Out With the Old

Here in the first minutes of a brand-new year I find myself a little reluctant to commit to words everything that's in my heart and mind.  This last month has been the suckiest one in a year of sucky months, and I am ready for a fresh start in ways I've never been before.  So in the interest of starting the new year on a brand-new page, here's how 2006 ended.  Needless to say, I'm glad to see the last of it.

The day after this post I went for a CAT scan, which showed a large mass in my abdomen.  Though I didn't realize it at the time, that mass was trying its level best to kill me.  It was almost completely blocking my entire lower GI system, leaving only about a half-inch opening for my body to rid itself of waste.  All of the nutrients in my food were being absorbed to feed this mass, putting me very near starvation level.  My hemoglobin level was 7 (normal is 15).  I was advised by the PA at the Community Health Center to get my ass to the emergency room right away.

After several hours in the ER I was admitted and immediately hooked up to IV antibiotics.  I was told I had severe diverticulitis and near crisis-level infection.  The night was very short; the parade of medical personnel started about 3:00 AM.  By day's end I'd given untold vials of blood and had three X-rays, an EKG, two units of blood, and a PICC line installed in order to receive TPN.  I wasn't allowed to eat actual food, and could only have water and ice chips.  Oh, and Percoset.  Lots and lots of Percoset.

Six days after I was admitted I had surgery to remove the mass, and my colon was removed, too.  Not diverticulitis, as it turned out, but stage IV colon cancer, which means that lymph nodes (and possibly other organs) are involved.  The next week was spent trying to wrap my head around this enormous news and waiting for my bowels to wake up so that I could eat.  Eating solid food (and keeping it down) was my ticket home.

It took much longer than expected and on the seventh day after my surgery I was as sick as any human being has ever been, mind, body and soul.  But that day was the turning point, and every day I've gotten a little stronger, a little further along the road to recovery from the surgery.  I was finally allowed to come home on Christmas Eve, and there will never be a more beautiful sight than that of my son flying out the front door to meet me, yelling, "MAMA!" at the top of his lungs.

I'm scared, and I'm mad as hell, and about a million different other things, but I would be terribly remiss if I didn't mention that I'm also humbled and awed and so very grateful to my family and friends, who have enveloped me in so much love and positive energy that its sheer force could almost carry me through. 

I am going to Chapel Hill on Thursday for my first consultation with an oncologist, at which time I'll learn what treatment options are available.  This has been a huge blow, but I'm determined to do what's necessary to beat this.  I don't know if I will be writing about it here or if I will have another journal for that purpose.  It's taken me a whole week to be able to write this post, but I am aware of the healing power of the writing process, and I'm going to need it in the weeks to come.  Whether I keep it here or move it elsewhere, I hope those of you who have been hanging out with me will continue to do so.

And no matter to whom you pray, mention my name from time to time, just to keep it fresh in the mind of The Higher Power.

Happy New Year, my friends.

Comments

[laurie]

Terrilynn;

I've never posted in your comments, but I've followed your blog for a few months now since I discovered sea pictures you posted awhile back.
Just know that there are prayers for your complete return to health being said way up north this minute.

[javajeanelaine]

t-l, you are in my prayers and thoughts.

[Karen]

Oh Terry, I don't even know what to say. I hope you get good news from the oncologist -- and that this will indeed be a HAPPY new year for you and Liam. {{hugs}}

[Leanne]

I am so sorry. Sorry that this is happening to you, sorry that you found out the way you did. I can't imagine how you must feel, but know that if I lived closer, I would do whatever I could to help you through it. I pray for strength and endurance for you, please remember you're in my prayers, too.

xox

[Lisa V]

Oh my god. Terrilyn. I am so, so sorry. How terrifying. I am praying and will think of you often. I sincerely wish there was something I could do. I feel powerless in this comment box. I am thinking of you and your sweet boy.

[Jody]

Terrilynn, I'm so so very sorry. I'm sure you have a million different things to wrap your mind around right now.

Please let me know if there's ANYTHING I can do while you're in Chapel Hill. Lunch, a cup of good coffee brought over from the local coffee shop, anything. I'd be honored to oblige.

[Betsy]

Adding my voice to the chorus of prayers, of course.

And - I have to imagine that there's a horde of people here 'in the computer' who'd like to help in some tangible way. I also know that it's often hard for you to lean. Do us all a favor and ask us for help/lean a little, please? We all love you and want to add ourselves to your support team...

[Moxie]

Oh, Terrilynn. Found out about ths from Lisa V. What a ghastly situation to wake up in the middle of. I will pray for you long and hard.

[sandy]

This is the first time I've left a comment and I want you to know you are in my prayers and I'm so glad you have family and friends to help you through this... stay strong.

[kenju]

Terrilynn, I am feeling as though something knocked the wind right out of me. I am so sorry that you have to go through this, but I have no doubt that you will fight your best to be rid of it and you have many friends here who will help. You go on my prayer list right now and will stay there as long as you need support. God be with you in the coming months; please keep us apprised of your progress.

[Sarah]

I will have you in my prayers

[Marcia]

Terrilynn,

I had no idea. I just bopped on over from the comment you left at my site, and I'm speechless.

If anecdotes are of any, any consolation, my mom had colon cancer when my son was a baby. I don't think I ever heard a stage number, but it was through the wall of the colon and into the lymph nodes.

She got better, and God willing, will be at my son's high school graduation in May.

[colleen]

Thanks for sharing this, Terrilynn. My heart and my prayers are with you and Liam and I hope you'll keep us posted when you can.

[Kerri.]

Terrilynn,

Keep us posted as to your progress and we'll keep you supplied with as many prayers as you can hold. We're thinking of you and hoping for the absolute best.

-- Kerri.

[InSearchOfBalance]

You'll be in my thoughts, as I hope for your quick recovery. Best wishes.

[Amy]

Good Lord! You are in my thoughts and prayers, Terrilyn. I'm sending you hugs from afar.

[Account Deleted]

Baby girl, I'm so glad you posted this. And I'm so sorry I've been away these past several days. And I'm so glad you have a date. And I'm so glad it's Chapel Hill. And will be so delighted beyond measure if you will let me know when/how to come see you, hold your hand, hug your neck, check out your doc, etc. and so on.

Just whistle, baby.

I love you!
xoxo

[julia]

Terrilynn,
I'm so sorry to hear about your diagnosis. I'll be keeping you and Liam in my thoughts and I'm sending all kinds of healthy vibes your way. As Kerri said, please keep us posted as to how you're doing.

Huge hugs to you and your son.
julia

[Raehan]

Wishing you a new year that ends with healing.

Coming from Catherine's blog.

[Michelle]

I came over from The Fountain Pen and have been blown away by your story. The life we live, the body we have been given to live it in is really so fragile and so often I take that for granted. I am so sorry you had to go through and are still on this scary and uncertain journey. Know that the Circle of Friends extends to me and I will keep you in my prayers. As a childhood cancer suvivor I have always believed in the power of the postitive and the healing power of love. May you be surrounded by both and blessed with prayers.

[alice, uptown]

I am, like everyone else, incredibly sorry. (I came here via The Fountain Pen.) I wish I had more comforting words, or that cyberspace offered other means of connection, but words are all I have to give. Take care, let anyone help you when you can tolerate it, be brave (or not) as you feel, and I wish you all the best.

[artsweet]

Delurking to say... I'm so very sorry to hear this. You and your beautiful boy will be in my thoughts and hopes.

[Nike Shox For Sale]

And for better or worse, the outcome of the global recession will be closer regulation of the world's economic and financial systems, for years to come.