"C" Day - Friday, October 7, 2005

Five years ago, I had a cancer scare. I wrote some thoughts during that time in a journal. My fears were intense and very real. But I found great strength in my friends and family – and in God. Through the ordeal of testing – and amid the fears – I somehow felt a strange calm that allowed me to function well most days. I know that calm came from the arms of Christ as He cloaked me.

After this ordeal, I will never take a healthy breath for granted. I will also never stop praying for those who carry the burden of disease – or the caregivers who have to watch hopelessly as their loved ones suffer.

For some reason, I feel compelled to post those thoughts over the next week or so.  Here is the first one describing the day I got the call from the doctor.  Warning - it is a rambling documentary of my thoughts when I received the call... 

Friday, October 7, 2005 - "C" Day. I hear the phone ring but can't get to it so I let the answering machine get it. When I check the caller ID, I see that the doctor's office is calling.

"Good", I think. "The lab results are in." Finally, I'll find out what all of these lab tests are all about. I check the message thinking that a call back number has been left. What a thing to leave on an answering machine! "This is Tammy, from the doctor’s office. He has reviewed your lab results and is referring you to a specialist. Your appointment is Tuesday at 9:30 a.m. Please call me back to let me know that you received this message."

I stare at the phone for a few minutes before calling the number that Tammy left. Voice mail - naturally. I leave a message - my voice is shaking with urgency and shock that this message was left on my voicemail. What a thing to leave on an answering machine!

I grab the telephone book to see what kind of specialist I have been referred to. My mind is racing. Just last month, I went in for a regular physical. I mentioned that I got the shakes sometimes, and had to eat something to get back to normal. Blood sugar is off - that's my opinion. So, some lab work was ordered. Then I was called back in because of high liver function results on the lab work. Then, that was ok, but some concerns about protein - could I come back for a urinalysis. Next, they forgot to draw blood for another test when they did the urinalysis, could I come back one more time. Now - I'm being referred to a specialist. I haven't even talked to my internist - I don't know what he is looking for - I don't know what he has found. I flip through the yellow pages as my mind races.

There she is - the "specialist". Listed under "Oncology and Hematology". I know just enough to be dangerous. I know that Oncology means cancer. They want me to go to a specialist because I might have cancer. Why? What did they find?

I call the doctor's office again. I get voicemail again. This time I hit "0" on the phone pad. That is reserved for emergencies - well this is an emergency to me! Tammy answers. I tell her who I am and what I want. She probably wonders why I consider this an emergency. This is just a day in the life to her - this IS life to me.

Tammy tells me that she thinks that my red blood count is off, but - could I hold for a minute while she looks. I tell her that I will hold, but I want more information than that.

A moment later, the doctor comes on the line. After we talk, I look at the list of words that I tried to write down as we spoke. I knew I wouldn't remember what he told me. Words like Protein Electrophoresis Anti-immune / Multiple Myeloma / M-Spike (mine is high) / indicates a blood problem / at worse a blood cancer / if there is a problem it is probably in early stages / specialist can provide more information for diagnosis. All I remembered when we hung up was Cancer.

Just a day in the life of this doctor and his nurse. Just another day / another diagnosis / another patient. In that moment my whole life changed. It might be nothing. But it might be my life.

I tried to contain my fears. I was late for a conference call. I dialed in and sent an instant message to the facilitator apologizing for being late. Then I hit the internet while I listened to the call. Bad mistake! No cancer sites are ever good. Only the positive diagnoses are on the web - only the worse cases. Multiple Myeloma has less than a 25% survival rate according to the Web. Average life span is 3 years. Lots of pain. Bone disfigurement. More pain. Bone Marrow is required for accurate diagnosis - and that is painful. Could we have a little sunshine, please!!!!

Call is over. I call my cousin, Jean. I don't want to scare anybody (I'm scared enough), but I know that she will call me in a few minutes and I want to initiate the call. I don't want to be caught off guard. I wait until I'm under control. Then, she answers and I hear her voice. All bets are off. I instantly lose control again.  The tears come and I can't find my voice.  I try to tell her that I am upset about the way that I was told, not what I was told. She isn't buying it. She is upset, too. Her mother died of Multiple Myeloma. Yet, she doesn't mention that. She doesn't know that I realize that this is what Aunt Lena died of. She is trying to keep me calm. She says that she is going to the doctor with me. I thank God for her.

I call my friend, Betty. Does she know this specialist? She knows the group and they are great. She assures me that all will be all right. Do I want to go to lunch? Do I want her to come over? She is praying for me right now. I know that she is. I thank God for her.

I call Lynda - another dear friend. I can't tell Betty anything and not tell Lynda. We are the Hooter's Girls / the Three Musketeers / the Three Amigos / and Lynda and I claim to be the Vestal (or reinvested) Virgins. Lynda says she is going to the doctor with me. It will be all right. I thank God for her.

I have a call from a teammate that I've known for years. She wants me to review materials for an upcoming class with her. I tell her I won't be at the team meeting. The whole story. I hope things work out, she says. We'll talk before the class the week after. Thanks, pal.

I e-mail my boss. I tell her that I can't make the team meeting next week because I have a doctor's appointment. Some lab work that I had done last week didn't look good, so I am seeing an Oncologist / Hematologist on the day the meeting starts. I don't want to put it off, but I want her input into the decision. She says that I should keep my doctor's appointment. She will have someone take notes and will send what I need to review that I will miss from the meeting. That's not exactly what I was concerned about! She will tell the team that I had trouble with my making my plane and that's why I'm not at the meeting. I tell her that I have no problem with her telling the team that I had some blood work results that require a visit to a specialist and the appointment was the same time as the meeting. I wonder why everything is such a big secret to her. I mean, it's not like I'm not at the meeting because I'm high on meth or something. I didn't do anything that I need to be ashamed of. I have some ratty blood and maybe cancer. That's not anything that I need to hide from the team. Why am I so angry that she is trying to protect my privacy?

Then, another teammate calls. She is a teammate who I didn't know well until that moment. Right now, she is the teammate I feel closest to. This lady called to see if she could pick me up at the airport when I fly in for the team meeting. That way we can work on a project together before the meeting starts. I tell her my saga. I won't be there. Time stopped for her. She talked to me. She reassured me. She asked me frank questions (have I told my children? / why not? / what if I get bad news - is there a back up plan for the class I have to teach next week? / don't read the web! / call me if you need to talk.) We talked for a long time. We laughed and I cried and she cared and she calmed me. I thank God for her!

I couldn't call my kids - there is nothing to tell them, really.  And I just couldn't call my old friend Jack - even though I knew that he would say just the right funny thing to snap me back to reality that I am just having tests. No diagnosis has been made. Yet, I just couldn't call Jack!

By 4:00, I realize that I need to get a move on. I'm supposed to meet Lynda and kids from the church at 4:30. We're the official transportation to get the kids to camp for a week-end retreat. I pull myself up by my bootstraps. Another day, for sure. Lynda and I get to take the pre-teen boys to camp.  The talked about French Kissing and farting on the way to camp. They whispered about girls and who knows what else. They got wilder when we gave them sugar. When we got to the camp they got out and the car became quiet. Lynda and I talked all the way home. We will go back to pick them up on Sunday afternoon.

Just another day… I thought I wouldn't sleep, but I did. I thank God for that!