Waking up to life

Well, it’s done! 

The surgery is complete and I'm now just trying to recover and recuperate. 

I don’t mind saying that I was terrified of this surgery, or any surgery for that matter. Just the idea of someone cutting into my body is enough to send my brain into paroxysms of apprehensive flight response.

Basically, I want to go away. 

As my granddaughter Junie would say, “hide and go seek... you hide Papa”. 

I’ll hide alright! 

But then another more aware part of my brain (named Rose) cracks the whip and I find myself in a hospital bed. 

Here I am, groggily snapping a selfie (or maybe Wilson took the photo) of me and my happy face sporting, breathing exerciser that I have befriended and named Wilson. 

He, I,  and our other buddy, Morphine have been having a ball, but sometimes Wilson is a real drag! Buda-bing!

Me and my new buddy Wilson, clowning around

Rose has been around all afternoon running to Tim Hortons for tea and donuts, she is so great, what a peach. 

Everyone here at the Royal Alex has been terrific and they’ve been taking good care of me. 

It’s a long list of kind people and maybe it’s the drugs wearing off but the first really memorable person that comes to mind from surgery today is Michelle in post op. 

I had no idea what was happening but when I slowly and befudlingly clawed my way back into the land of the living, hers was the voice of reality that I clung to. It may have gone something like this, “Doug, are you with us? Welcome back! I need you to squeeze my hand, Doug…Doug, come on, give us a squeeze, you’re doing fine”. 

Well, Michelle you will probably never know how wonderful it was to hear your kind voice as it slowly sank in that I had indeed survived the surgery. Not that it was particularly dangerous but we all know that unplanned things can happen in surgery, and with my overactive imagination on overdrive for the past few days, survival felt like a miracle. 

The surgery took place in Theatre 5 and everyone, from the 2 anesthetists, (the primary doctor and the resident named Allie), to the nurses and Dr. Laing who was my surgeon, were all awesome. 

I am not shy about telling my medical caregivers how much I appreciate them and I have become downright chatty around here in the intensive recovery room. That’s what I’m calling it. There are 4 beds and I hear they are usually fully occupied but there are only 2 of us tonight with one nurse shared between us. And from what I’ve seen, the extra care is definitely needed.

It’s a 20 minute ordeal to get me up to the washroom and when I get there I’m crammed into our tiny bathroom with my IV pole and the box that is connected to the chest drain tube and a very shy bladder!

We had a little drama with the chest tube while Rose was visiting. We were trying to get me out of bed for the first time and when I sat up it revealed a big puddle of blood where the tube had been oozing for a while.

I'm not too fond of the feeling of blood pouring out of me, but it was quickly staunched along with my dignity as I was wrestled into a clean gown and thankfully, a pair of boxers. 

The night resident doctor was called to look at the suture and he fiddled with the tube and pronounced it ready for a new dressing and it’s been good ever since.

I brought along some noise cancelling headphones and ear plugs and my tablet with a detachable keyboard and I’m glad that I had all this stuff last night. 

How to get through the night in a hospital ward

There was some kind of medical drama with the other patient and it sounded like at least 5 people in attendance. Eventually the kerfuffle died down though and it all seems to be under control. 

Writing in bed at 3:00 am and listening to music while pandemonium breaks out across the room is a very strange occurrence but I’m smart enough to know when there is nothing I can do to help. 

Strangely enough I feel well rested after a weird, disjointed night and in a strange way, it's kind of fun! I've met some lovely  members of the marvelous nursing staff here during my stay.

 

There have been a long succession of nurses looking after me. Starting with Phyllis and then Chou and Jo & Tommy & Christie & Kristen & Hannah & Elisabeth & Alicia and Divya and  many others at one time or another, all a blessing to me. Thank you!

Today it's Grace.

Usually she works downstairs in pre- admitting but today she is picking up an extra shift. It's the first time in 8 years she has worked in this observation room and through a fortunate confluence of life streams, we've come together to be buddies for the day.

I appreciate all of the little kindnesses that she's showered over me today and I want her to know she's doing a great job. 

