A Diagnosis - That Needs a Miracle

Our journey began with a routine physical and a CT scan.  John had gone to his primary care physician with my list of things to ask the doctor about; sleep apnea, check the freckles for malignant melanoma, and the upset stomach. John had also had two bouts of the "flu,"  from which he came home from school with diarrhea and vomiting.  The primary doctor suggested that there may be a spastic colon, most likely, or a possible bowel obstruction, more unlikely, as the reason for the upset stomach.  The next step is to prescribe medication and schedule a CT scan to rule out any further complications like cysts.  The CT was on Thursday, November 20.

 

On the following Monday, John called to doctor to see if the findings of the scan were in.  At that point, the doctor requested that John come in to the office to discuss the results of the scan.  I received a phone call at school from John stating that a large "mass" was found on the pancreas in the scan.  John stated, "It could be a cyst or a tumor!"  So the diagnosis went from spastic colon, to bowel obstruction, to a cyst, most likely, or a benign tumor, more unlikely.

 

Since the CT was not clear in indicating if the "mass"  was a fluid filled cyst or a tumor, the doctor recommended exploratory surgery.  John had not been able to keep food down for the past two days, and with the Thanksgiving Holiday coming up, we decided to go to the emergency room to get admitted to the hospital in order to "get the ball rolling"  in hopes to have the surgery completed before the holiday.  John couldn't eat, so he would not be able to enjoy the food, and he could use the holiday vacation days to recuperate from the surgery.  The surgery was to take place on November 26 in the late afternoon.  Over Tuesday and Wednesday, John was prepped for the exploratory surgery.

 

The surgeon planned to take out the "mass."  It was more than likely that portions of the pancreas would come out and most likely the spleen.  It was going to depend on what they found when the opened him up and how involved the mass was with the surrounding tissues and blood vessels.  It is definitely a serious operation, not one that they do often, and tricky with the delicate tissues surrounding the area.  The surgeon's preliminary diagnosis was most likely a fluid filled cyst or possibly a benign tumor, but more unlikely a malignant tumor.  The surgery was to take approximately 2 1/2 hours.

 

John, who has never had more than stitches in his chin, was understandably worried about the operation.  He wanted to get it over with and he had made his peace with the priest just in case.

 

At 1 hour and 50 minutes, the doctor came out of the operating room.  I immediately knew that something was wrong.  He escorted John's parents and brother, plus my father and my sister along with myself to a tiny conference room.  All the while, I felt like throwing up or loosing my bowels.  He explained that the "mass" was indeed a tumor, most likely malignant.  The tumor had spread like a blanket over the lining of the small intestine and had multiple small tumors "studded" around.  A few of the lymph nodes in John's back were swollen and would also probably test positive.  John had pancreatic cancer.  And on a scale of severity from one to four, definitely stage 3 or possibly stage 4.  They could not operate, and had to leave the tumors alone.  I could not believe it, the most unlikely had become reality.

 

As everyone fell apart around me, I needed to remain focused.  The next most logical questions are treatment and life expectancy.  According to the doctor, traditional chemotherapy does not work well.  Radiation is not an option because there was spreading.  He would do better with clinical trials using the latest chemicals and facilities.  I then asked how long.  The answer was three months, six months, 2 years.  It depends.  At that point, John's parents lost it.  The reality had hit.

 

Immediately, the reaction was shock.  My father, a primary care doctor himself, realized the seriousness and finality of the situation.  I remember him saying, with tears streaming down his face, "We are going to need a miracle." 

 

I sent everyone home for the night to deal with the situation and pass the word to family members.  John was still in recovery and would probably be well medicated into the night.  The hardest part for me was meeting John in recovery and not being able to tell him the news.  How do you tell him?  What do you tell him?  That night was pure agony.  I probably slept five minutes.  I went down to the chapel at St. Alexius at 3:30 a.m.  And while at the feet of Jesus, I did not ask for John to be saved.  I asked that we have the strength to deal with the uncertainties ahead.  Never in my life did I expect to be raising my children alone.  Never did I expect to bury my husband at such an early age.  Never did I expect to be planning a final family vacation.  So many questions...so little time...