Cancer Surgery In Times of Covid-19
I couldn’t have chosen a worse time, but for the third time in 20 years I needed a major abdominal surgery to right-size my disease. My wonderful oncologist could no longer tackle with job with pills and maintenance chemotherapy alone.
With inpatient COVID-19 volumes rising, the hospital made a policy decision to ban visitors, including family, so it was just me and my crack medical team for a week following a stem to stern incision. They planned a thorough examination of the peritoneum, excision of any visible disease, and this time the bonus treatment of a cis-platinum wash and rinse.
Of course I would have preferred avoiding the entire thing, but I’m at the sweet spot between when the disease has become visible, but before it has spread too far. That’s what the chemo wash handles.
Lucky me, with scheduled surgery at a time when hospitals were staring down pandemic of historic proportion. Plus, having it through the height of the holiday season when I couldn’t enjoy the direct support of family at my bedside.
My husband dropped me off by the ER the evening before so I could get a final COVID test. It was negative, so I was granted access to the interior chambers of the hospital where medical wonders would occur. While I sat in the empty hallway feeling a bit like a mouse in the baseboard, waiting for my test, I wondered how much disease was floating in the cubic air I breathed.
My mind drifted to this passage from the novel I’m working about New York at the turn of the last century, written months before anyone foresaw the impending pandemic: “Tiny droplets, containing the tuberculosis infection had reached a critical level in the unventilated tenements. The ubiquitous, microscopic droplets of disease entered unwitting bodies as they talked, teased, kissed, ate and cuddled their families – coughing all the while. Passing through the mouth into the lungs, the bacteria burrowed deep into the sweet, nutrient rich lining, feasting with unabated delight. Little did we know it was the beginning of a horrific tuberculosis epidemic – one that would forever change our lives.”
My red, rolling carry on contained numerous pajama bottoms, a bathrobe, toiletry bag and pair of slippers – pretty much all the clothing I needed for a week in the hospital. My second bag (no extra charge) contained electronics, an assortment of “I’s” – I-pad, I-phone etc.
While so many of my friends have struggled with the isolation of the pandemic, my body has cared little about its psychological influence. I spend every minute of the day battling a disease with no cure and have found a way to barely think about it. Diagnosed 12 years ago and given a 25% 10 year survival, I’m in no man’s land. Surprisingly, aside for my treatment fatigue (or is it age?) and famous napping, I feel great. I brag I’ve never had a cancer symptom. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had plenty of symptoms – from the treatments themselves. More about that another time, perhaps.
Finally settled in my inpatient room, I Face-Timed my husband and blew him a kiss. After bidding farewell, I lay back thinking about two things. First, how I was going to hang onto all my personal things as I transitioned unconsciously from room to room over the next few days, and second, if I’d forgotten anything. Curious I chose to ruminate about things over which I had no control. I should have known better.
My assigned nurse was lovely as she started IV lines, gave instructions about the pre-surgical prep, shared life stories – what a pro. I knew I couldn’t ask her to kiss me goodnight, but rest assured, I wanted to. The next morning came too quickly. I woke to the words, “The OR is ready for you.” Was I ready for them?
I called my husband again. He sounded relaxed and sleepy, how dare him. I was jealous as he reasurred me, “see you on the other side”.
Which other side?
Seconds flashed by and I was inside the OR, a room jammed with high tech machines, screens and gleaming instruments. Everyone marveled at the efficiency – patient ready for an on-time start. Lucky them.
My handsome surgeon, a year younger than my eldest, flashed his twinkling blue eyes and asked if I had any further questions. I had no medical ones remaining, but my mind was full of existential ones, was he really old enough to use a knife at the table, where’d the time go, did he get enough sleep, do any drinking the evening before, have his breakfast, use the men’s room and was he happy in his marriage – anything that might distract him while he held knives and cauterizers in my belly.
Minutes, hours, days later I awoke. Trying to shake off the filmy, heavy feeling in my body, I realized I was in fact, on the other side. My sturdy body was reduced to a freeway system of tubes, often times tangled. It was impossible to move without setting off alarms.
The alarms were the acid test of my resilience, ability to keep my cool and be woken from blissful sleep for no apparent reason. I was weepy and missed my family, but was not in pain. And I stayed like that for days, crying at Christmas commercials, longing for ice chips, amazed at the warmth and empathy of most staff and missing my grandchildren. I was able to enjoy the Christmas morning videos and watched many over and over again. Texts and emails from friends and family always came at the nick of time, just when I needed a lift.
