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!
Thoughts (Deep or Not), by Yours Truly 
Oh, you will be in such good hands with Kathie there! She is superb at navigating the medical system and will be kind but firm on your behalf – but why am I telling you this? You know it! Thinking of you frequently, remembering how the days pre- and post- went. I had a berth at Meg’s house for a week near the hospital, and the attention of the grands. Stella, age 10 at the time, had just finished her 5th-grade sex-ed segment called Growth and Development (although she and her friends referred to it as Gross and Disgusting); she was able to comment intelligently on all the body parts being removed (I had a complete hysterectomy) and it was helpful because, as you know, the word CANCER has the power to chill but good information really helps. My situation was like yours in that the whole thing seemed less than real most of the time, at least as far as CANCER was concerned, but I’d already known a number of women who’d undergone the DaVinci procedure with uneventful recoveries. A couple of them had had some chemo afterwards (“a couple of shots” was how that was described to me by one friend) but had also gone on to complete recoveries. Impression is that some docs like a modicum of chemo or radiation after the surgery as an extra precaution. Our beloved family doctor Mildred Chamberlin had endometrial cancer back in the 70’s, and was treated post-operatively with a radiation “seed”. She also made a ful recovery and went on into her 90’s with great vigor. I recommend a pile of bodice-ripper novels and Kathie’s excellent company as a variation from the workload you have described on Facebook. You may be pooped for a day or so afterwards but may be pleasantly surprised at how soon you begin to feel human. Will be cheering from the snows of New England!
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Thanks, Katy! I’ve been absolutely amazed at the number of women who have contacted me to say that they, or a close friend or family member, have gone through something similar and are doing great. There’s that silly voice in the back of your mind that persists in asking if you’re going to be one of those relatively lucky people or if it’s further along than suspected, but I know I’m in good hands on many fronts. We’ll keep everyone updated!
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