Lymph Node Surgery

The ENT, Doctor Truong had told me he wanted to remove a couple of the very large Lymph nodes in my neck for further testing. It was Set of November 18 at Overlake. He would cut into my throat and remove two for more extensive testing, as they were trying to pin down the cancer information. Since my throat was feeling constricted and I had a hard time swallowing, they needed to go.  I had a great nurse team who went out of their way to make me feel comfortable. Doctor Troung came in and talked to me and then left. I said something about him being “eye candy.”  Blame it on the drugs as the nurses all agreed and it was quiet when he walked in and had no idea what was going on. He had his cheerful, warm smile that made us all at ease, and soon I was wheeled off for surgery.

 

He did a great job, concealing the scar in the neck fold and you are hard pressed to see it.  I woke up and was checked out to make sure I was ok, then got a visit from him and sent home. To do nothing but lay on the couch for at least ten days. No lifting more than 15 pounds. “Don’t do anything” was his last words…stay on couch and watch TV. Why? Well the cut was next to a main artery, and we didn’t want that to rupture. Also, it was next to some major nerves and we didn’t want them to get riled up either. Since the neck is a small portal for a lot of nerves, arteries, etc, it’s best to let it heal with no movement.

 

I seriously thought I would be on the couch for a couple of days, then be able to wander at will through the house and maybe do a few easy house chores. I was so wrong. Major pain, even though with the pain pills, nailed me to the couch. I felt so weak and sick, like a new born and pain every time I moved my neck. I found out you move your neck about every five seconds, so daggers would shoot through me. So, needless to say, I was off work for a couple of weeks and was able to telework for some days, which helped. The bright side was the obstruction in my throat was gone, and I was able to eat food normally. I didn’t have much of an appetite as the cancer was growing rapidly in my body. The couch was my best friend.

The tests results came back and then they sent them out for more detailed testing.  On some days time was still or would rush by like a fast flowing stream. Other days were a blur. I tried to eat but to no avail and continued to lose weight.

 

The results came back, and it was T-cell Lymphoma.  As I sat in Doctor Truong’s office, tears rolled down my face and he hugged me. I walked out, numb. He gave me an Oncologist name and said he would keep in touch. He did and called and is checking my charts for my progress and lets me know with a call, here and there, to come back for a recheck and he cares. That is good to have a Doctor who cares, even after you leave his care. That says a lot about him and his ethics and compassion.

 

 

Thanksgiving came about and the table was heaped with turkey and tons of other savory items. I filled my plate, then poked at the food, eating maybe a cupful. As Getty, Nelson, Jim and Aunt Kimiko cleaned up in the kitchen, I feel asleep on the couch, I awoke to go out to help feed the sheep with my mom and aunt, a tradition I will keep up. As soon as they all left, I passed out on the couch.

 

I called the Oncologist to set up a consultation. My hands were shaking and my voice was cracking. My journey was well on its way and it was a journey that I never want to go on.

 

History

Let me back up and clarify some history. This past summer, I had been plagued with sleeping issues, snoring, waking up gasping for air and fatigued. I started to go to the ENT in September and since then it has been a whirlwind of appointments and life changes.  In October, I got the ear tubes and setup an appointment for my lymph node removal in November. There are a lot of tests to run and analyze before they can determine what type of cancer and what treatment.  I knew that I had cancer but not what type, how bad and what type of treatment. People were asking and I didn’t know.

 

My husband was my rock and supported me by taking me to some appointments and mainly taking over the daily chores.  My energy level dropped and I slept 12 plus hours a day. Going to work was hard but I teleworked twice a week, so that was bearable. They were very supportive of me and let me adjust my hours.  My normally introverted brother, Nelson, came out numerous times to help me with his partner, Jim. My mom and Aunt made trips to make me meals to have me eat but I still lost my appetite and was tired. I quit training my dogs and asked my good friends and students to take the younger dogs, and keep them and run them in trials. So Ben went with Diane Mitchell and Nell, Billie and Reba went with Tim. Tim did end up buying Nell (TSN Peep) and now we co-own her, but she adores him and is his heart dog. Mitzi took Bess to puppy raise her and Nikki is the only barn dog that I have left. She was my house dog but kept jumping on me when I was so sick, so I had to move her back to the barn. I reduced the chicken flock by 1/3.  I had tried so hard to build some rare breeds of chickens. I also reduced my sheep by 1/3 as well and sold one of my beloved Arabs. At this point I had no idea if I would live, so I wanted to get down to the lowest numbers. Scott Glen took Sally and Dixson for winter training. And then we traded Dixson for his sister, Fleece, as she suited me better and he liked the stubbornness of Dixson.

