A few weeks ago I had major surgery - unrelated to cancer, not to worry - and I can't help but notice how the whole experience took me right back to 2014 when I got a diagnosis of advanced melanoma. If you know me from those days you will remember my tales of traumatic surgeries, bizarre post-op procedures, life-saving immunotherapy treatments, and all that goes along with.
It is a head space that a cancer patient may endure for all or part of their journey, or they may go in and out of it as the situation strikes - our "Cancer Companion" as my therapist called it. When your Cancer Companion taps you on the shoulder, you may need to sit with them for a while, work through it, maybe hear them out, maybe tell them to piss off, but they will choose when they may leave again or come back. Might as well keep the kettle on the back burner as you never know when they could drop in for tea.
My cancer companion has found me here in my new home in northern British Columbia, where for the last few months I prepared to have a full abdominal hysterectomy. One benefit of regular CT scans for surveillance of melanoma (I have been N.E.D. for six years but will be monitored for life to check for recurrence) is that things can show up that one may not have know about otherwise. I have had some trouble with my "lady plumbing" for a couple of years now, nothing too crazy, or concerning enough to look into - I kind of assumed it was just related to peri-menopause. My Mom seems to get a particular chuckle out of telling me that I am "at about that age." Thanks Ma LOL
But when my new GP reported that I have lots of fibroids in my uterus, and we cross-referenced that with my ongoing situation of low iron/hemoglobin which has led to anemia, it seemed like the time had come to investigate further. I had been having some new tummy pains on top of the monthly aggravation, and some early steps to helping the anemia did give me more energy, so I agreed to a consult with a Gynecologist. 45 seems like a good time for a tune-up, right?
I'll spare you the gory details, but the Gyno did her exams and biopsies, and gave me a thorough and much-appreciated presentation on my options for remedying a fibroid uterus. Given all my variables a full hysterectomy sounded like the right option.
So I signed the consent forms, remembering all the paperwork I filled out to take part in the clinical trial at Sunnybrook in 2014, and sat back to relax until my year-long wait for a surgery date would come to fruition (thanks covid, for the extra delays in our health care system). On my way out of her office, the Gyno commented that if I was to end up in the hospital or have a blood transfusion to let her know, as that could shorten my surgery wait time.
Weird, I thought... why would I have to have a blood transfusion? And went on with my day.
Fast-forward a month from that time, to a night in early November. I was having a particularly tough time with my "cycle," and was taking a new-to-me drug from the Gyno to help with that. Apparently weird reactions or allergies to random drugs runs on my Mom's side of the family, and I ended up in the emergency room at 3am with the most severe abdominal cramping I have ever experienced. Like - worse than be in labour with and give birth to TWINS bad.
Poor Mike - my loving partner and reason I moved here to Prince George - not an ideal time to introduce you to this fabulous man, but I digress... Mike sped me to emerg (he happens to be an epic race car driver, actually) and advocated for me when I was unable to speak (Mike is also a melanoma survivor - he takes no guff!).
An hour or so in, bloodwork assessed, morphine running through veins, x-rays inconclusive, I was able to speak to the doctor while we waited for an emergency CT scan. She said my hemoglobin was dangerously low (hhmmm where had I heard that before..?) and she wanted to give me a unit of blood while we wait to see if I would need some sort of surgery or procedure to deal with this mystery lower-abdominal pain.
A blood transfusion? Must admit, that freaked me out. Not only did I feel that those are only for people in accidents or emergency situations, I was a bit weirded out by the thought of having someone else's blood given to me. If you recall, I have always been a supporter of blood donation and always wanted to give it - but it never occurred to me that I would ever be on the receiving end.
I'm happy to report that they were very careful about the procedure for this, testing my blood again for some sort of matching criteria, blood type etc., and then giving me a special green band with a code to match the labels on the pint that would arrive soon as my new gift. I was nervous but grateful.
One result of this however, was a phone call to my Gyno to let her know I had had to have a blood transfusion, and a subsequent iron infusion, so.... poof that got me on the emergency surgery list and I was scheduled for mid-December. *gulp* Surgery, full on. The goal of this hysterectomy is to get rid of the fibroid uterus, and with it any chance of random crazy pains, but also to stop the extreme monthly loss of hemoglobin and give my body a chance to fix the anemia.
So here I sit, 3.5 weeks post-op, comfortably tucked in and recovering well in the grand scheme, pampered by Dr. Mike. Can't help but have some mega deja vu though, after a major surgery with all that time to stare at the ceiling between pain-med-induced naps I couldn't help but remember all that I/we went through years ago. And I have the exact same feeling of that in-between and frustrating phase of starting to feel better but still not being quite up to snuff... no driving, reduced work capacity, etc. This surgery requires a full eight weeks recovery, no heavy lifting and all that stuff. No snow shoveling either - bad timing with this PG winter!
While I rest and recover, figure out some adjustments in my career (more on that later), and reflect on "life after cancer" I find myself here, blogging. Hello old friend! If you only knew how much credit you deserve for getting me through 2014-2016 wowww... you are amazing. I think of you all the time but never give us time to spend together. Well guess what - 2022 is our year. :-)
Might have to re-name this blog to "Menopause, Melanoma, and making it to my Maserati" haha! But we shall see... and of course I'll keep you posted. My desire to share (bitch about) medical experiences is never far from the surface, and of course has served as a perfect segue back into writing here on my blog. Thanks for reading! (apparently I have not lost my long-windedness)
And thank you to my gorgeous grown-up girls who have been a huge support from a distance. It was weird for us to be so far apart during this recent hospital event, when they were so entwined in the past. But they are excelling at their exciting Toronto lives, and we are always connected by skype (yes, people still use that), TikTok, and bank account haha. They connected with Mike too - I suspect they warned him of my post-surgery whiny-ness and consoled him by text, though he is a champ caregiver and claims I was angelic and wonderful. Ahh love... 😇 😍 Thank you Mike 💖
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