I’m having trouble sleeping tonight so I thought this would be a good opportunity for me to make my first entry on the blog. First, I want to thank Carrie for taking the time to set this up. It will be a good way for people to keep track of my progress. I want to thank my entire family for their support and love. I know that I wouldn’t be able to do this without them. You’ve all been amazing. Every time I am blue, one of you is there making me feel better. It means a lot to me to spend time with you too, and this summer and fall I have cherished our times together. Mike, you support me every day—even when I’m grumpy. I hope I don’t drive you crazy before this is over. Justin and UnKyong, even though you are far away, you are close in spirit. Carrie and Keith, you’ve made me feel welcome and comfortable at your house and so important from all of your visits. I love you all.
Carrie posted some information about how this PMP progressed for me. It’s been a very strange journey, indeed. Apparently, this disease has been progressing for some time—maybe as long as eight or ten years. I’ve been complaining about abdominal problems for at least that long. There have been a few incidents in the past where I felt really bad for a day or so and then it would pass. Strangely, I didn’t think it boded well. But even though I visited doctors and tried to get a handle on what was going on, nothing really seemed to fix it. I had my gallbladder removed in 2004. Then I was diagnosed with colitis in 2005. The lovely medication Asacol, helped with the symptoms, but I still didn’t feel right. In 2007, my GYN sent me for a CT scan and discovered what she thought was a tiny ovarian cyst. She recommended getting a tumor marker check. When the markers came back normal, she gave me the choice of surgery or watching and waiting. Three months later we did the CT scan and tumor markers again with no change, so we decided to wait until my next check up and check it out again (obviously we didn't make it that far). Also there was the problem of “the increasing abdomen.” I REALLY did try to eat healthy foods. I started cooking with olive oil and moved away from animal products. I even tried to go vegetarian. Still, I would feel bloated and uncomfortable. There didn’t seem to be a pattern with the foods either. What upset me one day wouldn’t upset me the next, so I couldn’t eliminate any particular food to stop the problem. This past spring (2008), my abdomen grew even more. From one day to the next I couldn’t get in a pair of my dress pants, and my stomach was hard. I was eating less because I felt nauseated all the time , and I was gaining weight. Then one day I looked in the mirror and I thought, “wow, my face looks a lot thinner.” When I checked out some old photos, my face WAS thinner, but the tummy wasn’t and this set me to wondering if I could have ovarian cancer. I remembered the cyst and the symptoms I was having sounded like it could be.
It was time for my appointment with my gastro-intestinal doctor and he suggested another colonoscopy. The colonoscopy was performed and nothing unusual was found… not even a polyp. I went to work the day after the colonoscopy, even though I didn’t feel well. I actually had abdominal pain. I called the doctor to tell him this and he recommended some Tylenol saying it’s not unusual to have some discomfort afterward. That night I went home feeling a little better and suggested to Mike that we take a walk. We didn’t even get half way around our little neighborhood circle when I started having severe pain in my lower right side. Now I consider myself pretty tough, but I had to stop every few steps because the pain was so bad and Mike could see that I wasn’t going to make it home, so he went and got the car. I could barely get in the car the pain was so bad. I went in the house and laid on the bed and the pain began to subside. I was feeling a lot better and said I should probably get another doctor’s appointment because that was a weird episode. Mike wouldn’t let me off the hook. He insisted I go to the ER. I’m stubborn and didn’t want to go. There was a lot of medical issues going on in the family (parents and daughter-in-law) and I didn’t want to burden anyone. Mike convinced me that if I keeled over dead, everyone would be very appreciative of my not wanting to burden them. That finally convinced me to go to the ER at Waynesboro Hospital.
Going to Waynesboro Hospital is like going back in time. We’ve lived in the area for five years and I’ve had two surgeries there. There is a sign on the hospital that says “BEST PLACE TO WORK IN PA.” Well, it is definitely the best place to go if you are sick! I’ve been totally impressed every time I’ve been there and would recommend it to anybody. Before the night was over, the proverbial “crap” hit the fan. Things have been going crazy ever since. A CT scan that night revealed that my little ovarian cyst had grown to the size of a football. That’s what the ER doc said. No wonder I felt so miserable. The CT scans were actually read in Australia. The ER doc said that when little hospitals like Waynesboro don’t have a radiologist on call, they send their films to be read by English speaking doctors in Australia who are wide-awake. This was interesting, but Mike and I were scared. We knew I had a football in my stomach and no one seemed to know what to make of it. One doc said, it’s probably ovarian cancer and sent us home to make an appointment with the GYN the next day.
