Recovery, day one: Check.
Tuesday, September 30th, 2008My mom was diagnosed with ovarian cancer about a week and a half ago. It was a total surprise and my family have been reeling a bit as the reality has set in. An ultrasound confirmed our fears: that the cancer was aggressive and had spread throughout her abdominal cavity, but that the doctor wouldn’t be able to answer our most serious questions until after a massive, invasive surgery.
Well, that surgery was today. In pre-op, she was absolutely amazing. She had the whole team of doctors and nurses laughing. I have never seen anyone so brave. She was in the OR for almost 7 hours while a team of surgeons removed something like 40 tumors (one the size of a coconut), did a full hysterectomy, and took out her appendix, spleen, and a portion of her colon. When the gynecologic oncologist met Dad and I in the waiting room afterward, he was almost grinning and called her post-surgery condition “optimal.”
Now, in this new world of cancer, good news is all relative. In this case, news can be good while Mom is still not cancer-free. Here, “optimal” means that the docto met his goal of removing every tumor with a diameter of 1 cm or larger. He feels confident that the smaller ones will respond to chemo. In this world, good news means it’s still a long, scary haul.
When the doctor left, Dad and I collapsed into tears. We were grateful, relieved, and exhausted. And I know we were thinking the same thing: Thank God I don’t have to figure out how to live without my best friend.