Hiatus

I feel like I am constantly being tested, like there is some bigger force laughing at me and throwing hardballs at my face.

Two weekends ago Josh and I took a trip to Albany so that he could sign his lease. He’ll be going to Albany Law starting in August and so I wanted to see his place and the town that he’ll be living in. It was a gorgeous day and drive. We pull up to the house, park, I get out of the car, turn around, and close the car door with my right arm…

…SNAP! I feel the bones in my arm glide past each other and settle themselves into an awful place. The sensation I felt is one I can’t even explain, I didn’t see stars but I froze for a while and knew right away what had happened and began screaming to Josh. By the time the paramedics came I was sobbing and shaking. And not so much because of the pain but because of what my surgeon told me in my consultation; “Whatever you do, do NOT break this arm or it will make it very difficult to save through surgery. “ His words just kept on spinning and spinning around in my head as they pumped me up with morphine and a stranger was rubbing my back.

They took me to the hospital and then they had me transported to Sloan. Being that far away from home in a hospital that doesn’t really know Oncology or my case had me pretty frustrated with everyone that handled me. “Oh its just a broken arm don’t worry we’ll cast you right up.” No, you don’t understand…

My surgeon came by my hospital bed the next morning to talk to me. He told me news that made me sick to my stomach. He explained that I broke my arm right across the tumor, which means that cancer cells are free to roam about my body and that I now have a greater chance of the cancer returning after my full surgery and treatment. He also told me that he will still try and save my arm but now there is a greater chance that it may not be successful and that amputation could become more of a possibility.

I lost it.

My Oncologist heard that I was having a hard time with the news and came by to comfort me. He told me to calm down because the case described by my surgeon is more likely for someone that hasn’t gone through chemo yet. I’d had 7 rounds of chemo at the time this happened. Some people even discover that they have Osteosarcoma by doing simple things like reaching up to put dishes away which results in a break. The bone on/near the tumor just becomes so brittle.

I will lighten this up a little…

I had a full round of tests done in prep for my surgery. This is routine to see how your tumor is reacting to chemo, and also to see if the cancer has spread. They do x-rays, a chest scan, and a full bone scan. The bone scan is the most telling for my condition since I have bone cancer. The wait for the results of these scans are pure hell.

Yesterday I met up with my surgeon again. He has a special office where he meets with patients. There are only a few chairs, awkward lighting, and a computer on his desk with a stack of dusty magazines that I would bet haven’t been read in years. The wait was all too quiet and I felt like my heart was going to jump out of my chest.

He came in, “Hey stranger!” and shook my hand. He sat down with his assistant and said “I have good news”, and smiled. My heart fell back into my chest. He said my bone scan was clean and that he is so happy with the progress of my arm. The tumor has shrunk even more and this will make the surgery so much easier to perform. He mentioned that even though I have a break, he is very positive and is confident that he should be able to work around the break. The only somewhat negative is that I am pretty much on house arrest until and after the surgery. I can deal with that. Also I have a nodule in my lungs that we are still uncertain of. They saw this early on too, but even “normal” people get nodules on their lungs that are absolutely nothing. He said he is not too concerned with that right now, but that we will look at it closer after my arm surgery.

Mom, dad and I left his office with color in our cheeks.

Lots of crazy things went on in the hospital for the 11 days that we were there, but the most memorable is from a woman we’ve named Dipsy-doodle. They have people that come in every few hours to check your vitals while you’re in-patient. They wake you up in the middle of the night with no shame to poke your ear with a thermometer, put that odd clipper on your finger to measure your oxygen level, and take your blood pressure. They had to take my blood pressure on my leg rather than my arm because both are out of commission. The right being broken and the left with huge bruises, swollen & sore, and a scary Amazon-rainforest-looking rash from my veins being infiltrated by the IV’s being left in too long. The crease of my arm is so bruised and punctured – I resemble a heroin addict.

Back to Dipsy-doodle…

DD: [Places the blood pressure thing around my leg] “WOW!!! You have the smoothest legs! They are so soft. What razor do you use??

Me: [stares at her quietly]: I don’t shave.

DD: [Eyes widen] Oh where do you get them waxed?

Me: I don’t.

DD: [“thinks” some more] Oh, laser hair removal?

Me: [Pause. Deep breath.] CHEMOTHERAPY.

DD: [Smacks her head] OHHH hehe.

Pardon my French but what a fucking dolt. You work at a cancer hospital, are you serious?

I couldn't help but share this with my nurses. I didn't know her name but they knew exactly who I was talking about right away and were cracking up. There are more incidents with her but this was the best.

Anyway, keep throwing hardballs at my face. I’ve got a big ‘ol mitt.