Another Opening; Another Show

I think I have to get a new hobby or I'll just chalk this up to maintenance and upkeep. 

The birthday/diverticulitis occurrence caused some problems, ones that can only be fixed surgically, so I will return to the operating theater on July 29th to have part of my colon removed and a fistula repaired.  I'm ready, feel deeply well, and look on this as a challenge.

The surgeon will use the same site/ the scar line of the radical hysterectomy that removed the ovarian cancer.  The surgery will take a few hours,  I'll be hospitalized for a few days, and the recovery will take about six weeks.  (A simpler, laparoscopic surgery is not an option because of the amount of scar tissue from the other surgery.)

Am I nervous?  A little, but I'm readying myself this week and next with acupuncture treatments  and plans for treatments after surgery to promote healing and conquer pain.  I'm also doing more stretching, cardio and weight training to get my body ready for the ordeal.  I've met with the anesthesiologist and the surgeon and both have been supportive and informative and I have confidence in both of them.  We're lucky that we live in a part of the country where medical care is exemplary.

The bad news is I'll be out of the blogosphere for a while (from the 29th until the 3rd or 4th) as I don't have a laptop.  The good news...I'll have put the diveritculosis/itis at bay and this surgery has to be good for another 10 pound loss!!!  :)  See, my glass is definitely always half full!

Illness Becomes Them

I think we are one of two groups of people.  We're either the ones who learn they have an illness, follow medical advice to get well, and go about living OR, we learn of an illness and we succumb to 'living sick.'  And although I can understand the latter happening, illness is just not within my nature to embrace.

Having already been hit with that cancer bus, I admit to being shocked and feeling physically and emotionally awful.  It took me time to learn again to feel well -- yes learn.  It was a cognizant decision on my part to accept wellness and although it took about six weeks before feeling physically almost normal, I strove to do so.  I refused to become fragile, sick, helpless.  It wouldn't have helped, anyway.  At one point the week after surgery, my husband was traveling and both girls were staying with me.  They asked if I wanted anything special to eat.  I did.  I craved cherry Jello.  They looked at each other blankly.  Neither 'knew' how to 'make' Jello.  What comfort that the half a million dollars spent in college educations for the two of them resulted in such genius!

But I digress... I credit the people around me -- mostly my mother and daughters with this 'healthy' attitude.  (While my husband was supportive and caring and loving, he was scared).  My mom (although frightened, too) continued to remind me that I heal quickly and as simple as this seems, it affected me.  My girls adamantly insisted that I had cancer (past tense), my doctor told me to get out of bed and walk a little each day because  for every day I spent immobile, it would take two more to regain my strength.  The attitude, the strength seeped through.

I'll Say it Again....

This post is of particular importance to me and so here it is, yet again.  Blessings, Kathy

Sunday, April 5, 2009

The Club and In Memory of Gilda

I read for lots of different reasons. Sometimes I want to learn, sometimes I want to be entertained, and sometimes I just want to escape! Having read some pretty commanding stuff lately, I chose to read The Friday Night Knitting Club (2007) by Kate Jacobs. I thought this would be a combination "chick lit"/learn something/appreciate women's issues kind of read. And for the most part it was. Until I got about half way through the book when I realized I didn't know that much about the main character -- enough to like her or want to know her. There seems a huge disconnect about the way she sees herself and the way others view her -- repeatedly; annoyingly. Granted, this is often part of the human condition: a universal theme. But there is more.

An author walks a treacherous road in character development. She can't divulge too much about her characters, but must take care to 'hint' to her readers along the way, otherwise occurrences fly out of left field -- literally and figuratively jolting her readers. Great literature contains surprises, but they still have to make sense -- some modicum of information given that allows the feasibility of the events to take place. For those of you considering reading this book STOP HERE. I'm about to give away the ending.

In The Friday Night Knitting Club the main character goes to her gynecologist after a long lapse in visits, where she learns she has an ovarian tumor that 'looks malignant.' Only after the diagnosis and radical hysterectomy does the character mention that she felt occasional bloating. In her defense, Jacobs does briefly mention that ovarian cancer is a 'silent killer' -- that by the time symptoms are noticed, it's often too late. This is accurate medicine, but it's not appropriate plot or character development. After her course of chemo, Georgia Walker, doubles over in pain and dies in the hospital a few days later.

There is a big reason why this upset me so. First, I've taught and read enough literature that I recognize good plot and character development when I read it. And probably more importantly, on May 29th of this year, I celebrate my sixth anniversary of wellness. It was on this day in 2003, that I was shocked to discover I had ovarian cancer. The tumor had been growing for quite some time and I had 'quiet symptoms' but symptoms nevertheless. Scheduled for what we expected was the removal of four small cysts on my left ovary (about an hour's procedure via a laparoscopy), I would be released from the hospital the next morning. (I had been pre-warned, however, that if the cysts were at all suspicious, the means by which they would be removed would change). After about seven hours of surgery, being cut from above the navel to the symphisis pubis, and a radical bi-lateral hysterectomy and appendectomy, I awoke groggy and in pain to the truth.

When a psychologist came to see me the next morning and asked what I knew about ovarian cancer, all I could think about was Gilda Radner and her valiant struggle with ovarian cancer and so replied, "Everyone I've ever known who has had ovarian cancer is dead." She told me that ten years prior this was very true, but there are many more survivors now. She was right. More and more women survive this 'silent killer' every year. Knowing this Kate Jacobs does every one of us who have survived ovarian cancer a great dis-service.