Blindsided Part 3

🧳 Hello, Fellow Unpackers! 🧳

Welcome back fellow unpackers. I have been thinking and hoping that as I unpack my current journey that I am bringing comfort and acknowledgement to anyone who has been down this path called Cancer too. The fact that my cancer has been found early and very treatable is a blessing I am so grateful for. In saying that it's definitely no walk in the park. 

The emotional rollercoaster I have found myself on since I was called back for further tests has been a wild and winding track. At times I feel silly because it is treatable yet other times, I can't get the thought out of my mind that this will forever be hanging over my head.

Following my surgery, I had no complications and no lymphedema (fluid buildup). Pain was manageable and as awkward as I felt sleeping on my back, I adapted and overcame with use of many pillows. I was so glad to have my eldest daughters help during this time and enjoyed getting to spend quality time with her.

Once I had my post op review, we packed and left for Hervey Bay the following morning. In the blur of my own health journey, My Dad had broken his hip the week before my lumpectomy. I had been supporting my Mum over the phone as he was suffering from delirium. We were on our way to Hervey Bay, and he called me. His delirium had lifted, and he wanted to know how long until my mum and I would be at the hospital. Stating the Dr wants to talk to us. 

Arriving at the hospital, Dad was alert and orientated fully returning to his usual self. Mum looked relieved however the surgeon then came and talked to us. They needed to operate a 2nd time. There was an infection to the surgical site. The risk was very high though and Dad made his decision. No quality of life if he didn't risk the surgery so he said do it.

He was prepared for surgery that afternoon, however they rescheduled him for the morning to allow for blood transfusions to be done. Thankful, I contacted my brother and advised he should get on a plane as soon as he possibly could. I also contacted my nieces Dad, and he was looking at flights too.

I was broken, having to watch my Parents holding hands and saying this is what we want done. I just couldn't stay in the ward when I knew he might not make it back out of the next surgery. As I walked out the front doors of the hospital I just began sobbing. I sobbed for my parents, and I sobbed for myself, for the risk I was facing of losing my dad, and the invader that cancer is even if it had been detected early and a treatable form. My mind was constantly whirring around the advice I had received that I required a discussion with the Oncologist regarding the benefits of Chemotherapy. The appointment was 11 days away. More waiting and ruminating. My mind jumped from that to my dad's health, my mum's stress and everything else randomly and continuously.

The next day Dad had the second surgery. They replaced a part of the prosthetic hip fitted in the previous surgery as well as washed out the surgical site/wound to clear the infection. This was done after swabs were taken for pathology to find out the type of infection he had acquired. It was a long day as Mum, and I sat on their patio talking and anxiously waiting for a call from the hospital to say he was out of surgery. My brother was on his way; however, his flight had been delayed. He wouldn't arrive until approx. 1.30pm. 

The hospital phoned at about 2pm and informed us that he was out of surgery and in recovery. They would be transferring him back to the ward in about half an hour if everything was ok with him. It was a relief to know that he had made it through the surgery and was awake. My brother arrived not long after that call. The relief showed on his face as we updated him on Dad's status. The three of us chatted for a while and then the hospital called to say we could go see him as he was on his way back to the ward. 

As we arrived at his room, he saw us and smiled. A little groggy as to be expected post anesthetics but definitely no evidence of confusion or delirium. Oh, what a relief. Then he saw my brother. Wow what a beautiful moment. Dad's eyes lit up and smiling he said, "oh my baby boy, come here and hug your father." I was so grateful he had been able to get down to see Dad. A tear sneaking out for the happiness I was witness too. 

Whilst we were there the Dr came around and told us the procedure went well, although he did say that they almost lost Dad twice during surgery. The Surgeon said that he was grateful Dad was a fighter, and they were able to stabilize him quickly.

For the next 10 days I stayed with Mum and visited Dad every day in the hospital. Dad had good days and bad, with some intermittent confusion and a little delirium. The more he got out of bed, sat up or transferred/mobilized the more he returned to his usual cognitive self. The Dr's said he needs to be on IV antibiotics for two weeks and then would commence on oral antibiotic tablets after that.

As the 10 days came to an end I had to return home to continue with my own treatments. My appointment to see the oncologist came round and I was anxious however eager to find out the details of my treatment plan. Eager to start treatments to get these processes done. At the appointment it was explained to me that I had an increase in benefit by 1% by having chemotherapy. To say I was a little confused is an understatement. I didn't understand why we were even having the discussion as the actual chemotherapy risks far outweighed any benefit it would have towards my overall health or chance of reoccurrence.

So, I decided I wasn't going to have any chemotherapy and that I would continue on with radiation as my next treatment. Seeing the radiologist a few days later, it was decided that I would have 20 treatments spread over 4 weeks. I went through the assessment processes and then had the mapping planning done for the radiation machine.

The staff were very gentle and supportive ensuring I felt comfortable and informed. Knowing the plan ahead brought me relief and answers that helped me relax and focus on the treatment ahead. As I drove home that afternoon I was suddenly awash with emotion. As the tears streamed down my face I didn't really know why I was crying. 

The raw emotions that flood in and out constantly and unexpected are difficulty to understand. Something I have repeatedly been told through this journey so far are that it is normal for this emotional instability and to feel what I need to feel whenever it arises.

Mum called the day after I had seen the radiologist and said that Dad had finished his IV antibiotics and had been switched to oral antibiotics. She sounded strained and she continued on to say Dad had gone back into delirium. She was frustrated and angry not knowing what the cause of the delirium was. It's so difficult to hear him talking and not making sense compared to pre fall as he had no decline in cognitive ability at all.

In reviewing these few weeks my takeaway is this. Everything we have should be appreciated with gratitude. This is because in a blink of an eye everything can change. Stability can be undone so easily and without expectation. Watching someone lose their independence and memory function is heart breaking as there is nothing, we can do to help them with their suffering. 

This is where I will leave it for now. I just want everyone to know that whatever journey you are on, you are not alone. Those close to us don't necessarily understand what it is we are going through as our experiences are just that, ours. If someone hasn't been diagnosed with cancer, they won't understand the implications that has on one's own mental health or ability to manage the situation. I ask you to be kind to yourself and to ensure you have a supportive network around you. 

Sending love and strength to all of you ❤️

Tee 🩷 xox