It Started with An Earthquake: A Cancer Journey

It Started with An Earthquake: A Cancer Journey

I t    S t a r t e d   w i t h    A n   E a r t h q u a k e

 

Thursday, January 3, 2013, 5 am.

I am awakened out of a deep sleep to the sound of Lou’s voice, rather urgent.  The room wasn’t shaking. It couldn’t be an earthquake.  “Babe, you need to wake up.  We’ve got a problem.  I think you need to go to the hospital with me.  I am coughing up blood. “

I jumped out of bed in a hurry and thought:  “Ok, let’s go see what’s going on.  Probably nothing, but you have to check.  What did I have going on today?  It was too early to call in to work.  Wonder how long they will keep us?”

So began the terrible journey that would forever change our world.

… In the ER on a gurney for two days.  Blood Tests, IV’s for an infection, CAT Scans of the chest, the head, the throat, the abdomen, then more specialized tests of the lungs.  They were able to get in touch with the lung specialist who was never in this area this time of the week.  He immediately came to the hospital.  He ordered a bronchoscopy of the upper right lobe of the lung and hung around after to evaluate and report for Lou and I and our daughter, April.

What he said wasn’t good.  They couldn’t even see into the upper right lobe.  What had been diagnosed as pneumonia in December was a huge mass. It completely filled the lobe and was growing out into the bronchial tubes.  He was surprised there hadn’t been a lot more evacuated blood.

By the middle of the first day, Lou asked the radiologist and the lung specialist if it was cancer and both said “Yes”.    So, there we had it.

Photo Courtesy of iStock/Madjuszka

 

Logic set in quickly.  Lou could live just fine without one lung or partial lung.  I used to work for Thoracic and Vascular Surgeons.  I had met lots of patients who did great on one lung.

The first step into grief began in that Kaiser Hospital on Sand Canyon.  For me, it was shock.  It was impossible to wrap my head around this.  I was a problem solver and one who comforts and consoles.  I pray for others all the time with great confidence that God will hear and take care of their every need.  This was not a problem with an obvious solution and there were no shots for me to call.

I needed comforting right now as much as I needed to comfort.  And I clearly didn’t understand a thing that was happening.  I am too intelligent for empty platitudes and so was Lou.  I would not do that.  We had to know more.

We were admitted to the hospital, but couldn’t be moved because there were no beds available.  We were 14 down on the list and that proved to be a wait that never turned into a bed.  The best they could do was locate a spare gurney for me about 4 a.m. so I could lay my exhausted body horizontal.  I was close enough that we could hold hands, in a room too bright and noisy to sleep, with all the monitors beeping and IV’s of strong medicines needing changing every hour or so.  I cried most of that night, silently so as not to disturb Lou.  I found out later he heard it all and was crying too, but for me, not for himself.

Photo Courtesy of iStock/Nico_Campo

 

I knew, without a doubt, we would not be alone in this.  Looking back, God never left us for a moment.  Friends and family, even strangers came in tight around the edges.  But right there, in that ER, it was literally a dark night of the soul and it wasn’t shaped like anything that remotely fit with our plans for the future.

So began my journey of grief.  It was an earthquake.  …about a 9.5 to be exact. It literally shook my world and the rubble that remained around me was just starting to be sifted through…

Grief and loss are part of the human dilemma and I will continue to tell my story in posts to come, but now I want to hear from you:

For those of you who have faced shocks and life-changing moments like these, how did you handle the news?

Do you recall that first moment when you got your bad news? What was your first reaction?

Molly Keating
Molly Keating
Hello! I'm Molly and I run & manage the Blog here at O'Connor. I grew up in a mortuary with a mortician for a father who's deep respect for the profession inspired me to give working at a mortuary a try. Work at O'Connor has brought together two of my deep passions, writing & grief awareness. In 2016 I earned Certification in the field of Thanatology, the study of Death, Dying and Bereavement. I am honored to be able to speak on these taboo topics with knowledge, compassion, and a unique perspective. I want to sincerely thank you for following & reading the blog, I hope that this is a healing place for you.

58 Comments

  1. Tom says:

    I’ve found the best way for me to move forward is to remember my mom, who died 2009, and live for my daughter.

    • Anne says:

      Tom,
      Thank you for reading and for sharing. We can usually figure out what an important loved one would tell us in certain situations and it helps shape the rest of our lives, doesn’t it? And you are right. We need to be our best selves so we can continue by shaping the lives left in our care.

  2. Jon says:

    Anne,

    Thanks for sharing I can only imagine what it was like going through Lou’s cancer journey. Your earthquake analogy is spot on I can see the jolt that news would bring to you.It is amazing what comfort and help we get from having a strong relation with God. Thank you for the advice and love you have given Melaney and I, we take it to heart and keep it in mind as we start our life journey together.

    • Anne says:

      Hi Jon
      Thanks for reading. I hope you never do experience what we did, but if you do, I have no doubt God will prepare you for whatever the challenges turn out to be.
      I was so touched to read that you and Melany took my advice to heart. I know we weren’t that out of the ordinary, but we learned how to spoil one another and highly regard each other somewhere along the way and the results were amazing.

  3. ctroop says:

    Sorry about the ‘ctroop’ – same old trouble with FaceBook again (how I hate it) all the variations of my own name were already taken – how many me’s can there be ? ? ?

  4. ctroop says:

    Very well written. You are taking us with you through this – as from the beginning. We grieve with you and we grieve for missing Lou in our lives, but behind it all there is the knowledge and assurance that his suffering was the gateway God chose for him to come home. We love him (not loved) and miss his physical presence and I miss our all too infrequent talks about the Lord and His Word on the phone. I say this because there is no doubt in my mind that it’s true – we did not “lose” him – he just happened to be in line a little ahead of us that’s all.
    Chuck and Connie Troupe

    • Anne says:

      Thank you, Chuck. Nope, having him here meant a lot more ease in my day to day, comfort, laughs, hugs, company, not to mention a lot of great meals and an amazing hand to hold, but you are right. He is just a little ahead in the line. He will make a great addition to the welcoming committee.
      Your calls and Connie’s beautiful and thoughtful cards have been such a comfort. Wish you guys weren’t ‘way over there”.

  5. Erin Fodor says:

    Anne,

    Thank you for sharing. I can’t imagine the pain you endured in this time. I lost my father and uncle and it was very sudden. I remember the confusion of emotions at the time. Not understanding, and the entire questions of why? It floods your mind. I too would lie awake at night and cry. Your love and support of Lou is beautiful. I admire you for your strength, heart, and perseverance.

    • Anne says:

      Erin
      Thank you for reading and sharing. I look forward to getting to know you better. When our life and our plans change so suddenly, it is so hard to wrap our heads around it. I know it has been several years now for you, but here you are with us and partly because of that. What an amazing life we have and it unfolds as it should if we let it. Hugs,

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