About-Face!

And now…….the first glimmer of hope we’ve seen since this whole nightmare began.

Will’s oncologist called this morning to tell us that the final pathology results showed something entirely different from what had been expected: his pancreatic tumor is an unusual one, called a carcinoid tumor, that may be operable!! Surgery wouldn’t be curative, the doctor pointed out, but it could reduce or eliminate Will’s symptoms and possibly even give him more time.

Who says prayer doesn’t work?

We’re going to see a cancer surgery specialist at Oregon Health and Science University on Monday who will be able to tell us if there’s a chance the tumor actually is resectable, meaning much of his pancreas will likely need to be removed. This could throw him instantly into diabetes, but we can deal with that—it’s why they make insulin, you know? But oh, what a marvelous thing it would be to have more time with him! More time to reminisce, more time to appreciate each other and our four beautiful children, more time to watch our grandchildren grow. Could it be possible??

I’m almost afraid to hope, but I have nothing else to hang onto. I do think Will’s decline has leveled off; he is eating and getting around a little bit, and his innards are doing their level best to offload that big impaction. (Not to put too fine a point on things, but thanks to intestinal sluggishness, he had a pretty nasty case of what we in the “biz” call FOS Syndrome. I leave it to the reader to interpret the meaning.) He hasn’t been vomiting, nor has he complained of even moderate pain; he simply has no get-up-and-go, and that’s understandable given the circumstances.

Meanwhile, Will’s sister is here, and she is not only extremely helpful, but great to have around. I hadn’t seen her since my oldest was a baby, but we’ve stayed in contact over the years, and when she got here we picked up right where we left off. She is the one sibling who’s stuck with Will through thick and thin….and here she is, right by his side at the time when he needs family the most.

Yes, as far as I’m concerned this is all undisputable evidence of the power of prayer. Even if it turns out to be a false hope, at least we’ll have had it for a little while……and for now, that is enough.

 

Published by bpnurse

I'm a retired registered nurse and writer who also happens to be street-rat crazy, if the DSM-IV.....oops, 5---is to be believed. I was diagnosed with bipolar I disorder at the age of 55, and am still sorting through the ashes of the flaming garbage pile that my life had become. Here, I'll share the lumps and bumps of a late-life journey toward sanity.... along with some rants, gripes, sour grapes and good old-fashioned whining from time to time. It's not easy being bipolar in a unipolar world; let's figure it out together.

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