing that if we didn't like her or didn't like the plan, we’d walk away. Jason’s health is simply too important, our family too important, for us to mess around with incompetent doctors. Fortunately, though, that is not at all what we found there.

August 2009. 

Before this diagnosis, Jason and I finally felt that we had a few things in our life figured out – Maddy, nearing four years old, wanted a sibling and after unlocking the combination on some fertility issues, we were ready to expand our little family. We’d been in our careers for a number of years by that time and Jason was ready to try for a promotion. We were to the point in our lives, finally, that we could maybe start a few projects in our home and had even gotten a family dog just the previous year. We were settling into our lives. Cancer not only was disrupting that entirely but we didn't have a cancer plan - who does? Dr. Rapson looked at us and immediately understood what mattered to us and knew that we were concerned for our future.

Unfortunately, that plan had to include a few other surgeries, a number of other doctors and specialists and a lot of discussion. A lot of big discussions about the future of our family. Here’s where we start to get into those delicate details that may make people uncomfortable. Flashback to Dr. McKenna, ‘local surgeon extraordinaire.’ When we had gone to him we had great big hopes, obviously. He also had been recommended to us by both our family doctor and a family member who’d asked her friends for personal referrals. We felt comfortable with this move but also felt rushed as this tumor ate away at Jason’s colon. As I said in my last blog entry, this surgeon let us know about possible complications of the colon resection surgery during our consultation appointment. The only complications he spoke of were ones related to frequency and urgency in using the bathroom. I specifically asked him about complications of this surgery and he said that the only complications Jason would have were these, and then continued to speak of the surgery specifics. As we went in to the surgery less than a week later, we never considered the fact that we would need to think about the future of our family or that this particular surgery would or could alter that outcome.

As it turned out, Jason’s surgeon neglected to mention to us a fairly common complication of his colon resection surgery – nerve damage. I’ll spare you the specific details of what it means exactly for him, just know that Dr. McKenna’s slip up in the operating room, took away our chance to expand our little family naturally. This nerve damage never occurred to us. At. All. At this time, with everything else going on, it was another blow. Another dip on that roller coaster ride. There were so many slopes that this ride was turning my stomach more and more and more than anything, I just wanted to get off the ride.

June 2009 - Our little family!

The fact that Jason was about to begin chemotherapy meant that his reproductive health could be compromised anyway, that was clear, and as Dr. Rapson would suggest later, arrangements should be made in case his fertility became affected anyway, but Dr. McKenna created issues that made this a much more complicated, difficult, and a far more expensive situation. This surgeon, took something away from us much quicker than we anticipated and without letting us know any options before we could make plans. We set up a meeting with a urologist and another surgery was scheduled and completed. Again, we found our hopes, and options were not made clear and as I found out – after the surgery and much too late, our ‘bank’ is not as much as I’d hoped. Enough for a few rounds of in vitro fertilization, certainly not enough for artificial insemination – think test tube vs. turkey baster. Test tubes are much more expensive and take much more ‘bank’ than turkey basters and when you have no ‘bank,’ (either sperm or money), than your options are limited. Our roller coaster was looking to have far more downs than ups. 

At that point we had to let the ride keep moving,though,  even if it was a little shaky and simply not what we were expecting, Jason’s health, and the happiness of the child we had at home were of the utmost importance. So, we counted our blessings and we moved on; and we continue to count them each day as our journey, our roller coaster ride, continues. We knew that we needed to figure out the next step for his well-being and start chemotherapy. We would determine what was right for us and our family as life happened.  Little did we know that we would be hopping on and off this roller coaster ride a number of times in the next couple of years. That is the way living with cancer works, though. Heck, that is the way life works – it keeps surprising you, twists and turns and all!