"I thought you are on vacation!" I said, after we said hello.
"I am," she said with a laugh "but I had to call you personally because I actually have good news this time!"
"Impossible!" I teased, although it is true she has been the bearer of bad news in recent months.
"We got the results from Willie's liver biopsy and everything looks perfect! There is no scarring or tissue damage so it confirms that his numbers are high due to fatty liver."
I heaved a sigh of relief into the phone. It was fantastic news!
"We'll go ahead with our planned schedule then and I'll see you guys next Wednesday!"
We said our goodbyes and I hung up, but not before another small wave of panic hit me. I only had two days left at home. The time was going by too quickly.
We started to pack on Saturday afternoon, but hadn't made it very far by Sunday afternoon. We had Willie's family and friends over for lunch and had a great time talking and laughing. It was a recharge for our batteries that we were both happy to have. Our plan was to leave for Stanford by 3-4PM on Sunday. We didn't leave until 9 PM! Willie just didn't want to go!
We got to our apartment at Stanford about 1:00 AM on Monday morning and had to be at the hospital at 7 AM. Needless to say, we were both sleepy for his first appointment.
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| Waiting for treament to begin |
The hallway down to the radiation department is long and cold. It is on the bottom floor of the cancer center and passes by a series of windows that are covered half way by concrete stairs. We were instructed to enter the only door on the left side of the hall. When we entered it was a different world. It looked looked like a lobby from a classy hotel with waist high banisters surrounding the room and calming colors of carpet and paint. The chairs are set up around the perimeter of the room leaving every patient in the awkward position of trying to avoid eye contact with other patients. Several people in the room were wearing hospital gowns and a nurse came out and instructed Willie to join them in gown wearing. She showed him to changing room and he came out a few minutes later in an open back gown.
A few minutes later he was taken back to the radiation room and I waited on pins and needles. A woman came in with a soft pink hat covering her balding head. She removed the hat and began fanning herself. Moments later another woman entered with a shaved head and tired eyes. Her feet were covered in cozy pink socks and tiny pink ribbons that gave away her fight with breast cancer. There was no talking in the room, everyone kept silently to themselves.
Suddenly the door opened and an older woman entered with a flurry of movement and noise. She plunked her purse on the seat next to me and sat down with a loud sigh.
"I'm so sick of cancer!" she announced to the room.
I watched as every eye in the room looked up cautiously toward the woman. Several heads nodded and the woman in the pink socks laughed softly.
"My husband is getting radiation," she kept talking as if everyone had an interest in her story "I can tell you this, if I was getting radiation I wouldn't be nearly as angry as my husband is."
She paused to see if anyone was listening. Most of the eyes in the room were now buried in magazines. Only the pink sock lady and I remained her targets.
"Can you believe he didn't like what I am wearing today, but I told him I don't care, it's the only thing I have clean!" she nudged me as she said this and I turned to look at her.
I had to stifle a laugh as I took in the full absurdity of her outfit. She wore a heavy brown overcoat that is better suited for someone working construction, under that peaked out a neon green shirt with some writing and pictures on it that suggested it came from the juniors department at Walmart. Her pants were an over sized pair of camo print with giant cargo pockets that could hold a medium sized cat. She topped this all off with a multicolored hat that blended well with her outrageous eye makeup.
She was a prize to behold.
"Yeah, cancer sucks..." she said again, this time to me "but you wouldn't understand that, you're too young!"
I stared back at her, but said nothing. I didn't even know where to begin to respond to such an attack.
I wish I didn't understand cancer.
I wish age qualified someone to be affected by the terrible disease.
I wish I was too young.
"But you've got a pretty purse," she said, after a moment of silence "I like the way it shines." She pointed to the rhinestones on the outside of my purse and smiled at me like we were old friends. Apparently if I can't understand cancer, at least I can have a pretty purse!
It was a stupid exchange, but it put me on edge. When the nurse called my name I jumped out of my chair and nearly ran to the door. Willie wasn't with her and I felt a bit of panic.
