On
Tuesday, January 6th, my husband rode his bike to work like most
other days. I remember him smiling and
waving goodbye to me as he rode off. It’s
only a 10-12 minute bike ride to work, so it’s not too strenuous. Later in the day, I received a message or two
that he was feeling kind of bleh, but he is so busy at work that we didn’t have
time to verbally talk. About 4pm, he
called me. He was straining quite a bit
and trying to tell me that he was having immense and extreme pain in his right
flank (right back side of his back).
Just as I started to ask him a question, he grunted and the line went
dead. Within two minutes, I received a
phone call from his boss who told me that James was in extreme pain and they
have called 9-1-1. He told me that he
would call me back once they determine what hospital he would be going to.
From
James’ account of the events, he told me that he was experiencing severe pain
in his right flank. He asked his
co-worker to look up if salt caused kidney pain, since he had been eating
sunflower seeds all day. Less than 30
seconds after asking his co-worker to do that, the pain hit him harder and he
yelled out in pain. He stumbled up from
his chair and staggered to his boss’s office, just two doors down. He fell into the chair near his boss’s desk
and with labored breath told him to call 9-1-1.
After calling for the ambulance, James attempted to do anything to
alleviate the pain and went down to the ground.
He was sweating profusely, even sweating through his shirt, and had to
rip his tie and belt off to feel like he could breathe.
When
the paramedics arrived, their attempts to maneuver James into a sitting
position or even a position to take his blood pressure, caused James excruciating
pain. After identifying all of his
symptoms, the paramedics believed that James was suffering from kidney
stones. By all accounts, they are
extremely painful and taking him to the hospital was the best option. James continued in extreme pain and so while
in the ambulance, the EMT’s gave him a small dose of Fentanyl. James described the affect as a long 30
seconds to take effect, but a beautiful feeling, overall.
I
had arrived at the hospital before the ambulance even arrived so I was able to
see James be taken from the ambulance.
As he got closer to where I was standing, I was struck by how white he
was. He was so pale that his lips had
minimal color. He, however, was feeling
no pain but was exhausted from the 30 minutes of excruciating pain he had
endured.
While
at the Emergency Room, the doctor completed a urinalysis and found blood in his
urine. He told us that that was still
typical for kidney stones, but felt that a CT scan would know for sure. After another hour, James was taken to have a
CT scan. A short while later, the doctor
came out to tell us that there were NO stones found. He did not have kidney stones. However, they did see 3 masses on his kidneys
instead. One on his left and two on his
right. The suggestion at this point was
that a follow-up CT scan with contrast (dye) would be warranted to see things
more specifically.
At
this point, the worry set in.
We
got an appointment with the doctor’s office a couple days later and I could
tell that she felt that it was important enough to do a simple exam and the
refer out to the urologist who was an expert and who would request specific
tests.
The
worry continued.
Life
at home was filled with anxiety, sadness, overwhelm, tears, questions, research
and prayers. James was deeply struck by
anxiety and concern over the future. The
anxiety was almost debilitating. The
nausea was immense. While we tried to
make things as normal as possible for the children, there was still a heavy air
of sadness and worry.
……
As
scheduled, James went and had his CT scan with contrast. My emotions were full and I felt the worry of
what could be. I held them in and tried
to remain strong for my husband, who was still feeling the effects of his
anxieties. Tears seemed to flow from
both our eyes randomly and without any catalyst. They just fell because the reservoirs were
full.
We
awaited the results.
With
new technology, we knew that the results would be posted online and we could
read the radiologist's report whenever they were posted. After one week, the results were posted. We scanned the report and saw that James is
in relatively good health. Then we saw
the words, “likely malignant” and “refer for tissue analysis”. Sigh.
The
worry continued. We set ourselves up to try to wait the 2+ weeks it would take to see the doctor for a consultation
regarding these test results. It became difficult to imagine waiting 17 more days.
As
religious and spiritual people, we felt the need to be connected to the spirit
more so than we were. For us and for
James specifically, this meant more time on his knees praying and doing things
that connected him with the spirit more, including good music and good
books. He also felt the strong desire to
connect more individually with each of his children. Worrying so much over his future had called
into question how much of their future he would be present for. This drew him closer to his children in ways that only he can describe. He also felt the great desire to attend the
temple – a building for us (in the LDS religion) that is sacred and peaceful and where the spirit is often
felt when the heart and mind are searching.
These efforts in searching for a deeper connection had a strong impact and although James was physically
still experiencing pain and fatigue, his spirits were lifted and he felt more
hope. This high, if you will, had its
ebbs and flows, and there were still moments of anxiety and fear, but overall,
he was feeling more ready to take on the journey of “likely malignant”.
Over
the 3 weeks since the incident first happened, James had lost 15-16
pounds. Not the greatest way to lose
weight, but we hope his appetite returns.
Finally,
the day of the consultation with the doctor.
The appointment time was moved back 45 minutes, to 4:45pm. An entire day to wait. Both James and I kept ourselves busy to stay
distracted. Him at work and me at home
with our daughter, who at 4 years-old is a good distraction. Tinges of anxiety rested with us during the
day and in the car ride to the urologist’s office. Finally, the doctor came in and he explained
from the beginning that he appreciated our willingness to push the appointment
back and was apologetic for changing the appointment time, but felt it was
important that he meet with us as soon as he could. Both James and I later admitted that we felt
our back tighten at that moment, preparing ourselves for further news.
The
doctor was wonderful and he explained things so well. Cutting to the chase, as he put it, he let us
know that the tumor on James’ kidney is of the highest likelihood to be cancer, as it is a solid tumor, and that his recommendation is immediate surgery.
Even
as I type this, the emotions hit me.
James, of course, felt the sting too upon hearing those words. True to form, I held my emotions back. For some reason I felt that I did not want my
husband to be affected by my emotional weakness. James dabbed at his eyes for a short
moment. The doctor then went on to
explain all of the details and the procedures of how he would manage the
treatment.
First,
he said that renal cancer has no cure.
And it does not respond to radiation or chemotherapy. Another sting. He said that the common procedure is to do
surgery and cut out the tumor and surrounding tissue. The surrounding tissue will be tested for further
cancerous cells. He said that we caught
it early.
Second,
he told us that since James is in good health and physical condition and is
young, he has a good prognosis. He will
do follow-up appointments for 3 years to see if any more grows, but after that,
if all goes well, he will be good to go.
After surgery, James will be down for about a month, but he hoped for
good results due to his age and health.
Finally,
he told us that he is the expert in this area, both geographically and with regards
to dealing with surgery related to kidneys and renal cancer. Strangely enough, he and James have the same
birthday, thus the doctor felt a connection to James. This created a connection for James, too and he felt good about it.
James
feels the weight of it, but feels the hope of it, too. I am glad that he feels some alleviation
finally. Overall, it’s good to know what
you are dealing with so you know what steps you need to take.
Surgery
will be early March. Just after my
birthday and after my son’s birthday, so we will have a chance to celebrate
good things before we turn to helping James heal. The funny thing is, my mother finished her
last radiation treatment 2 days after James was taken to the ER. I spent 6 months taking care of her and
helping her to deal with her cancer diagnosis.
Perhaps, just maybe, my time with her was my training to prepare to help
my husband. If so, I hope that I stop at
2 patients. :o)