My father’s side of the family has cancer. I think it is the leukemia. I don’t remember as that was years ago, when they had the hushed whisperings. Then in 1990 or so, my father had leukemia. He was in Costa Rica and was getting treated down there. He got a     blood transfusion and would be good for a while. Then in Aug 6, 1992, he went in to have his spleen removed and he died. Not from the cancer but from a nicked vein or artery, and he bled out. They waited for him to stabilize so they could go in and stop it but he kept bleeding and died. So this was translated to me from Spanish. We buried my father on a hill, followed by Military folks, playing the sad tones of death on their bugles.  He had remarried and had a young son, about six years old, named Milton Junior. He left everything to him and his wife, and I walked away with closure.  In the last years of my childhood, he had changed and was an abusive father to me and my brother, forever scarring us for life. I flew down to his place a few year before to confront him and we made peace and buried the past. My brother never forgave him, even though he wrote a letter to apologize.  The chasm was too deep, the wound permanent and the past left as was, buried.

My Korean sister, Jean Bowman died of cancer as well. She wasn’t of blood but our families grew up together when we moved to Port Angeles when I was 12 years old. My mother and Judy Bowman were best friends and adopted each others children as their own. Jean was younger than me by a few years, and we got into all sorts of trouble together. We rode my horse and I taught her to get back on and ride. If you fell off otherwise you would be afraid. As she lay dying, she told me of this, how she wanted to quit but those words haunted her and that I would make her get back on the horse, so she kept on fighting. Her lungs began to fill up and she needed to try to expand them but the exercise hurt. I gave her my sheepdog whistles and taught her some tunes. She hit them well and loud enough so the Doctor came into the room and was amazed she was using her lungs. He said it was the best thing so she had them play them for me, each time I would visit. I would regal her of my runs on the field and how much fun we had and she would lay her head on her pillow and sign and laugh at some of our bobbles.  Soon the brain cancer took her life and soul, and a piece of me died. So unfair, this cancer. So brutal and no mercy.

My mother had remarried to a wonderful Japanese man, named “Hiro.” My brother and I were in our thirties, and when we went to celebrate at the Japanese restaurant he introduced us to the waiter as his children. The waiter lifted his eyebrow, two half Japanese and American children, not young and him, a full Japanese. He simply stated, “It’s the Japanese way. When I married their mother, they became my children.” The waiter nodded and it was good, He loved my mother and she loved him. She was happy and it was good to see her have new lease on life.

 

But cancer was waiting and struck my beloved stepfather. He lost his appetite.  He had stomach cancer and by the time they had diagnosed it, it was stage four and terminal. He fought a long battle but died in hospice. A piece of my mother died as well. It was hard on her, and my brother moved in to help her. I did the estate stuff, but she was missing the spark of life. I gave her a kitty to raise for me, telling her I was too busy at work to raise her. She was a demon spawn, always getting underfoot and a real spitefire. I asked my mom to keep her for a few months and after a while she called me and told me the ploy worked and Mika was staying. The kitty gave her a reason to get up, tend to and keep her happy. She acquired another kitty from me as well. In late October, I had gotten a free feral kitten that lived in the barn. My mom tripped over her and took her home stating, she would return her in the spring when the weather was nicer and the tiny, frail kitten was grown. I smiled as I knew the kitten would never return but asked her weekly how my kitty was doing. In spring, she stated that Tama was not a barn cat and was going to stay. I smiled.

Cancer retreated for a few years. Then it struck again. My best friend, and in the Japanese tradition our American sister, Kathy Davis, was hit with colon cancer. She leads a very clean life, and it was a huge surprise that she got it.  I cried as I heard the words from her. As time progressed, she had surgery but found out it had advanced more. Right now, she is still fighting cancer and is living life to the fullest. We plan to beat the cancer and pop open a bottle of wine and have sip to celebrate.

I was reading on who gets cancer. Sure genetics has a part but recent studies shows it is a roll of the dice. Who knows but at least in this time, we have a good chance.  Cancer has taken enough from my family and friends and it won’t win this battle. 

So this blog is my journey, with Cancer as my Companion and when this journey ends with cancer in full retreat, cancer will no longer be my Companion.

The News of Cancer

I remember growing up and hearing about the family member who had cancer. Often the conversation was in hushed voices, whispering as if it was bad. Then a shaking of the collective heads and “poor person, what will happen to the family?”.. Then a slow death with the person losing weight and looking like a death camp survivor….hollow eyes, skinny and lifeless soul.  Some folks did survive but most did not and it seemed like the kiss of death.  There was no rhyme or reason on who got it but whomever it would strike, it was unfair.  Just not fair. "Why God", was often my question in prayers but I never got an answer.

As the years have gone by, the fight to beat cancer has gotten better, quicker to catch sometimes, better drugs, much better but not 100% survival and chances were a lot better than 40 plus years ago when I first heard the nasty word. Our Uncle came out to visit us, then a few months later was dead from  cancer…he was so vibrant and one of our beloved Uncles, then dead…it was so quick and we never had a chance to say good bye. Then another Uncle, then my dad. So unfair and cruel to see such strong men, crippled, wasted then dead from the evil tentacles of cancer. More family members fell as well as friends. Again, no rhyme or reason but then more people did survive. I read their stories and of their courage.  I thought I never would be one of them. Never in a million years. Never.