I did have surgery, but I'm doing ok, due in part to Grace and the rest of the nursing staff and how well they've done their job. So no, I'm not shy about saying it out loud.

But after about the 15th time I was forced to shut up about it while they stuck a thermometer in my mouth to take my temperature, I'm starting to think they may be getting tired of hearing it!

Rose of course shows her appreciation in more tangible ways, she made some chocolate muffins but couldn't bring them in for the staff, so she picked them up some Turtles and Werthers (pre-wrapped goodies are ok).

It doesn't hurt my stock around here to have such a sweet and personable wife/advocate! 

Rose though, just can't help trying to be helpful. 

I have a dickens of a time getting her to sit down and just relax and talk with me. Instead she wants to redecorate my space, “ if we just move this over here and unplug this unnecessary equipment it will be much better, what's that beeping? It sounds kind of urgent!”

She's a total sweetie, but she makes me nervous around here. I handed her my phone for a second while we were walking because I had no pockets. She  put it in her back pocket and immediately headed for the bathroom! Of course my brain immediately goes to the worst case scenario and I sent the nurse off for a bag of rice ( you know why). 

Just kidding, but Rose was sure surprised to see me chasing her down the hallway trying to get my phone back so soon after my surgery.

Silly it may be, but it's definitely hard to relax with those sorts of visions in my head. Of course it was all good and Rose laughed at me when she got back with my completely dry phone. 

But I can't help it, I'm me. Completely unapologetic and proud to be me. And on our 39th anniversary, I'm proud to be married (still) to a completely amazing, beautiful, kind, compassionate and sometimes scary, woman of God. 

I talked to one of the surgeons today and he told me it went great, they were able to remove all of the tumor even though they had to make a little bit bigger incision in my side to get it all out. They also took some lymph nodes around the tumor and are sending them off to be analyzed and hopefully they will not be malignant. 

This morning I had 6 different cables and tubes attached to me and now it's just the chest drain tube and that appears to be doing it's job and they are happy with the amount and colour of the fluid. 

They just moved me into a room with 3 women but at least I have a window and a privacy curtain I can close. My gown tying skills leave a lot to be desired and Magic Mike I am definitely not!

For the most part, things are on track except for a persistent air leak in my left lung that is keeping me here much longer than expected.  

I'm tired and discouraged, but we are slowly inching towards my discharge and life is good. God is good. In many ways I feel like the luckiest guy in the world. So much love, prayer and support has come my way through all of this that it has really been a blessing.

Rose heard a beautiful song called Brighter Days by Blessing Offor and thought it would cheer me up (10 days in the hospital seems like forever) and boy did that backfire! It's a wonderful song, but sometimes when you're going through stuff, your emotions just can't cope with forward looking hope songs. 

Check it out here

https://youtu.be/I6lp1Oxb9L4

Whatever happens now, I thank each and every one of you who has been on the journey with me and taken time out of your busy lives to read this blog and reach out to Rose and I with love and kindness. 

The meaning of life is this – RELATIONSHIPS

Like you, I've known this for a long time but I haven't always acted like it. If I've learned anything at all going through this illness it's to value the people in my life more.

Covid has put barriers between us and particularly so for me as fear of contracting the virus before my surgery has stopped me from spending time with friends and family and church.

I miss the hugs, I miss the meals and laughs, I miss my photography club buddies.

I've always been blessed in so many ways but particularly when it comes to my wife and family and friends. Thank you for being there for me. Happy 39th anniversary Rose, you're one in a million❤

Waiting for the Enemy

 

Headline - Granddaughter & cat team up in attempt to save mans life

It started innocently enough in December with a cold. 

This particular cold entered our house attached to a little sweetie named Junie, and it packed a real punch with both Rose and I suffering with it a long while.

For some reason I was slower to recover, and never fully did.

Then it was January and I started to have very strong allergic reactions to a cat we have had for years. 

