Just got the word that the remaining post-op tests came back clear – no further treatment needed!  I had heard my land line ring and go to the machine shortly after noon, but I was napping in front of NCIS: Los Angeles re-runs and assumed it was the usual wrong number.  A few minutes ago, following lovely visits from Sean Lightfoot (bringing this evening’s dinner, which I’m about to dig in to) and Lori Shaffer, I saw a light blinking on the answering machine.  The first new message was from my mom Friday night, just checking in, and the second was today’s call from my doctor.  (On a Sunday?!  Right?!  As if I didn’t already really like him!)  I’ll see him again in about two and a half weeks for a post-op check-in, but this news is so welcome.

This past week has been pretty amazing.  First, dear friend Kathie Turner – who left Colorado to come here! – came in the Saturday before the procedure and returned home safely yesterday.  She helped keep me sane in the lead-up and cared-for in the aftermath, and I am so grateful that she was able to do this.  She has also gotten to meet several of my friends, and I think she feels even better knowing I have “people” here.  And the food!  I have been blown away by the generosity of those who have visited and/or brought food – I’m getting extremely spoiled.  The love, prayers, karma, voodoo, etc., that all of you have shared to freely have buoyed my spirits more than I can say.  Physically, I’m feeling better than I had thought I would so soon post-“Major Surgery” (as my mom’s doctors and nurses kept having to remind her when she had a hysterectomy at age 80), but I know there’s work yet for my body to do.  I’m looking forward to getting back to a routine; however, in the meantime, I’ll enjoy being able to concentrate on the task at hand.  Thank you all; I am beyond blessed.

So, as my friends have already posted, surgery went well yesterday; in fact, when I saw my doctor this morning (as he came in saying he wanted to make sure he hadn’t left a clamp inside!), he proclaimed it was boring, which is, of course, a very good thing.  We’re still waiting on a couple of pathology reports to come back, but he’s pretty confident we got it all.  It looked like some of the cancer cells had spread into the wall of the uterus, making it Stage IA, but that most likely I won’t need any further treatment (just check-ins).

Everyone at the hospital was very nice and helpful, from the nurse who greeted me to head back to pre-op with a chorus of “Me and Mrs., Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones” (thought of you, Kurt Hall – I think you were the only other person to do that since our time at SLU in the early 80s!) to my wheelchair driver who took me down to the driveway where Kathie was waiting with the car.

All in all, I’m feeling better than expected; walking isn’t exactly comfortable, but very doable, and I just made my first trip upstairs at home and discovered that as long as I take the stairs slowly, I feel that less than walking on a straight surface (different muscles involved is my guess, more legs than abs).  And I think the uncertainty of waiting and not knowing was taking a bigger toll on my psyche that I had realized.  Having it done and having a pretty good idea that it’s this good an outcome makes me feel that a huge weight is off my shoulders, and friends who saw me afterward commented on how chipper I seemed and that I had the twinkle in my eyes back.  I was also helped yesterday by the people who came; I went into pre-op with an entourage:  Kathie Turner, Aleshia Ortiz, Edie Bird, and Judi Naeter, who were able to come back and keep me company after getting changed, settled in, and the IV going, and I’m pretty sure we laughed more than most waiting-for-surgery folks.  Edie also said a prayer and blessing for me, and led us in a guided meditation, focusing on parts of the body, concentrating on the breath, finding some peace and centering.  Post-surgery, Kathie and Aleshia were waiting for me when I got to my room, then Kevin Hampton came by with some lovely flowers (pictured in the image with this post), and later Brook Clubbs stopped by and had a wonderful chat, especially when she realized that my friend Kathie was Kathleen Turner, past president of NCA (National Communication Association).  I had a decent night’s sleep (for a hospital), and the food was surprisingly good (meatloaf and mashed potatoes last night that actually had spice and salt!  Broccoli that wasn’t mush and was still fairly bright green!).  Overall, this was as positive an experience as a hospital stay could be.  I don’t want to go back anytime soon, but it could have been so much worse!  And yes, I do know that this was “Major Surgery,” and I will be working (psychologically) to take things slowly and carefully as I build strength back up.

Thanks again to all of you for your support, too.  This saga would have been much more difficult without you.  Hugs to you all!

My friend Kathie arrived at the STL airport yesterday afternoon, and after enjoying a huge lunch at the Blue Owl Cafe, we’ve done all we can to get ready for tomorrow and the days ahead. The run-up has been such a flurry that I think I’ll enjoy the upcoming enforced sleep. 😉

It is in the doctor’s hands now, assisted by all of the prayers, good wishes, e-hugs, karma, etc., with which all of you have blessed me in these surreal weeks. I’m due at the hospital at 8 a.m., with the surgery likely somewhere around 10 a.m. We’ll keep you posted as soon as we can. Thank you again, dear ones, for your love and support.

At this point one week from today, my surgery will be complete, and my doctor and I will know more about what is ahead.  These past few days have been full of paperwork and preparation:  arranging for four weeks of medical leave for recovery time, getting class materials and voice lesson information ready to turn over to those who will be covering my teaching duties while I’m out, working ahead on my second-eight-weeks online music appreciation class, setting up my pre-op appointment (this Wednesday at 8:15), talking with the financial office from the hospital (St. Francis Health Center) about an estimate of what I’ll owe them, etc., etc.  I think I’m going to need a good rest once the surgery is over!  Still, it’s good that things are moving ahead.