I am one of them now.

I lead a good life. I don’t drink, do drugs or have any vices. Only the animals. I work hard and come home to the farm, where I let the life giving energy ground me so I feel connected and not stressed. I feed the sheep and watch the lambs run in play, bringing a smile to my face of the carefree life they live. Of the chickens who eat from my hands and give me fresh eggs to eat.  The Livestock Guardian dogs who are gentle with me and their charges, and the sheep flock but drive away the predators. The Border Collies who bring joy to my life in herding plus being my companions. Having a farm grounds you, bring you back to nature, releases the stress from work and makes you realize what really is important. It’s not money and social standing but family, friends and a quality of life that make you sleep well at night and feel good about life.  I used to be one of those high wired Yuppies who had a nice suit, sport car, the jars in my pantry all lined up, my clothes in the closet all sorted to style, color and function. Moving to the farm has made me realize that was not the way to happiness. It’s what is inside you….what makes you as a person.  Do you give back as much as you get. Be kind and nice. Be happy and smile to everyone, even those who are not smiling as they need it the most. Say hello to people and be kind. Some people will take advantage of that but cut them out of your life, as they are like a cancer on your shoulder. You don’t need them. Keep the people who care as they are your true friends.

But, back to how I found out I had cancer. I had no idea that I had it. Last thing on my mind, in fact. I had the summer sniffles from allergies, so I thought. The different allergy meds didn’t work so I kept switching them trying to find out which one work. Then I began to lose hearing in my ears and found out they were filled with fluid. Darn, I thought it was due to the allergies. Then I got into a head-on car accident and the ears and nose got worse.  So I went to an ENT, Dr. Anh Truong (Otolaryngologist) of Bellevue ENT  to see about having ear tubes put in and see what was wrong with my hearing in September. He did confirm much of my hearing was gone and gave me prednisone and antibiotics to see if it would clear up and come back in a month. More prednisone and nothing helped. So he went to out the tubes in but before he did that, he had to look at my throat. He numbed it and put a long tube in and pulled it out quickly. I had issues with eating as my throat felt like it was partially blocked. Well, it was blocked with cancer. He called and got me to get a CT scan in an hour, then a biopsy of the lymph nodes in my neck. He had found that most of the lymph nodes around my neck were very swollen and some were blocking the throat. So no tubes for me and off to a CT scan and then lymph nodes biopsy. He talked about what type it maybe and stressed to get test done now. I sat in the parking lot and cried and cried. It could have been the nasal cancer which would be really bad and very low survival rate. I kept on crying, then had the CT scan.  For the lymph node biopsy, I had to hold still while they drew two large vials of fluid out of the nodes. That hurt as I was held down, then they stuck a needle in my neck and I could not move While they drew the fluid out. Not once but twice I went home, with my tail between my legs like a defeated dog and crawled in bed and cried. Then cried some more.

All I wanted was tubes in my ears to drain the fluid out. That was it.  Certainly not this cancer thing! I felt like I got sucker punched in the stomach. I texted the family and friends and my work bosses. I then cried some more. It’s bad enough to find out you have cancer, then may have one of the worst ones you can have. Please God, don’t let me have that one.

I went to sleep but had nightmares.  I read all about cancers.  It was horrifying. There were signs but none really added up for a person to know it was cancer. The ears filling up with fluid, the continuous stuffy nose, the fatigue, easy bruising, the weight loss from 135 to 120 lbs. in two months, other little items.  I thought I was pushing myself too hard as I tend to do that. But I am thankful that Dr Truong, my ENT was so diligent and saved my life by stopping everything else and getting me set on the path.  He even called me at night to check up on me.

The biopsy came back with either T or B Cell lymphoma but not the bad nasal cancer that would have been deadly. He scheduled a surgery to remove the two nodes that were blocking my neck on Nov 18th.  So I went and read on the T and B cell lymphoma and got ready. I was still in shock. He went and put in the ear tubes so I could hear better. The volume level on the TV went down from 92 to 13 setting.

I want to give a huge shout out to my ENT Doctor. I went in and he was kind and made me feel warm and comfortable and not rushed, We are of Asian descent, so we chatted about our culture and it turns out he grew up on a farm in Vietnam, until he was about 8 yrs. or so, then came to the States. We talked about farming and the agrarian life.  I really like his warm personality. He called me after hours to make sure that I knew he cared and was on top of it. He called me with results and went out of his way to make me feel like he cared, that I wasn't just a patient who was a number.  If you need a wonderful ENT in the Bellevue (eastside of Seattle). I highly recommend him He has an office next to the Issaquah Hospital and in the Overlake Center. He is the reason that I am not dead now. Bless his heart for caring so much about his patients. His bio.