Friday the 13th, 2020 (my story pt. 4)
It is not lost on me that I am posting this blog with this title on Friday the 13th of March 2026. Some things are just too cosmic and full circle to be happenstance!
We have finally arrived in my story. Destination: cancer diagnosis, but wait first, misdiagnosis of EPIC proportions. I guess technically this would be the second misdiagnosis, if we’re considering the first misdiagnosis the gastroenterologist trying to convince me for months that this was just a cyst…(we are).
If you haven’t read my previous blog posts of “my story” parts 1-3, I urge you to go back and do so. It will help with context of how we got to this moment and much of what I’m referencing throughout the duration of this post.
March 02, 2020 Denver, CO
Awaking from my second endoscopy, the doctor comes in with the classic “good news, bad news” line. As always, bad news first, “The bad news is this is a tumor. Not a cyst.” he says. “Good news is it’s noncancerous and the procedure is pretty straightforward. We can lift the pancreas and sculpt it out.” he followed up cheerfully. Although this all felt overwhelming to a person fresh off being drugged for a procedure and after months of being shamed into believing I was creating more of a problem, it seemed like best case scenario all things considered. My mom and I cried together during the car ride home. It had been a long five months of diagnostic procedures and advocating for myself (little did I know this was just the warm up). Plus, as a mother myself now, I can say confidently that no mother EVER wants to hear their child has a tumor and they need surgery to have it removed—benign or otherwise. But ultimately we pulled ourselves together and chose to be grateful for the soon to be false hope.
March 16, 2020 Denver, CO
I can still feel myself in this moment. My parents and I are sitting in a surgeon’s office downtown. People are frantically running through the halls. Some are crying. Many are wearing masks. There is mass confusion and fear in the air—what is happening? It felt like a choreographed flash mob response to the devastating blow I was being given in my quiet little hospital room. But what was really happening is three days prior on Friday, the 13th of March 2020, Covid-19 was declared a national emergency and all elective and non-life threatening surgeries were cancelled. All, but mine. “I don’t know why they told you that.” this surgeon continued, “this is cancerous and it needs to be removed immediately. We need to perform a pancreatectomy and splenectomy.” My dad asked why my spleen had to go as well. The surgeon explained that the pancreas is the blood supply to the spleen and without it, the spleen would eventually die and then I’d have other problems with a dead organ in my body. They then proceeded to read off the very long and daunting list of complications that could ensue when losing two major organs, in addition to a surgery of this magnitude. The highlights that are embedded in my mind are: diabetes, daily insulin shots, living with a bag hanging off the side of me redirecting my digestive enzymes that I would be missing now with losing the majority of my pancreas, major hit and potential loss of my immune system, and also death. I would have to be in the ICU for 9-12 days and then in the hospital for longer after that. But because of Covid-19, I would not be allowed family and visitors. Only one person could see me briefly after surgery. I would be all alone in an entire hospital with only people dying from a new and apparently insanely contagious, deadly pandemic. They left the room to give me and my family time to discuss. I put my whole head inside my hoodie and wept hard. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t process. How did we go from benign and more of a consolidated surgery to now cancerous, I’m losing two organs, and I have to do it alone in the most unprecedented time in recent history? My brain couldn’t bridge the two. Are doctors often just blatantly wrong or quick to give false hope and misinformation? How is this my reality? We scheduled the surgery and left.
From here, I did go on to get a second opinion, schedule another surgery and ultimately cancel. There are honestly so many more, pertinent details that matter to this situation and my story. BUT this is a blog, not an autobiography…..for now ;)
Present Day
Since this diagnosis, my “little guy” (the nickname I’ve given my tumor, for those of you that are new here) and I have traveled the world, pushed my body to new physical extremes, HAD A BABY, and experienced so much able-bodied life together. The way I talk about him makes him sound like a family member, but my approach to genuinely and whole-heartedly loving my tumor and my cancer, versus anger, resistance, and hate has contributed to my healing and survival. But that’s a whole tale for another time.
*Insert shameless plug here* for more on how I chose to survive this moment and consequently, survive and live WITH cancer, please consider purchasing my e-book Living In Awe: A Field Guide To Wonder now available in The Awe Shop! It is not a self-help book and not a full complete narrative of the treatments I’ve done etc. (more to come on that), but an uplifting field guide that meets you where you’re at and offers guidance out of the weeds, using my cancer journey as an example and sharable compass.
IN CONCLUSION, now that we’ve finally reached how we got to diagnosis, I can start sharing all the amazing and miraculous work and treatment I’ve done along the way. It hasn’t always been positive and easy, by any means. Full transparency, there have been many MANY lows and I don’t always maintain the sunny disposition that I share here. However, there are invaluable lessons and growth that come out of the lows and it would feel criminal to keep them to myself.
Be well, trust yourself, and never stop being your own biggest advocate. If you need help with that, I’m here.