I made it, able to return home in record time – five days. I’ve been resting and inching my way back to life before with a big smile on my face. Like my friends, I eagerly await my vaccine and a gradual transition to whatever our next version of normal may be.
I love my life.
20 thoughts on “Cancer Surgery In Times of Covid-19”
Comments are closed.
Laurie says:
This is so moving and wonderful. So glad to have you on the other side and can’t wait to join you in person there. Love you my Braveheart.
Claire says:
You are an amazing woman! I can imagine your feelings as you went through this procedure alone. You are a strong, strong woman. God bless you.
Joyce says:
Jane,
How lucky for all of us that you are here to tell your story. You always have been and will continue to be my hero. You taught me the importance of family and you always inspired me to be a better healthcare professional.
I miss the days when I would come to your office for a pep talk and advice. There was always a warm smile and a dish of mints waiting. I loved admiring all the pictures of your beautiful grandchildren and most of all, I was glad we worked for the same institution.
God continue to give you strength.
Miss you
Joyce
Carla says:
Your strength never ceases to amaze me. Carry on my friend!
Peggy says:
Your writing is so powerful, and your courage in the face of fear inspiring. Heal well, Jane!
Lisa Pollak says:
Jane, dear heart, you are the epitome of resilience. I guess you’ve had to be. As they say about necessity…Now that you’re home, safe and loved, onwards and upwards in the task of living. Can’t wait to read the next draft of your book! Love you, my friend.
Liz DuBois says:
So happy to hear you are home safe and sound. God Bless.
Rhonda Levine says:
Jane, I am so glad that you are done with that surgery and home recuperating!!! Wishing you a healthy 2021 and plenty of time with your family and grandchildren!!!! Maybe even some time with friends!? Xo Rhonda
Sue G Bailey says:
Jane , I was so concerned for you . I didn’t know why you were in the hospital during the holidays and now I know. You are an inspiration .
Wendy says:
What a trooper you are!!!
Amazingly resilient. My word for 2020 or maybe to continue for 2021?
You write so well. So tight. Enjoy reading your words, thoughts immensely.
Peace and 💕
Michelle San Fillipo says:
Hello Jane my friend, I am so sorry to hear you had to face another surgery. At the same time I am always amazed at your strength and grateful for your presence in this world. Thank you for sharing your story with us. I hope with all my heart that 2021 brings us all back to normalcy and I certainly would look forward to having a lunch with you in late spring. All my love always, Michelle SanFillipo
Doreen Lesnik says:
I have great admiration and respect for your wonderful spirit in the face of illness. May 2021 be a great year spent with family and friends.
Grace Kaplan says:
Jane your courage and positivity is a strong message to everyone who is lucky enough to have access to your powerful words. Thanks for putting your words in writing for all of us to read.
Grace
marypat sullivan says:
You’ve always been a woman with the spirit and intellect of a warrior. I am so happy to have you in my life!
MaryPat
Vivian Alexander says:
Jane, I haven’t been in touch in a while and so I was sad to hear what you’ve been through. And now I’m so glad that this cancer treatment is behind you and you are home with family. You have lived such a brave life and kept us all informed of the ups and downs of this illness and recovery. You are a brave, smart and wonderful woman and a true friend. So delighted that this is behind you and you hopefully you will be well and healthy for a good long time. We all love and support you. Vivian
Angie says:
You truly are an amazing woman. I’m so grateful to read that you have recuperated so nicely! I didn’t want to intrude and call while you were recovering, but I will now! You are a warrior🥰
Vicki says:
Jane when did you learn to make lemonade? I’m so glad you are on the other side of this surgery. Happy 2021!
Looking forward to seeing you and your incredible beautiful family on Facebook! I get so much joy out of your family photos and all the grandchildren are so beautiful! (But the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree!)
Sending hugs your way! Love Vicki❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
Vicki says:
Jane when did you learn to make lemonade? I’m so glad you are on the other side of this surgery. Happy 2021!
Looking forward to seeing you and your incredible beautiful family on Facebook! I get so much joy out of your family photos and all the grandchildren are so beautiful! (But the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree!)
Sending hugs your way! Love Vicki❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
admin says:
Thank you all for your heartfelt and healing wishes. I’m feeling better every day! I’m glad you’re enjoying the blog. xo Jane
Lisa says:
You are an amazing strong, woman who is such an inspiration! So glad you are on the other side and hope you continue to feel better every day! 😘❤️