Long story short, GYN sent me for ultrasound and thought it was a hemorrhagic cyst, which is common in women in their 50s. They are usually large and removed and no problem. She recommended that I go to Hershey Medical Center to have this thing removed—just in case in turns out to be cancer. She said, then you can have an oncologist there who will know what to do.
The surgeon at Hershey was a great surgeon. But he didn’t know what to do. For a month we waited for pathology reports. No one knew what this 8 pound (now basketball size) tumor was or what to do about it. Based on the surgeons description, “appendix spewing mucous, gelatinous material, “ Justin began sleuthing and diagnosed what he thought I had. Pseudomyxoma Peritonei. As we know now, a rare form of appendix cancer. (When the path reports did arrive--they agreed.) Fortunately for me there were two experts in our neck of the woods. I made appointments with both (Dr. Sardi at Mercy and Dr. Esquivel at St. Agnes).
Both doctors were impressive. Dr. Sardi recommended the MOAS (Mother of All Surgeries) or Cytoreductive surgery with heated chemo. Dr. Esquivel wanted to try an experimental laparoscopic surgery that would remove visible tumor and also deliver heated chemo. After much debate, the family and I decided to go with the more aggressive surgery—even though the laparoscopic surgery sure sounds a lot easier.
Well, the big day is almost here. I would be lying if I said I was anything but scared. I am petrified. Mike, Justin, Carrie, and their wonderful spouses have kept me sane at home. My wonderful friends at Smithsburg High School have given me those little “kicks in the butt” when I needed some tough love. Lots and lots of wonderful friends and family have sent cards, flowers, prayers, and good wishes. Know that every single thing you have done is much appreciated. I just have to scratch my head because I didn’t know so many people cared. I know that this kind of “power” will help me get through this.
Last week I had to tell my high school history classes that I’d be leaving. Wouldn’t you know I have the BEST classes I’ve ever had since I’ve been teaching? It truly pained me to leave them. They are in the capable hands of a long-term sub, but I will really miss them. Thanks for the nice cards and good wishes! I miss you all.
Now I have to give a shout-out to the once-in-a-lifetime class that every teacher dreams of. Yes, this was the hardest class to leave. When I started teaching, some of the pros told me that it was possible to get a class like this—but I didn’t believe it. The 4th mod honors world history class is unbelievable. To a student, they are hard-workers, they bring a good attitude to class every day, and they are always respectful to me and to each other. I was TOTALLY BLOWN away when, on my last day, they presented to me a quilt, on which each of them had decorated a square. It was lovingly sewn together by the “mastermind” and her mom. I will post a picture of it here, because it is so beautiful and I will treasure it forever. Only the most amazing people would have done this! THANK YOU!
Tomorrow we go to Carrie’s and then Monday I’m admitted to Mercy to begin the process of preparation for the surgery. I’ve been following Doug’s blog (see another PMPer’s journey) so I think I know what to expect and I’m not looking forward to it. I had another CT scan today. I’m not sure if it was the medium I drank for the scan, or nerves, or the PMP, but I’m not feeling too hot today so I am actually anxious to get this over with. If getting this junk out of my stomach will make me feel better I am ready.
Mike, Carrie, and Justin will keep you posted and let everybody know when I can get visitors. Keep us in your thoughts and prayers please—and also Mike’s brother Jeff, who we found out yesterday had a stroke and isn’t doing too well.
I hope to thank everybody in person when this is over.
Much love.