"The nurse is waiting to meet with you and Willie." she said, as she lead me to an examination room.
"Is everything OK?" I asked, keeping my voice steady.
"Yes," she replied "this is what happens on the first day of radiation."
I relaxed a bit when I saw Willie sitting on a chair and looking the same he had when he left. I don't know what I had expected from radiation, but the images in my mind were far worse than the reality.
"Did you feel anything?" I asked as I sat down.
"No," he shrugged "just my feet got tired from standing still so long."
We met with the nurse to discuss the plan for the week. He will have New Year's Day off from treatments then receive 3 treatments on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday before being admitted on Saturday to start receiving chemo.
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| The carry on bag of water |
It was about 11 AM by this time and Willie was starving. We had ordered food long before that time, but it was yet to be seen. The tray of food finally arrived around 11:45, but Willie was nauseous by that time. He tried sipping water and eating crackers, but it didn't help. He was still queasy at 1 PM when it was time for his next treatment. The nurse got him a wheelchair and kicked us out to radiation, handing him a pink bucket for the road.
We made it out into the atrium before he threw up. Willie doesn't do anything quietly and his retching noise is horrifyingly loud. The sound echoed around the open hallways as he heaved over and over again. Tears came to my eyes as I watched him bent over in pain.
I have only seen him throw up a few times in our years together. The first time he was sick was when we had been dating about a year. I was living in Sacramento and had come up to Willows to visit for the weekend. We had gone out to dinner and were watching a movie when he suddenly announced he was going to throw up and ran to the bathroom. That was the first time I met his beastly grunt of a throw up noise. It was as if all the walls in the house were shaking from the echo of his retch. I recall sitting on the couch and staring straight forward in shock. I didn't know how to respond. I had heard time and again that in order to know if someone you are dating is the one, you must first see each other when you are ill. This was advice passed from one lovestruck teenager to another. I recall the explanation being that you must see your partner sick in order to see if your love could endure the illness. If you still loved them afterward then it was meant to be! Now I feel like that is the most ridiculous advice of all time, but at that moment on his couch the words echoed in my head and I flew into action in hopes of this illness being the confirmation of our destiny.
Apparently the marriage advice worked for us. I spent that weekend nursing him through a 24 hour flu and 2 short years later we were married....!
It took a few moments for the echo to leave the atrium when he finished throwing up. When all was silent he handed me the bucket and said
"Let's go."
I handed the bucket to a passing nurse and we continued downstairs. He handled the second treatment well and we met afterward with the radiation doctor. We told her about his throwing up and she assured us that unfortunately that is going to happen.
"I guess this means it's working though," Willie said, looking on the bright side.
Her laugh was unexpected as she was caught off guard by his remark
"I guess that's one way to look at it! They definitely turned the beam on!"
We went back up to the cancer center and the doctor and nurse were waiting in his room to discuss the throw up incident. I was impressed at the speed and interest everyone was taking in Willie. The Doctor wrote Willie a prescription for Zofran to take at home and we left for the day.
Last night was rocky.
Willie threw up several times and hasn't kept anything down yet today. We went back to the cancer center this afternoon and the same doctor from yesterday came to check in. We told him about the constant heaving and he responded quickly
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| Snoozing in the apartment with his suitcase of water |
We both smiled and thanked him and soon the IV began.
Our hopes were high that the results would be immediate, but 2 hours later Willie was still sitting on the side of the bed with a trash can in his lap. He was still feeling quesy, but hasn't thrown up since and he is now sleeping on the couch so I'm hoping he will wake up with some relief from the nausea.
I think we have learned in one short day that radiation is ALOT worse than chemotherapy. We could use some prayers for the rest of the week. I'm praying that he can make it through the rest of the treatments and that the doctors who work with him will be inspired on how they can best help him. We are still in good spirits and I admire Willie's attitude in the face of trial. He is stronger than cancer and will grit his teeth and see this through.
Happy New Year!!!
We are looking forward to a year of adventure and healing!
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