Wednesday, October 10, 2018

Home Home Home

I made it home Saturday afternoon and am now slowly rebuilding my strength surrounded by my beloved family.

The surgery went well and without complications. We won’t know for sure until we get the pathology report but the surgeon said the feel of the tumor led him to believe there is still live cancer in the section he removed, rather than all necrosis. So that’s a bummer, and may mean more targeted radiation to the area left behind. But we will cross that bridge when we come to it.

This was one of the scarier hills I have tackled over my 5+ years with metastatic cancer. There is an awful calculus that patients go through, deciding what we would be willing to give up for more time on earth. What deficits will we accept for more days? What makes life worth living? What risks will we accept for the hope of another year?

The amazing Jason stayed by my side at the hospital, sleeping (or attempting to sleep) in a non-reclining chair, which frankly doesn’t seem possible at all. But I dearly appreciated his company as I transitioned out of the weird post-surgery twilight into the early steps of recovery.

Now that I’m home, I’m totally focused on recovery. The main things are regaining my steadiness, balance, and coordination. There are subtle changes that I’m noticing, like how my handwriting looks different, though I am very pleased to see that I can still knit. Overall, I’m having to learn to move at turtle pace, rather than my preferred lighting speed. An interesting perspective shift which is probably a good life lesson. As always, I’m not sure why I have to find such hard ways to learn these lessons.

I am looking forward to tapering off these steroids and the messed up sleep and puffiness they bring.

Check out my amazing post-surgery hairdo! My Mum spent a solid hour soaking out the glue that had held the sensors in place, and which had dried into gooey, itchy chunks. She is staying with us for a bit and her help has been invaluable (far beyond just getting glue out of my hair).

The support from folks has been absolutely vital and humbling. The meals, the puzzle books, the well-wishes and prayers. All of these have allowed me to focus on healing, knowing I have a community pitching in to help! If you still want to sign up, I’ve added a few more meal requests to the Lotsa Helping Hands site. We are the “Tomalia Support Team” and our zip code is 48104.


Robin said...

Wishing you a speedy recovery and good news from pathology. One day at a time. Thinking of you and keeping you in my thoughts and prayers.

Deb Factor said...

Your strength, courage and determination are amazing! You and your utterly amazing family are in my heart and mind. Be strong (you are) and get well (you will).

Patricia Z. said...

Sending love to you and all your family, Tori!

Katie S said...

Sending healing thoughts, love & hugs.

KP said...

Pleased to hear it went well. Praying for more good news and a smooth recovery.

Unknown said...

You are an amazingly strong and Corageous woman. Much love to you and your family. Your always in my prayers.

Anonymous said...

I know your strength will carry you through.. heal fast.
Wish you well.

dearmaizie said...

I tried posting yesterday, but I guess it didn't go through.

So glad you're home, Tori. Sounds like you're doing well, too, though that doesn't surprise me.

When I was dxed 3 yrs ago I searched the Web for support, I guess. I found your blog and was so inspired by your story. I've followed you ever since and continue to be amazed and inspired by your strength and grace.