Carrie posted some information about how this PMP progressed for me. It’s been a very strange journey, indeed. Apparently, this disease has been progressing for some time—maybe as long as eight or ten years. I’ve been complaining about abdominal problems for at least that long. There have been a few incidents in the past where I felt really bad for a day or so and then it would pass. Strangely, I didn’t think it boded well. But even though I visited doctors and tried to get a handle on what was going on, nothing really seemed to fix it. I had my gallbladder removed in 2004. Then I was diagnosed with colitis in 2005. The lovely medication Asacol, helped with the symptoms, but I still didn’t feel right. In 2007, my GYN sent me for a CT scan and discovered what she thought was a tiny ovarian cyst. She recommended getting a tumor marker check. When the markers came back normal, she gave me the choice of surgery or watching and waiting. Three months later we did the CT scan and tumor markers again with no change, so we decided to wait until my next check up and check it out again (obviously we didn't make it that far). Also there was the problem of “the increasing abdomen.” I REALLY did try to eat healthy foods. I started cooking with olive oil and moved away from animal products. I even tried to go vegetarian. Still, I would feel bloated and uncomfortable. There didn’t seem to be a pattern with the foods either. What upset me one day wouldn’t upset me the next, so I couldn’t eliminate any particular food to stop the problem. This past spring (2008), my abdomen grew even more. From one day to the next I couldn’t get in a pair of my dress pants, and my stomach was hard. I was eating less because I felt nauseated all the time , and I was gaining weight. Then one day I looked in the mirror and I thought, “wow, my face looks a lot thinner.” When I checked out some old photos, my face WAS thinner, but the tummy wasn’t and this set me to wondering if I could have ovarian cancer. I remembered the cyst and the symptoms I was having sounded like it could be.
It was time for my appointment with my gastro-intestinal doctor and he suggested another colonoscopy. The colonoscopy was performed and nothing unusual was found… not even a polyp. I went to work the day after the colonoscopy, even though I didn’t feel well. I actually had abdominal pain. I called the doctor to tell him this and he recommended some Tylenol saying it’s not unusual to have some discomfort afterward. That night I went home feeling a little better and suggested to Mike that we take a walk. We didn’t even get half way around our little neighborhood circle when I started having severe pain in my lower right side. Now I consider myself pretty tough, but I had to stop every few steps because the pain was so bad and Mike could see that I wasn’t going to make it home, so he went and got the car. I could barely get in the car the pain was so bad. I went in the house and laid on the bed and the pain began to subside. I was feeling a lot better and said I should probably get another doctor’s appointment because that was a weird episode. Mike wouldn’t let me off the hook. He insisted I go to the ER. I’m stubborn and didn’t want to go. There was a lot of medical issues going on in the family (parents and daughter-in-law) and I didn’t want to burden anyone. Mike convinced me that if I keeled over dead, everyone would be very appreciative of my not wanting to burden them. That finally convinced me to go to the ER at Waynesboro Hospital.
Going to Waynesboro Hospital is like going back in time. We’ve lived in the area for five years and I’ve had two surgeries there. There is a sign on the hospital that says “BEST PLACE TO WORK IN PA.” Well, it is definitely the best place to go if you are sick! I’ve been totally impressed every time I’ve been there and would recommend it to anybody. Before the night was over, the proverbial “crap” hit the fan. Things have been going crazy ever since. A CT scan that night revealed that my little ovarian cyst had grown to the size of a football. That’s what the ER doc said. No wonder I felt so miserable. The CT scans were actually read in Australia. The ER doc said that when little hospitals like Waynesboro don’t have a radiologist on call, they send their films to be read by English speaking doctors in Australia who are wide-awake. This was interesting, but Mike and I were scared. We knew I had a football in my stomach and no one seemed to know what to make of it. One doc said, it’s probably ovarian cancer and sent us home to make an appointment with the GYN the next day.
Long story short, GYN sent me for ultrasound and thought it was a hemorrhagic cyst, which is common in women in their 50s. They are usually large and removed and no problem. She recommended that I go to Hershey Medical Center to have this thing removed—just in case in turns out to be cancer. She said, then you can have an oncologist there who will know what to do.
The surgeon at Hershey was a great surgeon. But he didn’t know what to do. For a month we waited for pathology reports. No one knew what this 8 pound (now basketball size) tumor was or what to do about it. Based on the surgeons description, “appendix spewing mucous, gelatinous material, “ Justin began sleuthing and diagnosed what he thought I had. Pseudomyxoma Peritonei. As we know now, a rare form of appendix cancer. (When the path reports did arrive--they agreed.) Fortunately for me there were two experts in our neck of the woods. I made appointments with both (Dr. Sardi at Mercy and Dr. Esquivel at St. Agnes).
