Monday, July 16, 2018

I Didn't See That One Coming

I am usually pretty good at anticipating consequences, but  I definitely didn't see this coming.  In a previous blog, I was happy to report that my PET scan looked clean, and I was good to go. However, life often has a funny way of pulling the rug out from under us when we least expect it.  Despite the fact that my scan looked good, my abdominal area still continued to bother me.  Pretty much everything that I have eaten has made me feel queasy and less than great.  After visiting several of my docs and after I had taken several prescriptions, I was still not feeling much better.  Finally, on Thursday morning when I woke up, my stomach really hurt, and I was doubled over with stomach cramps. Even though I hate the idea of going to the Emergency Room, I was at a point where I didn't know what else to do.
                      Hi, ho, hi ho, it's off to the er we go.

Once we got to the hospital,  I had the usual rounds of tests, and still the docs and the techs could not figure out what the heck was going on. My first doc said that since there didn't seem to be anything that he could see, he thought it might be a good idea for me to spend the night in the hospital for observation--just in case.  So, I agreed.  Interestingly enough, by mid-afternoon, the hospitalist in charge came in and went over my charts again.  Then he casually said that he saw some evidence of cancer (in the stomach lining).  Well, now!  While I realize that cancer is the gift that keeps on giving, this was a gift that I hadn't expected.  That evening the head of the colorectal team came in, and after going over all of my options (such as they are), we decided that he would perform a colostomy and then send the nodes to pathology to find out what my next steps need to be.  Well, there you are.

Since I have a pretty good sized incision in my abdomen now, my most immediate task at hand is learning how to get out of bed with the grace of a beached whale.  On top of this, the new fangled beds at the hospital yell at me.  THE CARE TEAM IS COMING!  DO NOT GET OUT OF BED!  Geez, first it was Siri, then Alexa, and now hospital Hannah bossing me around.

So now my goals are to learn how to deal with my new circumstances of living with a colostomy bag.  I have heard that they come in many shapes and sizes and designs;  I am hoping to find a Cubs' design.  I also need to learn how to get in and of bed without pulling out my staples and screaming in pain.  The good news is that I have been to this rodeo before, so I pretty much know the chemo drill--even if it is slightly different this time.

Despite being served yet another crap sandwich, I have to admit that I am luckier than most people.  I have loving and supportive family and friends who have been doing much to help with my recovery.  I have a strong will, and I have lots of good reasons to keep putting one foot in front the other and keep on trucking.  

It's just another Manic Monday!


  1. Oh man. So sorry to hear that. I thought you were quiet on FB. �� Wishing you a speedy recovery.

  2. I hate to hear this, but love your spirit. I have a few design idea for a C-bag instead of tainting the Cubs good name. ��

  3. Hang in there. You are one tough cookie.

  4. I read everything you write, and don't always comment, but please know that you are my hero. Your deep roots as an educator are so obvious in your blogs--because education is all about dealing creatively and even optimistically with one crap sandwich after another. Thinking of you and wishing you healing.

  5. Oh, Phyllis, so very sorry that you continue to ride this distressing roller coaster. Hopes and prayers for smooth and speedy treatment and a full recovery.

  6. Prayers for relief from pain and speedy healing. May you be Enfolded in God's love.

  7. This post makes my head and heart hurt. Please know you are in my thoughts most inspirational and brave woman. Hang in there. Feel free to cuss a lot.