Pain is Temporary ~ Victory is Forever!

With as much time as I have spent in Cleveland over the last 6 months, I guess you could call it my second home.  This is not necessarily a bad thing – as it sits right on Lake Erie, full of beautiful beaches, and happens to be the home of the Rock n’ Roll Hall of Fame (not a bad little perk, either!).

What I am most fortunate for, however, is the fact that I am able to write a post in these days following my surgery.  As honest as I have been on this blog, I believe it’s safe to tell you, my readers, that there was a major fear inside of me that perhaps I wouldn’t make it through the surgery.  In the days leading up to it, I tried to squeeze as much love into those days as possible – in case they were my last.

 

Fortunately, they were not.  But unfortunately, the last few days have been extremely difficult.  All of my symptoms are simply parts of the healing process that everyone must endure after a major surgery like this.

 

I was quite blessed to have several family members by my side for Monday’s surgery.  My husband and I had been here since Wednesday, October 5 for pre-op testing; my uncle came in on Friday night and both of our mothers arrived on Sunday, as well as our pastor.

Bright and early on Monday morning, we all met in the lobby of the hotel and walked the few blocks down to the hospital to check in.  Around 6:30, they called me back to the pre-op room where I began the routine of getting ready for surgery.

I was wheeled to the operating room soon after, after some very emotional see you soon’s.  I remember waking up in the ICU approximately 4 hours post-operation, definitely quite stiff and incoherent.  Upon waking up, though, I knew the surgery had been successful.  This made me happy.

My surgery was this:

A left pneumonectomy, which is the complete removal of the left lung.  They also had to patch an area of the diaphragm where they disconnected the lung, but they didn’t take nearly as much as expected.  A big fear of the surgical team was having to peel away one of the tumors from the aorta itself, but once getting in there, they realized that it was mainly scar tissue and no live tumor.  As far as detachment of the other tumors, everything peeled back nicely from the pleural lining to the chest wall.
The surgical team successfully removed “99.9%” of the cancer and the cavity was basted with heated iodine to make sure everything had been done  to rid my body of cancer cells before sending me to recovery.
I was intubated during surgery, but they extubated me prior to taking me out of the OR.  I came to the ICU with a triple lumen IJ (internal jugular) central line, an arterial line, Foley catheter, Rob/Nel catheter, a nasogastric tube and an oxygen mask.

I woke up soon after getting to the ICU, about early afternoon-ish Monday, and I vaguely remember talking to my family.  By Monday evening, my oxygen mask was gone and a nasal cannula had taken its place.  Tuesday brought more good results – I was able to sit in a chair for the majority of the day.  The NG tube came out Tuesday morning, and the Rob/Nel catheter and arterial line were removed by Tuesday evening.

On Wednesday, I had to receive one unit of packed red blood cells, which gave me more energy for healing.  I also began a clear liquid diet – ice chips had never tasted so good!  🙂
I had hoped to be moved in their Step Down recovery floor by the end of day Wednesday, but there was no bed available.  A few minor issues with stabilizing my blood pressure had arisen late Tuesday/early Wednesday, so I stayed in the ICU one more night just to be on the safe side.
Upon speaking with the doctors during their rounds on Thursday morning, I was cleared to be moved.  Right before transferring me, they took out the Foley catheter and IJ line, then accessed my port to have an IV access in the case of an emergency.

 

 

After moving to a regular room on Thursday, I was visited by both my surgeon and the oncologist.  Dr. Murthy, the surgeon, reminded me of things that I had been told, but had forgotten.  I thought that I would return home upon discharge after surgery, but that was not going to be the case.  After going through a huge procedure like I had done, he wanted to keep me around the area until he saw me for a follow-up appointment.

So we did some schedule rearranging.  Instead of going home at the beginning of next week, I’m just planning on enjoying Cleveland for an extra 7 days.  I will meet with Dr. Murthy on the 20th and Dr. Anderson on the 21st, to address post-op care and to discuss the clinical trial.

Dr. Murthy reminded me that a procedure of this magnitude requires the patient to stay close to the doctor for a period of time so that nothing harmful or life-threating happens.  Being that I live nearly 10 hours away from this surgeon, I was not disagreeing with him one bit!

Regarding the clinical study, named the VIGIL Vaccine Trial:  Dr. Anderson stopped by yesterday and informed me that there had been enough live tumor extracted from the left lung to create 12 vaccines, the maximum number you can receive during this study.  (If I had only had enough live tumor to create 4 vaccines, I would have received only 4 doses.)

I will be randomly placed into one of two groups for the study – the vaccine group or the chemotherapy group.  If chosen for the vaccine group, I would receive one shot per month – basically an up and back trip to Cleveland.

If I am placed into the chemotherapy group, I will receive a 2 hour, outpatient infusion on Day #1 and Day #8, leaving 7 days between infusions with 3 weeks off between treatments.  It is undecided whether I’ll stay in Cleveland during those 7 days or make the trip up and back both times.  Both of the treatments will take us into the winter time, in which we’ll have to decide which method of transportation would be best to get back and forth.  I know that God will provide the best route for us and I trust in Him to get us there 🙂

Around October 25, I will receive word as to which study group I will be in.  On November 4, I’ll return to Cleveland to begin treatment for that particular group.
For more information regarding the VIGIL study, please click here or here.

While I’ve been having all of this (ahem!) fun in Cleveland, little Miss Abbie has been walking up a storm in southern Illinois!  She took her first few steps for Michael and I on October 2nd, but acted stubborn after that and refused to walk anymore.  Until my sisters got a hold of her, that is!  I received this pearl of a video the other night and nearly cried while watching it!

She has played with baby goats, visited her first pumpkin patch and was surprised by her aunt Jenny, who drove in from Oklahoma to help watch her.  She has definitely had tons of fun with her aunties, but I can’t wait to get home and see my baby girl!

 

There are not enough words to express my thankfulness to our family, friends and especially, to GOD, for pulling me through this surgery.  This recovery will be long and hard, and I’m ready for that – I hope.  I’m expecting a lot of “Slow down, Sarah” or “I got this, you sit down” over the next several weeks!!

It was an odd feeling, though, one that I shared with my husband in the ICU a few days after surgery.  I will fall asleep at night and begin to doze off – that period of sleep where you’re not functionally awake but you’re not quite into a deep sleep yet.  You know you’re still in your own body, but yet you feel paralyzed and in a daze.  (perhaps all of the drugs I received had a little something to do with these feelings, but perhaps not…)
I would jerk awake from this type of sleep and for an instant, not even a second, I would glance at the ceiling and just see white – not knowing where I am or who I am, and for a brief period of time, I felt a full, deep cleansing breath – one you can only feel with two lungs.

Then I would instantly return to reality and realize that I was in a hospital and my left lung is permanently gone.

I do not know what the future holds – whether this surgery will prove to be effective or not – though I pray that it will be.  But for that quick instant, I had the most calming, secure feeling that I have ever experienced in my life.

I’m interested to hear if anyone else has ever experienced something like that; and if a medical professional happens to be reading this and laughs because it is due to the drugs, just let me enjoy my pleasant thought of what it could be 🙂

I appreciate every prayer, well wish and good vibe that continues to be sent in the direction of my family and I.  I look forward to a short recovery with as little pain as possible and I know that our family and friends will be supporting us along this entire journey, in whichever direction it takes us.
We love all of you and appreciate what you have done and continue to do for us!

“Pain is temporary, but victory is forever!”
I may endure this pain, but it will not last.  I will enjoy this victory, because I have won!