Both doctors were impressive. Dr. Sardi recommended the MOAS (Mother of All Surgeries) or Cytoreductive surgery with heated chemo. Dr. Esquivel wanted to try an experimental laparoscopic surgery that would remove visible tumor and also deliver heated chemo. After much debate, the family and I decided to go with the more aggressive surgery—even though the laparoscopic surgery sure sounds a lot easier.
Well, the big day is almost here. I would be lying if I said I was anything but scared. I am petrified. Mike, Justin, Carrie, and their wonderful spouses have kept me sane at home. My wonderful friends at Smithsburg High School have given me those little “kicks in the butt” when I needed some tough love. Lots and lots of wonderful friends and family have sent cards, flowers, prayers, and good wishes. Know that every single thing you have done is much appreciated. I just have to scratch my head because I didn’t know so many people cared. I know that this kind of “power” will help me get through this.
Last week I had to tell my high school history classes that I’d be leaving. Wouldn’t you know I have the BEST classes I’ve ever had since I’ve been teaching? It truly pained me to leave them. They are in the capable hands of a long-term sub, but I will really miss them. Thanks for the nice cards and good wishes! I miss you all.
Now I have to give a shout-out to the once-in-a-lifetime class that every teacher dreams of. Yes, this was the hardest class to leave. When I started teaching, some of the pros told me that it was possible to get a class like this—but I didn’t believe it. The 4th mod honors world history class is unbelievable. To a student, they are hard-workers, they bring a good attitude to class every day, and they are always respectful to me and to each other. I was TOTALLY BLOWN away when, on my last day, they presented to me a quilt, on which each of them had decorated a square. It was lovingly sewn together by the “mastermind” and her mom. I will post a picture of it here, because it is so beautiful and I will treasure it forever. Only the most amazing people would have done this! THANK YOU!
Tomorrow we go to Carrie’s and then Monday I’m admitted to Mercy to begin the process of preparation for the surgery. I’ve been following Doug’s blog (see another PMPer’s journey) so I think I know what to expect and I’m not looking forward to it. I had another CT scan today. I’m not sure if it was the medium I drank for the scan, or nerves, or the PMP, but I’m not feeling too hot today so I am actually anxious to get this over with. If getting this junk out of my stomach will make me feel better I am ready.
Mike, Carrie, and Justin will keep you posted and let everybody know when I can get visitors. Keep us in your thoughts and prayers please—and also Mike’s brother Jeff, who we found out yesterday had a stroke and isn’t doing too well.
I hope to thank everybody in person when this is over.
Much love.
2 comments:
Diana,
I was up sometime during the time you were typing. I know I sent up a little prayer then. I will be doing so every moment I think of you until you are back at SHS and fully recovered. I have never met someone with whom I have so much in common and with whom I so instantly bonded. I love you. You are a fantastic teacher and a great friend also. I'm happy that you have such a supportive family to buoy you through this "major bump in the road of your life". Please know that you are on my mind and in my heart. God bless you and strengthen you and your loved ones during this time.
Libby
Diana,
I know that you and your family are scared and nervous for your surgery on Tuesday, but rest comfortably in knowing that by Wednesday Dr. Sardi and his expert team will have taken care of what has been bothering you for so long. I had my MOAS at Mercy almost 7 weeks ago and it seems like it was yesterday. I wont lie, at times the recovery is very difficult but it is all worth it as you will soon feel a feeling of healthy that you havent felt in quite some time. Thank you for posting a link to my blog, and the kind words you and your family have sent to Lindsey and I has been incredible.
I will be praying for you and your family during your surgery on Tuesday and each day of recovery after that in hopes that you see as uncomplicated a recovery as i did.
If you or your family need anything (advice, support, concerns..) dont hesitate to email lindsey thrugh our blog and we would be happy to help you.
During the toughest times I always tried to remind myself that if something was easy, it wouldn't be worth it and that makes it all the better when youre on the other side.
Be strong and be well, ill be thinking of you this week.
Doug Selmont
Sardi Boot Camp Survivor 9/9/08
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