All of a sudden I had a whole bunch of new, asthma- like symptoms. After a few days of this I went to our family doctor and came away with a prescription for a salbutamol puffer and a requisition for a chest x-ray and a bunch of blood tests as well as an appointment to have my breathing measured.

Then I got the phone call that changed everything.

I had pneumonia, but on the chest x-ray there was something suspicious on my lung, a shadow, maybe nothing, but maybe something serious.

Another chest x-ray led to a referral to a lung specialist and an emergency appointment to have a CT scan in a couple of weeks. 

But hey, just in case you’re not freaked out by all this scary news Mr. Petry, your ecg showed some irregularities and I’ve scheduled you for a cardiac stress test next week, yikes!

I should say at this point that I am very grateful that all the tests and doctors’ appointments happened so swiftly. Today is February 20th and my first doctor’s appointment was on January 25th and since that time I’ve had ten different medical test appointments culminating with a CT scan on Friday the 18th and 6 hours in the emergency department for an unexplained very strong throbbing pain in my right side towards the back.

It was a long night, but of course the pain subsided greatly over time and they ruled out a few things and sent me home about 1:00 am Sunday morning to await my referral appointment with a lung specialist. I was told that they would call when they are back in the office on Tuesday or when they see the CT scan.

The ER doctor did confirm that there is some kind of mass on my left lung and after some probing questions from me he did say that he couldn’t see anything amiss in my abdomen even though that’s where most of my mysterious pains seem to be coming from.

A few days have passed and I now have an appointment to see the Lung Specialist at the Royal Alec Hospital on March 14th so that’s great! I also have an appointment to have my lung capacity re-tested at the orders of the lung specialist.

Until then, I am in a kind of limbo, knowing that there is something terribly wrong, fearing the worst and yet trying desperately to hang on to some hope.

Rose has been amazing; kind, considerate and loving as she tries to navigate through this unexpected, frightening time in our lives. I know I’m not helping her state of mind as I get our financial papers, life insurance, will and all the other need to know issues dealt with. 

There is a lot to know with two rental properties and their finances and possible issues as well as our own house and all its little foibles that only I know about.

Where is the switch for the furnace?

Where are all the water shutoff valves?

What about those interconnected wireless smoke alarms, they are a pain in the derriere sometimes!

What about the security system, passwords for accounts and apps on my phone, where are those important papers, keys, warranties and instructions, etc?

We tend to assume that we’ll be around for a long, long time but that can change in a heartbeat!

Rose and I have tended to compartmentalize our various jobs around the house and in our marriage and all of a sudden we are realizing that we both need to know the other persons jobs as well as our own.

Right now, poor Rose is getting a crash course on on-line banking and general computer skills and I think she’s now regretting leaving it to me for all these years. I know she’ll be fine, but if the worst happens, feeling confident to take care of these day to day tasks will definitely help her a lot.

2

Well the enemy has now arrived! 

It’s April now and the weather is beautiful with sunshine every day and the snow melting from the yard at a furious pace, spring is here at last and along with the spring comes the news that we’ve been dreading. Lung CANCER has been confirmed at last. 

Where did it come from? What does it mean for our lifestyle and future? How will we treat it and what will that mean for our lives?

These are the questions that we are asking ourselves right now. Today is a week after my bronchoscopy at the Royal Alex hospital and yesterday I received an email from MyAHS Connect, the Alberta Health services website that allows patients to view their own test results online. What a great blessing this system has been as we try to navigate this illness.

When I had the bronchoscopy, the doctor told us to expect a call with the results in about a week and that is today, I expect he will have some kind of a treatment plan worked out so he can offer us some hope along with the news. 

I wonder how doctors feel about this new system; I wouldn’t be surprised if I saw the results of my test even before he did!

Speaking of the bronchoscopy, I DID NOT ENJOY IT! Not that you are meant to of course, a necessary evil I suppose. But for a person like me who has not given birth or had much in the way of illness or injury over the years it was a bit of a pain. Once again though, I feel compelled to say that all the health care people, doctors, nurses and support staff have been terrific and I very much appreciate them!

