June 7, 2014

Here we are, two days from my operation.  It has been a long, slow week, finding out a little, waiting, finding out some more.  More waiting, no eating.  Way to make the waiting seem longer.  I know that if I were to eat, it would undoubtedly make me feel worse.  And really, scarily, not eating is not that hard.

I don’t think my surgeon, as positive as he seems, thinks things look good for me right now.  It is expressed in small ways.  Not in anything he says, but the way he presents it.  It is in the nervousness he hides when he asks me what I know about my condition.   “Hello” he says extending his hand.  “I am Dr. Lentrichia.”  I can only remember lenticular after a while, which is a horrible plastic 3D effect we have on some our puzzles at daycare. He restarts our conversation, with another handshake and introduction.  It should help me remember his name, instead, I just think he is nervous.

“I just met these nice people,” I imagine him thinking, "and here is what I get to say to them."

Steve is nervous and jiggles his leg, like he is going to blast off at any moment.

I smile.  What else can I do? 

He blurts it all out.  "You have a mass in your colon, that is most certainly malignant.  It has spread to your liver.  You have stage 4 liver cancer."  He gives me medical name.  I don’t remember it. Does it matter?

He tells us our first order of business to get the mass out so I can eat, digest, eliminate waste.  The way to start is to have only liquids this weekend.  I am worried about my weight, it is down to 140 on my 5'7" frame.  I am looking scarily thin.   After a cleanse last weekend and a tender stomach after my colonoscopy I wonder if I should try to gain some weight.   No time to gain he says, he needs to operate on Monday.  

No problem.  I can do it.  It actually feels pretty good to be so empty.

He tells me he wants me to get an upper respiratory ct scan in the hospital.  This doesn’t  sound good to me.  I don't ask why, but I do look over his shoulder while he is doing some paperwork, and then scan the radiologist report.  There may be cancer in the lower left lobe of my lung.  I wish I hadn’t looked.