The Day That Changed Everything
Friday:
His dark brown eyes locked on mine. He never broke gaze even during that long pause. It had to have been difficult. I have to give it to him for that. I refused to look away for a moment then looked down into my lap to hide the tears that were welling….defeated. My fingers interlocked together like a dance. The skin over the knuckles started to turn white as my fingers squeezed.
“I’m going to disappoint so many people.” I said as my voice cracked. I couldn’t hold it back anymore — my chest heaved, my face contorted and the tears overflowed. It’s what they were all waiting for…my reaction to the news.
After failed attempts at dabbing my tears away like I tell my brides, I swiped defiantly at the salty water that turreted down my cheeks without my permission. My eyes focused on the woven pattern of my cream colored canvas dress. I had never in my life focused so hard on where to look. I shifted uncomfortably on the table listening to the crinkle of the paper as I moved.
I took a deep breath and looked back at the doctor. Our gazes fixed again for a moment. Then, he said ever so softly in response shrugging his shoulders slightly with a compassionate head tilt “You have to take care of yourself too.” His voice trailed off.
I nodded…and slumped over. The tears dropped in my lap like rain.
A few weeks ago:
I can’t remember the details at this time but I do know that we were driving….I think it was after dropping the kids off at daycare. That morning I had spent time on the floor in our bedroom — flat out, feeling my belly like I used to do when I was pregnant. I knew I needed to tell Marc about the lump I had been feeling but how do you even say that out loud? What if it was just something stupid? What if it was just something that’s supposed to be there in the first place? I mean, it’s really “in there.” I also have these fears of seeming un-educated and being a burden to others.
I just said it. “Hey, so, I’ve been noticing this lump in my stomach for some time now and I’m not sure what it. I think maybe I should go get it checked out.” Of course, Marc was in full support. His response was a mix of, “We have good insurance, OF COURSE YOU SHOULD GO” and that look that made my heart sink. His dad died of cancer only a few years past. Lumps were a sensitive topic and I hated to take him back there.
The initial appointment was concerning for sure. My normal doc was on vacay so I saw another in the office, a woman, to my relief. It was so much easier to explain my symptoms to another woman. I went alone. After a barrage of questions, she had me lay down and touched my stomach in various places over my shirt even. Then she got to “the spot.” She barely touched it and immediately said, “Well, I think we should have some more tests done.”
Terrifying at best.
She ordered a slew of tests including an ultrasound that same day AND a CT scan a few days later.
Waiting for those tests to come back was excruciating but really I had the results in no time flat. The ultrasound was somewhat inconclusive. My bloodwork: exemplary. I started feeling better.
Let’s GO! Business as usual.
Then, the CT scan came back.
Reading the long report was both exciting and boring at the same time. The ability to take complex, important information and make it as dull as possible seemed to be the goal. It revealed a large mass in my abdomen. “Likely a lipoma” it said. There was a lot of google searching involved in the reading of those test results. My final determination from them: I’m ok. It’s a benign tumor that is typically removed simply and easily through small incision robotic surgery. It sounded like something that could easily wait until after wedding season.
In this age of technology, I came to all of these conclusions before even hearing back from my doctor. The lab posts the results online to your patient portal sometimes even before the doctor can review them and talk to you.
When my cell rang and I saw the Lancaster number, I actually answered it for once knowing it could be her. It was the nurse though. It had to be good news. Bad news is always given by the doctor herself, right? She told me that the doc thinks that due to the size of the mass, it should probably be removed. She didn’t say much more and asked me for my consent to give a referral to the surgical group.
I was feeling good. Then, when the appointment for the surgery consultation was scheduled for 3 weeks in the future, I gave a further sigh of relief. I mean, if it was bad, they wouldn’t wait that long, right? I kept on shooting and thought notifying clients would unnecessarily upset them.
I waited two weeks. Things started feeling more uncomfortable in my stomach….probably just what I ate last night, right? Then, I got an unexpected call from a Lancaster number again. Not wanting to chance missing something important, I answered it. With the kids yelling in the back seat of the van as we drove, I glazed over, numb as a nurse explained that the original surgeon I was supposed to meet with next week thought that another surgeon with more specialty would be a better fit.
