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29 May 1999
Today I"m really, really scared. The occurrences of the past few days have been beyond sobering. They've shaken me to my bones, leaving me nowhere to hide. The tone is different now than it was 6 months ago. Back then she had to get through the more easily understood problems of infection and mechanical problems with her plumbing. While those were no less life-threatening, they stay gone once you beat them, and you kind of know what it takes to get through. Persistence, hard work and a strong healthy attitude make a difference.
It seems now that is no longer the case. She has "nodules" that appeared in the same region as her original tumor. Her surgeon took biopsies and thinks it's cancer. While he's not yet certain, he thinks the combination of symptoms point to cancer, such as: formation of a new fistula with new drainage, thickening of certain membranes/walls, and some others. If it's cancer now, reappearing DURING chemo, the outlook is bleak. If this cancer managed to grow during chemo, we are in trouble. He said Paige's time left could be "not long."
Boom. The bomb detonanted deep inside the pit of my belly. My legs felt wobbly, my breath shortened, my heart pounded and I became dizzy. This is the first time words like that had been uttered. Even in CCU all the doc's were optimistic. During the chemo all metrics were moving in the positive direction. How did this turn around so suddenly?
"W-w-wait, no" I thought. "What do you mean we've exhausted our options?" I wondered. I probed about other drugs, alternate treatments, etc. but no go. He began to speak of a plan for non-treatment.
Now it's entirely different than "if she beats this infection she'll be OK." Now it's like "if all that hard work, attitude, strength, chemo and prayers didn't do it, what will?"
Paige said the new fistula drained some blood and fluids today, so she'll back off the clear liquids input. This strikes fear into me. The doc associates these symptoms with invasive tumors. Scar tissue (the other possible source of the "nodules") would not cause that damage, at least not usually.
We're fighting the odds here, and deep down inside, where I usually dig to find strength and courage, I only find fear. The bucket hits the bottom of the well, and comes up empty. I feel like there is nothing I can do to help.
All I can do now is let Paige know she is loved unconditionally. If the biopsy reports come back cancer, then I'm going to suggest that we marry soon. That way, no matter what happens, I'll always know I married the girl of my dreams.
I'm not giving up, by the way. I'll still pray just as hard for Paige now as before. I'll just live each day with a little more fear and keep hoping for a miracle.