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dcnovice -> RE: Got Prayers? (Or Good Wishes?) (5/7/2013 7:16:34 PM)
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Thanks, everyone! As ever, I deeply appreciate the kind support.
Today's update:
Well . . .
There were no tea sandwiches. Also no boaters or chiffon dresses or strings players. But that didn't bother me.
What did bother me was leaving after almost four hours without the one thing for which I'd specifically trekked north--the promise of what Warren Harding called "a return to normalcy." (Both Woodrow and Edith Wilson, by the way, were affronted by that 1920 campaign slogan, they which took as an insult to their administration. But I digress.)
I'm probably digressing because I don't want to face the hard fact that a third surgeon--highly acclaimed and practicing at one of the nation's leading cancer centers--confirmed what I'd heard from docs down here: MiMA's location, at just about my rear exit, makes it exceedingly unlikely I'll emerge from surgery with the rest of my plumbing intact.
The surgeon offered two options: (a) a permanent colostomy or (b) a colon resection. The latter involves removing my rectum and (if I understood correctly) a fair chunk of my anus. They would then connect my colon directly to the anus. The problem with Plan B is that I'd likely be semi-continent, needing frequent bathroom breaks and always running the risk of accidents. Neither option thrills me, to be honest. I'm gonna think hard over the next few days to sort out which is the lesser of two evils.
One interesting nuance that emerged during the discussion is that the Sloan Rangers tend to do chemo before surgery, rather than after. I'll have to check with my oncologist here to see what he makes of that suggestion. Fortunately, I came home to a voicemail reminder about an appointment with him Thursday afternoon.
I also felt a bit let down by, of all people, the Almighty. Last night, for the first time in maybe a fortnight, I mustered the energy and focus to say Compline (night prayer) before bed. By wonderful coincidence, my one-a-night trudge through the psalter had landed me on Psalm 27. It opens with heartening words:
The LORD is my light and my salvation;
whom then shall I fear?
the LORD is the strength of my life;
of whom then shall I be afraid?
The psalmist then goes on to discuss trusting God even in the face of fear and war and danger. Well, I did that, as best I could, last night, and I still emerged from today's consultation feeling more like Job than the psalmist. Oh well. I'm not planning to solve the puzzles of theodicy tonight--or anytime soon.
Meantime, it's off to bed and back to work. Need to claim as much "normalcy" as I can right now.
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