In the meantime, my long-time friend (of 30-something years!) from our New Orleans days, Kathie Turner, has arranged to come out this Saturday and stay until the next Saturday, getting me over the hump that I’ve been told the first week will be.  And one of my good friends at the university has organized a cool thing called “Mealtrain,” where people can sign up to bring meals to me, especially while I’m not likely up to doing a lot of cooking.  (Here’s the link, in case you’re interested – pretty cool idea, although it looks like I’m pretty well taken care of for those early days when I won’t feel like fending for myself:  https://www.mealtrain.com/trains/2l2me8.)

Figuring out how to cover the costs left over after insurance covers what it will is going to be challenging.  I’ve already satisfied my deductible (it’s already been an interesting year…), and this surgery will max out my out-of-pocket costs.  That leaves me with an estimated $3,500 to pay (just to the hospital), and I was scraping the bottom, financially, before all of this.  Still, it needs to be done, and I’ll take it one thing at a time.

To borrow a phrase, “I have always depended on the kindness of strangers,” or in this case, friends.  The support I’ve received from near and far has made this process much more manageable.  Along with what I’ve already mentioned, the picture with this blog has its own story.  A good friend at the university, Lori Mueller, shares my delight in photos and videos of baby goats (and baby animals in general); this appeared in my mailbox at school today.  In the midst of all of this, I still have plenty of reasons to smile!

It’s been an eventful day:  I met my new (gynecologic oncology) doctor, and I have a date for my surgery.  First, what everyone wants to know:  surgery will be Monday, March 12, which happens to be the first day of my spring break (whoopee…).  😉  The good news about that is that it’s one less week that my colleagues will need to cover classes and lessons for me.

So, the doctor’s office.  First, I realized last night that I wished I had asked someone to come with me to help listen, ask questions, etc.  Good friend and colleague from the accounting department, Alisha Ortiz, to the rescue!  First, the receptionist greeted me more like a new friend than an unknown patient, and then I filled out beaucoup paperwork.  I really like Dr. Jacobs.  He started out by asking what I had been told, what I knew of what was going on, which allowed him to get a feel for who I was and how I thought – pretty brilliant communication tactic, I think.  Before long, we began to realize that he had a wonderful and somewhat twisted sense of humor (not unlike mine, or that of most of my family).  Alisha and I concurred that he would fit in on one of our group wine days.  Anyway, it was clear that he knew his stuff and was good at communicating that with his patients.  Nifty fact:  for 80% of women who have this condition, the hysterectomy takes care of the condition, with no chemo or radiation needed.  Pretty good odds!

The procedure will be performed laparoscopically, using the da Vinci robot technology.  Another flash of the doc’s humor:  he asked if I knew much about that, and when I replied that it was mainly from the hospital’s commercials, he snorted that that was just propaganda!  Anyway, if everything goes as expected, there should be no staples and few if any stitches (mainly glue, apparently), which should help with recovery.  They’ll keep me in the hospital overnight for observation and then send me home the next day.  I’m glad my first contact with the doctor went so well and that the date is set.  In a weird way, this is starting to feel a bit like an adventure.  It’s not one I would have chosen, but I’m learning so much about an area about which I knew next to nothing, and I’ve been reminded in so many ways of the friends from past and present who have stepped forward with encouragement, information, personal experience, and bad jokes (can’t ever stop laughing!).  As Clarence, the guardian angel in It’s a Wonderful Life, quotes Mark Twain to George Bailey, “No man is a failure who has friends.”  Peace, dear friends.

I heard from my doctor’s office this morning that I have an appointment set with the new doctor (oncologist) this Wednesday morning.  I feel better now that the wheels are in motion.  In the meantime, I have been overwhelmed by the support and love shown by you, my friends, family, and “family of choice.”  I did not cry over the initial diagnosis, but there were some happy tears as I read your responses to my previous post.  Thank you!  That means more than I can say.

Bad (good) jokes help, too.  From LONG-time friend, Becky Maus:  why do they call it a HYS-terectomy? It should be a HERS-terectomy……  😉  I do plan to continue posting silly things on Facebook, and political things (thanks for bearing with me, those of you whose views differ), as well as these updates.  As I think I’ve heard said elsewhere, I have cancer (still seems odd to write that or say it), but I am not cancer.  Love and peace to all of you!

I woke up this morning for the first time with this thought:  I have cancer.  Such an odd, unexpected thought.  I don’t feel sick, so it feels unreal that something that serious is going on inside me.  I don’t seem to be panicking (yet, anyway); perhaps this is the wrapping-your-head-around-it phase, or perhaps my current matter-of-fact approach is my real, deep-inside reaction.  My mind is racing around, though, making concentration iffy.  I did manage to teach a voice lesson and run some rehearsals yesterday afternoon after receiving the news yesterday morning.  I had debated going back in to work (for a moment), but I ended up glad I did – something else to focus on for a while (lots of good information about this particular type of cancer on the web…).

So, a little more detail:  it is endometrial cancer, which is one of the most common gynecological cancers and is very treatable.  My regular gynecologist is pretty confident that we’ve caught it early.  She’s recommending me to the one gynecological oncology specialist in town, who did his medical school degrees at the University of Missouri (a.k.a. Mizzou) and also completed a fellowship at M.D. Anderson (he moved back to the area to be closer to home).  I’m waiting to hear from them about an appointment and a hysterectomy, after which they will be able to assess the stage of the disease (including testing lymph nodes to see if it has spread).  At this point, the outlook is positive, so I’m holding on to that.

I’ll update this from time to time.  I’ve learned from some other friends who have battled this type of disease that keeping friends in the loop is important and somewhat cathartic.  I appreciate all of you!