Day 218


I am only counting these days for completeness sake. Time has sure lapsed from days to week to months. Today was the day of Jackie’s port removal. Have we been over anxious to have this day come. From bickering whether or not it was too early to convincing the insurance company this was a needed surgery. It is no easy task and not a cheap one either. Her port entry cost over 13,000 dollars and left us with a copay of 1000. The removal should be a mirror image. However, this is a necessity and also a happy day. This is considered a good surgery. Why are there good and bad surgeries. Having a person cut into you should never be considered “good.” In comparison why do be say if you are going to have cancer, Hodgkin’s is the one to have. Hodgkin’s is considered the “good” cancer out of the family. Shame on anyone who views Hodgkin’s less serious than any other cancer. The pain, tears, stress, and anxiety of Jackie and me will blow anyone who is naïve to think Hodgkin’s is the “good” cancer. If it is so good why are we still visiting doctors at Day 218 until forever. This is a lifetime of fighting secondary cancers, systemic conditions, side effects, and even relapse.

Surgery was set at the crack of dawn on this great surgery day. I took the day off to support my wife. She was the first one for surgery. It seemed fairly simple with local anesthesia. There was no anesthesiologist present which actually scared me. Either this was a really confident doctor or I just sent my wife in for slaughter. Luckily the lattter was only a figment of my imagination. With a goodbye kiss and a smile I let go of Jackie’s hand and watched her role off into the O.R. What a brave young girl! I admire her courage and faith. I am utterly convinced that is what made her beat this stupid disease. As I sat in the waiting room listening to music I noticed all the nervous family members of others. Obviously there were not getting a “good” surgery. Actually I felt awkward having a smile on my face while enjoying music. This guilt made me stuff my music player back into my pocket.

Thirty minutes later the nurse pops in saying that my wife is ready to get out of the hospital. HUH?, was all I could think in my head. I walk back into the recovery room and there I see a ray of sunshine smiling at me. All my fears melt and my breathing returned to normal.

The rest of the day was uneventful. We tried to do as little as possible by watching movies, reading, and talking. Dinner was made, fears were gone, the port was out, and another wonderful day with my wife was done.