Late winter 2021, in February I think, my mom came over to the house for a visit and sat across from me and said “My bowels are acting strange. I think I might have cancer.”

I looked her straight in the eyes, while trying not to roll mine and said “Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t have cancer.”

We’re all healthy and take pretty good care so whatever irregularities she was experiencing I was sure were normal. Hell, everything I ask every doctor I see lately says the same thing, “that’s normal.” Hence the urge to roll my eyes because it was just one thing in a long line of my mom’s latest worries

Fast forward three weeks and four ER visits later and I was wrong. It was cancer. Not colon cancer, we would learn from the testing, but ovarian and prolific in her abdomen with a tumor the size of an orange squeezing off her lower intestine. This late stage diagnosis and rapid onset bowel obstruction landed her in emergency surgery, basically to save her life.

That was the start. The first of four surgeries and two rounds of chemotherapy. Two and a half years later she’s all put back together, with way less on her insides and her hair is growing back. The latest labs and scans show no sign of cancer. It’s incredible news considering she was stage 3C. She’s 76 years old. Just incredible. 

Last December we thought it was all over, but the scans showed cancer cells reappearing in her abdomen. There was no spread anywhere else detected or the diagnosis would have advanced to stage 4. That result is what earned her that second round of chemo but thankfully no more surgery. 

Still, it’s an elusive thing, the cancer, and it’s probably still in there somewhere. She’ll likely die from it if something else doesn’t get her. But we have a reprieve, for now, and can be grateful for the extra time for her. 

Today, I accompanied my dad on a visit to a valve specialist at a local hospital. The visit wasn’t with just one person but a whole team of people. I guess I’ve learned that when it takes a team, it must be serious.   

I had a little confusion when he asked me to go with him. He didn’t need a driver for whatever test they were doing and I’ve never had to be present at any previous visits or tests except the colonoscopy. Not one for his  cardiologist, endocrinologist, dermatologist, or his internist. So why this one? 

It didn’t take long for the answer to reveal itself. Basically he has Severe Aortic Stenosis. It’s the same aortic valve that has caused the heart murmur he has had his entire life, but new testing by his cardiologist shows that it has now degraded to the point where it needs attention. He is in need of valve replacement. 

The testing today and next week will help the valve team determine the best course of action. With this issue, 90% of patients are candidates for TAVR, Transcatheter Aortic Valve Replacement, where they fish a replacement valve through his arteries (through the groin or neck) to the affected valve. For the other 10%, open heart surgery is required. 

I’m glad I was there. We got a good bit of info and it’s a lot to process. I was able to be in the room for almost all of it, save the CT scan, and we talked with about five of the team members. Two surgeons, a resident, nurse, and case coordinator. Not to mention the five or six other nurses and techs who did the testing. All told, about 4 hours but it seems like a very efficient process they have in place. That’s comforting. 

While he was having the CT I emailed my siblings with all the info — my sister in Council Bluffs and brother in Colorado. I’m sure that I’ll be the designated daughter on all this just like I was for much of my mom’s ordeal.

Yup, that’s me, resident medical liaison and everyone’s favorite POA, and will executor. 

One big difference between my parents is that my mom has all the I’s dotted and T’s crossed where paperwork is concerned. And I truly am the head bitch in charge when shit goes south with her but my dads the opposite. He’s not a planner and he’s a procrastinator so there is no official paperwork. Just a few notes my sibs and I typed up the last time we were all together when my uncle died.

I’d like to say that’s ok. I’d like to say he won’t need any of that for a good long while. But no way in hell I’ll sit across from someone, look them in the eyes, and say that. Because you know you just don’t know. You just don’t.

Thanks for reading.

Peace and all,

~Miss SugarCookie