On the other hand, I am a model patient, following instructions compulsively and trying to be as cooperative and compliant as possible, so I suppose that may help things go more smoothly on occasion.

We don’t know yet what he will say when he calls, or what the treatment will be but for now I am trying to be as proactive as possible and I’m chugging our frozen cranberry and chokecherry juice daily in an effort to give my body a fighting chance.

It just so happens that my happy place, (the cabin of course) is covered with berry bushes with branches weighed down by Saskatoons, Cranberries, Chokecherries and Black Currant/Gooseberries (we have both and It’s hard to tell them apart).

A berry healthy breakfast

We have a freezer full of various berries and juice so I’m well fixed for anti-oxidants and those nasty free radicals had better watch out! Chokecherries in particular look promising as a cancer fighter but don’t worry, beyond guzzling juice I plan on doing whatever the doctors and my wife tell me to.

Rose is a bit of a tiger when it comes to treatment and she is determined as can be that between God, the doctors, herself and Chokecherry juice, the dream team can beat this thing.

3

I’ve had a while now to get used to the idea that I may have cancer and now that it’s been confirmed the focus shifts to next steps, getting my affairs in order so to speak. Beyond that, what can I do to help my body fight this as much as it can? As a Christian I actually believe in the power of prayer so the prayer will continue and probably get more intense!

Not that it’s easy when it comes to something like this. I’ve prayed for others hundreds if not thousands of times and I absolutely know without a shadow of doubt that in as much as it depends on God, prayers are often answered. 

So I will ask for prayer and I will pray for myself, slipping these prayers in alongside all the others that make up my usual prayer life. But still it seems strange to be praying for myself since the usual prayer ratio is about 50 to 1 in favour of friends, relatives, church members, our city, our country and this messed up world. It feels a little bit selfish to bump myself up towards the front of the queue.

One encouraging note is that the cancer is likely stage 1 at this point, meaning that it is of a relatively small size and doesn’t appear to have spread to the lymph nodes or beyond the left lung.

In one of those coincidences that God is famous for, a common cold that entered the house through my little granddaughter got my immune system ramped up into high gear. Helped along by my usual dosing of herbal antivirals, it kicked up such a fuss that I could barely breath!  

Rose immediately began a series of “keep the cat” measures that includes using the furminator cat fur remover, rubbing Zoey down with Allerpet, vacuuming the house about 4 times a week and buying a high end air purifier. Yet in spite of all her herculean efforts, my dormant cat allergies finally drove me to do what is obvious to most people.  

A few nights with a head that felt like a solid block of wood absolutely forced me past my stubborn male reluctance to see a doctor and ultimately caused the cancer to be discovered at a very early stage, so for that I give thanks!

4

Well it’s April 8th and we heard from the doctor today. It’s officially stage 1 and they are booking me in for a Pulmonary Lobectomy in May. Apparently with this procedure called VATS (video-assisted thoracoscopic surgery) one of the 5 lobes of your lungs is removed through three small incisions and after a few days in the hospital, the patient recovers at home in two to three weeks.

Apparently my lung function now is perfect so with one lobe removed I should have about 80% of my current lung capacity after the surgery. This means that my Everest climb is off (just kidding) but otherwise I should be ok for most day to day exertions. 

They’re going to do a PET scan before the surgery to make sure that there are no other areas of concern and if all goes well I won’t need chemotherapy, so yahoo on that!

Emotionally, I feel I’ve done ok so far, with the possible exception of a few days ago. I made the mistake of listening to Jason Isbell and the 400 unit sing “If we were Vampires” with headphones on and that led to a good cry as I thought about not being here for Rose and for Junie and Kait and April.

P.S. the song is not about vampires so don’t be afraid to give it a listen. 

https://youtu.be/JV7c8V5XLk8

We’ve probably all lived it, or at least seen those movies where the ones left behind have to deal with the loss of a loved one and the thought of doing that to my family is painful in the extreme.

Rose of course believes rather strongly that it is all going to be ok, and if you’ve read any of my other writing, you will know that she is usually right!