Mike and I dropped off the boys at school and came right to the hospital. Down in the basement (which always makes me laugh, but the reasons are good – you wouldn’t want radiology and MRIs on the main floor!) I was called back fairly quickly, had my procedure explained and then they got right to it. It was nice to be early for a change. Of course, it didn’t help me get admitted any faster…

The central line in my neck was uncomfortable, but not painful. The worst part was the pinch and burn of the numbing drugs. 10 minutes later, I was told I could get dressed and go up to admitting. The nurse at that point had the sense of humor of a snail and was very serious about warning us not to leave the hospital and to never wander around aimlessly. Oy. Luckily that was our last interaction with her!

Admitting had no room for me, so we set out to wait. We had lunch, we napped, we wandered the halls, we waited. And then we waited more. Finally, at almost 3, we were sent upstairs. Sadly, no private room for me, BUT the person that was here left and what arrived was a beautiful 18 year who is on her 6th round of chemo for lymphoma and is laughing and living her life. She’s inspiring and I’m glad they chose my room for her to be in!

My first dose of the IL-2 was fine….for about an hour and a half…then I was struck with a terrible migraine and major chills. A couple of meds, warm blankets and a nap later, I was feeling better.

My blood pressure is holding steady, and my nausea is controlled (in part, thanks to my trusty stash of mini saltines!)

My next round is scheduled for midnight, with pre-meds at 10:30. Hoping the next dose goes as well as this one did, instead of worse. FINGERS CROSSED.

They’re pumping fluids into me and Dr. L warned me that I will balloon up a bit this week. FUN! Seriously, if that is the worst, I will take it!!

Stay tuned for more adventures from Room 125!

But I can’t.

I know I’ll be fine, but in the back of my mind I want to be prepared.

Then today, while we were driving home from appointments, I realized that Mike is exactly the guy I want raising my kids, teaching them the important things in life, traveling to places we all dream about. He’s the guy and if, god forbid, something happens, I have absolute faith that he knows what to do. And I told him so.

No letter necessary. (Thank god, because seriously, I couldn’t stop sobbing each time I tried!)

———————-

The outpouring of support for me lately has been amazing. Unbelievable, really. People from all of the US, Canada and other countries are sending love and prayers and good thoughts. At least three churches have me on their prayer lists. It’s crazy and oh so nice.

———————–

My friend Sunshine wrote a beautiful blog post today for/about me. Dammit if she didn’t make me cry!

———————–

My surgery tomorrow is at noon and is supposed to last 3-4 hours.  Looks like I’ll be in the hospital about 3-5 days.  As much as I realized that this surgery was more extensive and the nodes were deeper, I guess I was either fooling myself or not thinking about it much. The surgeon is great. She showed Mike all of my scans so he could see exactly what she was talking about. I was a little surprised (ok, freaking shocked) that she’s doing a vertical incision from my belly button down instead of going in through my leg or c-section scar area. Wake up call, anyone??  They’re taking lymph nodes, my right ovary and anything else that looks wrong, hehe. She also mentioned (and showed us) that my uterus is all squished over to one side, so that’s interesting!

I’ll certainly have Mike keep everyone posted on Twitter and FB; hopefully I’ll update here sooner than later.

It turns out that the CT scan I had on Monday showed not only the [supposed] ovarian cyst still there, but also about 5 enlarged lymph nodes.  They are all in one area of the lower abdomen, so that’s “good” news. Lungs, heart, rest of torso all looked good on the scan.

What does it mean, you ask? Well, it means a needle biopsy in the next couple of weeks to see what little secrets the lymph nodes that are swollen are keeping.  Could be melanoma again, could be…well, something else. If it’s melanoma, then surgery is in my near future (again). And we go from there.  I’m certainly not ready to start looking beyond the biopsy.  I know what’s out there, but I am not crossing that bridge before we get to it, thank you very much.

I also have a MRI scheduled for Wednesday – they’re gonna check out my brain (and make sure it’s still there, I guess). I don’t mind the MRI so much, especially since I do appreciate its life saving properties.

This has certainly not been the most fantastic week.

Monday – sick boy, nearly missed the CT scan, CT contrast hang-over.

Tuesday – Mike’s grandpa not doing well (he passed away peacefully after midnight)

Wednesday – Blocked call shows up on my phone so I don’t answer it. Oops. Thus began the Phone Watch 2012 and the continued phone calls to the cancer clinic. Rough night of sleep.

Thursday – oy with the waiting all day. No call, poor sleep.

Friday – continued waiting. Shopping for funeral clothes. Dreary weather.

And finally the not so happy phone call(s). Which of course resulted in the phone calls to my moms and dad. OY.

Can I start drinking now?

P.S. 3 years ago we didn’t really talk to the kids about it more than saying I had some sick pieces of my body that needed to be removed. Guess I really have to talk to them if this goes beyond biopsy, eh? Dammit.

Now, if someone could hurry up and make decent tasting contrast, I’d be golden.