Surgery and the Lead- Up

Photo taken about 1 month after surgery (me and my daughter)

I am going to forewarn you, my reader, that this blog may be long. I have been waiting to write this one. You'll learn, if you have cancer, or if you know someone that does, that survivors don't like to relive these moments, the painful moments. But in order to take you, the reader, to an understanding of why my life is forever changed for the better, because of cancer, I must go back to the most painful moment of my life, both physically and spiritually.

Around my 44th birthday, I scheduled my surgery to take place the Wednesday after Labor Day, September 5, 2018. Up until one week prior to surgery, I was eating Aleve and Advil like candy to take away the pain I was in. If you remember from my last blog, I kept that pain level hidden from everyone...until I couldn't. At my pre-op appointment, they informed me of all these instructions regarding food, liquids and medications. One of them was to immediately stop taking NSAIDS (you know Aleve and Advil). They told me to take Tylenol instead (and then after I complained of severe pain less than 24 hours later, I was given Percocet). Well Tylenol with Oxy (Percocet) works on pain for like maybe a couple of hours, but doesn't do anything for the reason you are in pain. The NSAIDS were reducing the swelling (which surgery would highlight all the areas swollen with cancer).

When you are going to have a hysterectomy, you plan your life for those 6 weeks that you are recuperating, by cleaning, organizing at work, organizing and planning for the after-care. I had my last week prior to surgery to do that stuff, but it didn't happen. I couldn't stand, sit, sleep, walk. I lived to take my next dose of Percocet. I knew then that my surgery was going to reveal something worse than the anticipated Stage One little baby cancer they thought I had. Pain like that is so intense that it had me question suicide. I just knew I was going to die. So then my plans went from organizing prior to surgery, to I want to see my daughter one last time. She will never know what I did to make it to see her that Sunday. I traveled with my boyfriend. He was traveling to see his daughter at UVA and from there we would go to West Virginia to see my daughter. My medications they gave me for pain had a 6 hour relief window and an 8 hour dosing window. I had that trip nailed to the exact hours so that she would not see me in pain. I was in anguish sitting for the 2 hours to Richmond to stop and see my step-dad, the 2 hours to eat with him, the 2 hours to UVA, and I wanted to be a good girlfriend and watch the game with Mark, but the pain and the passing of blood were too much for me to handle. He went to the game. I went to the Hotel.

I laid in the tub (hot water was the only thing that soothed me) and seriously thought about taking my own life. Again, I just knew I was going to die anyway on the surgery table. A couple of random things happened while I was in that tub (we all know now, nothing is random). Brittany called me and her best friend, Mandy was texting me. Both of them made reference to coming home over the Winter Holidays and seeing me then. Both of them were talking future plans, and the suicide thoughts ended for that night. I was able to eat and slept maybe 4 hours, all in preparation to drive another 4 hours to see Brittany. Halfway to see her, I cheated and took an 800mg Motrin. I told Mark, that if I died because of it, so be it. I was going to see my child. I risked everything left in me to get to her because her school was not allowing or maybe the better word is not supporting her need to come home and be with me, and before I died on any surgical table, I wanted her to look me in the eyes when I said "you are my everything and I love you more than life".

By the time we got to her campus, the motrin and percocet were in full gear and I told Mark that I had maybe 3 hours of good feeling left. We ate lunch, talked and I let her see me as normal. Then when we took her back to campus and I had to say goodbye...well it was absolutely the hardest thing I ever had to do. I didn't want to let her go. I didn't want to see her cry. I couldn't stop crying. In one breath I am telling her about insurance policies, banking accounts, etc. and in the other breath I am telling her that everything would be fine...and then I think I told her I didn't have a good feeling about the outcome. We both cried.

Pulling away from campus was painful. I started quietly crying. We hit the mountains and I started balling. I started confessing to Mark that I knew I was going to die, because I was a sinner and was undeserving of being saved. I started calling out all of my sins. I confessed that I was too far gone to even pray for myself. THAT'S RIGHT I DID NOT PRAY FOR MYSELF. I am sure he was thinking who is this person sitting next to me and how do I get her out of my vehicle. I cried out of sorrow and pain the 6 hours it took to get home.

The day before surgery was HELL, due to me having to stop taking all pain medications by midnight. I didn't sleep, because the last pain medicine I took at 11:59 p.m. only lasted until 3am. So from 3am until about 8am I crawled, climbed, rolled, bathed, rocked, walked, cried...I yelled at God...everything I could do to make it to the hospital. The pain was so bad. To all my readers that have been in pain before, I am talking pain worse than toothache, worse than labor pain, this was beyond a 10 on their happy face scale. This was DEATH. I was so relieved to make it to the hour in which my former father-in-law arrived to pick me up (and my Aunt). My Aunt told me to call ahead and tell them how much pain I was in. I did. I must have looked stricken with agonizing pain, because I think I only sat in the lobby like 10 minutes.

In the pre-op room, where you clean off, gown up and wait to be rolled to Surgery. I couldn't sit still for the nursed to do anything with me. They had my aunt come back with me (I guess they were hoping she could calm me down). They called me in some Morphine (that's right people - the all powerful Morphine) and about 20 minutes later it arrived. They shot that in my veins and like a minute later I saw panic in my Aunt's face. She said "you didn't feel that?" I told her that I was in the same pain. They ordered me another shot and 10 minutes later my 10+ pain went to about an 8. Which meant I could lay in the bed and look at the people in the room for the first time in days...I could focus on things other than pain. I gave my Aunt and father-in-law notes (told them not read them until "after"). Each one was last-thoughts note - what to do, who to call if things went bad. Then my boss came into the room. A few minutes later they were wheeling me into surgery. In the travels, they gave me a shot of something that numbed me, but I still could feel the swelling sensation.

I was than introduced to my "Anesthesia team" and they gave me a shot....and then I was out....

I know this is a lot to take in. My own thoughts of ending it all because of pain, yet our Lord and savior suffered a far worse and painful death. Some of you might question me when I say I was unable to pray for myself, but I was. I only remember talking to God the morning of surgery and it was a desperate cry to stop the pain. I was not praying for any eternal or soul saving relief.

At the moment I got that shot that put me out, I was a broken, broken, broken woman with no faith, no hope and no salvation. I was willing myself to die. I had prepared to die. There was not light at the end of the tunnel. Just death.

My heart was bitter.

Proverbs 19:3 The foolishness of man ruins his way, and his heart rages against the Lord.

But my savior, Jesus, he was watching.

1 Peter 4:1 Therefore, since Christ suffered in his body, arm yourself also with the same attitude, because whoever suffers in the body is done with sin.

Thank you for reading, have a blessed week!


Facts about cancer pain (and if you are in pain - SPEAK TO YOUR DOCTOR)
https://www.cancer.org/treatment/treatments-and-side-effects/physical-side-effects/pain.html