We went into the lung surgeon waiting to hear that the surgery to keep the lungs from being continually surrounded by the pressure of extra fluid had failed. We expected to be admitted to the hospital for yet another draining. What we heard was that the surgery went fine: the pain and pressure D is now feeling is being caused by a new tumor. That is visible to the eye. So sorry, said lung surgeon, you belong to the oncologist now. I felt kicked to the curb. Even though my rational mind said , "This is a kind and compassionate man who has done all he can do", my fight-for-my-husband's-life mind said, "There HAS to be something you can do! We just spent two hours in your waiting room looking at 5 year old magazines. You owe us!"
My theory, on this journey, is that under every doctor's office is a magnetic field that totally strips you of any energy in the event bad news is delivered. My husband, daughter and I went home to take long naps. Upon waking and checking home phones and cell phones, we realized there must have been a veritable symphony of phone ringing that we slept through. I guess stress will do that to you.
Our next stop is the oncologist on Tuesday for our Regularly Scheduled Visit. He has already suggested hospice and I think we will take him up on it. There is one thing I want to say about this: My daughter told me she saw people's reactions when I used the "h" word at church on Sunday. Listen friends: Hospice does not have to mean end times and throwing in the towel. Hospice can mean better pain management. And that is what we are after.
That and some funny videos, an end to the soaring heat in Texas and some healthy food that tastes good. And magazines with brief articles that match my brief attention span these days.
And if those are my only requests in life? Life must be pretty good. We are at peace.