April 14th...

I know it's the 8th but I will likely forget later.

On April 14th of last year I had some pretty major surgery. In fact, I have a thick scar from my ribs to my belly button and a few smaller drain hole scars too to show for it. The 6 months or so before that day were hellish. I woke up early one morning to the pain I had been dealing with for a few months already being MUCH worse. So bad I gave in and let J take me to the emergency room. I could barely breathe and thought I was going to be sick it hurt so bad. They gave me a CAT scan, they were looking for kidney stones or something but instead found a very large growth on my pancreas...

To say I was scared to death would be an understatement. I was convinced that I had cancer and was going to die. I looked at my baby sleeping soundly in his stroller from my bed and saw his entire life flash before my eyes, and I was not in it. Well, it's not like I was imagining it, there was a HUGE growth on my pancreas and nobody knew what it was. J was scared too. I could see it in his eyes though he was staying strong and telling me I was fine.

A second CAT scan, with contrast this time, showed it to be a fluid filled cyst, not a solid mass. Things were looking better. They took me that morning to mini-surgery and inserted a drain into my abdomen. My drain and I were released after a few days; I got to carry that bulb around with me for a week before they removed it. Which was one of the creepiest feelings in the world by the way.

Everything was fine for a couple weeks but the pain in my side started to come back, I was starting to get full easier again and it was harder to breathe. The cyst was after all pressing on and squashing my stomach and lungs. Another CAT scan confirmed that it, now affectionately named Humphrey, was back and would have to be removed.

I was sent to a pancreatic cancer doctor in downtown Houston. One of the best in the state and the director of surgery at a prominent med school. I was still nervous though. We didn't know why it kept coming back, or what exactly it was and wouldn't until the pathology results were back following the surgery, prior tests had been fairly inconclusive or incomplete.

I wasn't allowed to eat anything solid for a couple days prior to the 14th. I also had to do a bowl cleanse which was wonderful, as I am sure you can imagine. My surgery was set for fairly in the morning, but there was of course a hold up with the insurance (isn't there always!?!). I was so scared that that was a sign not to go through with this right then. This was major surgery, 6+ hours long and I was pretty much convinced I was going to die while anesthetized. I had an allergic reaction to the antibiotic they gave me in the prep room and my head was SO itchy, my body was on fire. I thought that was another sign and was silently FREAKING out.

I remember going into the operating room and being moved onto the heated table. I thought that was a nice touch lol 6 or so hours later I woke up in recovery in the worst pain I have ever felt in my life. The morphine and whatever else they had me on did NOT even come close to touching the pain. And they wouldn't let J stay with me which made me freak out even more and start hyperventilating because I couldn't breathe, it felt like someone had punched me in the ribs, a couple hundred times... with a brick.

I was sent to the ICU so they could keep a close eye on me. It was there that I saw what they had done. Oh. My.... wow. That honestly was something I wasn't prepared for. I mean, they did a good job putting me back together but I didn't expect such a big... hole. Turns out the initial incision they had made wasn't big enough to get Humphrey out of so they had to extend it. No wonder my ribs felt broken.

They ended up removing Humphrey, the end of my pancreas as well as my spleen. The good news was though that it had come back and was not cancerous though it was the kind that could become cancerous given the opportunity so we had done the right thing by removing it rather than draining it again.

That night I couldn't breathe. They kept trying to move me and wouldn't listen to me when I tried to talk. I couldn't breathe because I couldn't expand my ribs! But they insisted on a chest x-ray which required me to sit up in bed and bend at the middle after just being cut open. I almost lost it on those nurses. What didn't they understand about my being in some serious pain??... the morphine still wasn't working.

After a day or two I was moved to a general ward and that was even worse. At least in the ICU I had nurses always there. I pretty much had to fend for myself in the normal ward. I would call them to help me to the bathroom and no one would come. And I couldn't do it on my own. I had to have blood tests numerous times a day, and they were awful at getting the needle in properly, they eventually just started sending the IV techs in instead of normal nurses. I had 2 IVs in my wrist that hurt like a ... one of my wrists swelled up and that one was removed, only to have another one crappily put in. They were checking my blood sugar levels almost hourly because my pancreas was all in a tizzy and that sucked too. I have a whole new respect for diabetics who have to do that every day of their lives. At the end of the first day in that ward I just couldn't take it anymore, I had called and called for someone to help me to the bathroom and to bring me medication and nobody came. I called J in tears. He arranged for his sister to watch P overnight and drove the almost 2 hour drive to stay the night with me so he could help me to the bathroom overnight. I couldn't have done it without him. It was nice to have the company too and I missed my baby terribly! I was even trying to pump through all of this to keep my supply up. Only to have him reject the breast when I finally got home almost a week later. I think that hurt more than the surgery!

So, like I said, a week later I was home and all set up in our big squishy bed. J and his mum even bought me a TV for the bedroom so I wouldn't be bored to tears. We would sit and watch Gilmore Girls episodes for hours. And I had my baby back. I was on pain medication, pancreatic enzymes to help me digest my food as my pancreas was essentially in shock and shut down for a bit and aspirin to keep my blood levels under control; the spleen plays a role in blood clotting so it was important that my blood was thinned so as to avoid a dangerous clot.

At 6 weeks post surgery I was doing really well. I was still having some digestive issues but I no longer needed the aspirin, the rest of my body had kicked in to take over the job of the missing pieces and was doing well. And I was alive. And able to enjoy life again, for the first time in months. Well, almost. The whole ordeal left me so anxious and paranoid about my health that I had to take anxiety medication for a while... being depressed and convinced you are going to die for months can really do a number on your mental health. It is hard to just get out of a funk like that, know what I mean? I am still getting there in that respect but I am off the medication now.

What a rollercoaster ride. We still don't know why a 20 year old pancreas would do this but I am trying to keep the pancreas I have left as healthy as possible, which partially explains our un-processed, chemical free lifestyle and diet. My pancreas obviously doesn't need a reason to misbehave so I am not going to give it one!

So, what's my point? I dunno! To celebrate the first year anniversary of Humphrey's removal and a year of being pain free and ALIVE!?! To thank my husband for his love and support? And for helping me pee when no one else would? LOL ... or maybe I just wanted the attention ;) I just wish I didn't have this giant scar down my middle but I guess it is a small price to pay :)

Now, how should we mark the occasion on  Wednesday?