Marc was driving, trying to keep Finn and Rita quiet unsuccessfully. After explaining to them the importance of being quiet while someone is talking on the phone, we looked at each other and I said, “well, that can’t be good.”
I did what any person does these days: I googled the new doctor. He seemed to have more of a specialization in the area of the body that my tumor was located…okay…no biggie. He also has more experience with the robotic, small incision surgeries that would make this a super simple, easy procedure. “I bet I’ll be be back at it in 3 days after this procedure!” was my reaction.
From this detailed research, lol, I began assuming that this would be a “no big deal” surgery that would put me out for 3-5 days tops. I began looking at my schedule for breaks to fit this easy surgery in. With my appointment with the surgeon on a Friday and my “summer break” starting the next week, I wondered if he would be available to do the surgery the next week. I would have a solid 10 days to recover just in case! That would be AMAZING!!!!
I went into the appointment with Marc and my mom because she is a nurse and I thought she would know the right questions to ask and better remember all the lingo that is discussed. Marc, I brought so he could just hear it all for himself. I never anticipated needing moral support. While I don’t regret having them there for a moment, I noticed immediately the hesitation on the staff’s part. At first I thought it was because they weren’t used to having so many people in a room because of Covid but I soon found out that there were some sensitive and tough conversations to be had in this meeting…and they saw it coming.
I make terrible jokes and talk too much when I’m nervous. It was like a bad opening act at a low-end comedy club with the nurse as I warmed up to the room and the reality of the situation.
When the doctor entered the room I couldn’t help but chuckle inside as he reminded me of one of the main characters of one of our favorite shows, Numbers. He was younger and charismatic with shoulder-length, dark hair much like my teenage son’s styles. I liked him immediately. He showed us a barrage of images on the computer from the CT scan I had 3 weeks ago against a CT scan I had completed for a Kidney stone 10 years ago. It made my stomach drop.
There was not only a mass…this thing has been there for at least a decade….and it’s growing. While that makes sense, it is enough news to make your stomach turn. It feels violating to know that something that shouldn’t belong has been there for an extended amount of time. I learned the cause of many symptoms I have had over the last few years including my expedited weight gain and distended stomach. “It’s like you have a baby in your belly…but not in the right spot…” as the doc told me.
After lots of explanation over where and just how big this thing is. He went on to explain his expertise and then he said a word I wasn’t prepared to have directed at me. For the first time in my life I had someone point the “C” word at me. I learned that this mass that was supposed to be a lipoma from the report, could actually be a Sarcoma. Either way, it is really <really> rare. So rare, in fact, that this surgeon was willing to admit that he was not the right guy for the job….this surgery is not only a major surgery that will take 4-6 weeks to recover from, but they also need to approach it as a cancer surgery just in case.
We are now 2 surgeons down with no where to go.
This is the point in the story that I left you earlier. Until now, I thought this was going to be a “quick fix.” I had no idea this was going to be such a thing.
I gazed over as he talked about the possibility of “treatments” in addition to the initial surgery if they are need for cancer (which he is pretty sure is not). Either way, it will be a complicated, multiple incision, major surgery with 4-6 weeks of recovery time that is sure to effect some, if not many, of my clients this year. (P.S. I have already personally reached out to all of them that might be effected this year)
You know, it wasn’t in fear of the surgery, recovery time, or cancer that I wept in that office on Friday. It was the fear of letting people down that have counted on me that I wept. In this moment of retrospection as I think back, that is eye-opening. This situation is my ultimate fear as a wedding photographer realized. To this date, there has never been a wedding my team booked that I did not shoot, ever.
It has always been of utmost importance to invest in high-quality second photographers that I could envision leading the day if I, heaven forbid, couldn’t shoot the day. I envisioned COVID or car crash…never this. Life’s funny like that.
It still hasn’t quite sunk in but one thing I promise you is that I will keep you updated as best I can. I may not be on social as often….or maybe more. I don’t know. There are so many unknowns right now. I may not be able to make the education happen this year….sigh. Or, maybe I will have the time laying in bed to work on it. I truly do not know. We’ll see. This is life. And, this too shall pass. I’m trying to walk into the unknown with openness and the clarity I have found over the years. In these moments of strife, our training and routine shine.
Guys, things happen when you least expect them. Enjoy this day in your life….just because. For me. For you family. For you.