Dear Friends & Family

Yesterday was probably the worst "recovery" day I've had since this whole process began. It was not due to physical pain or discomfort, however. It was just an emotionally tough day. I've had people tell me how envious and jealous they are of all my downtime and the fact that I get to spend endless hours on the couch watching daytime tv, reading magazines, and surfing the net. But the only thing I can say to those people is that the novelty wears off after a few days, and pretty soon it becomes the most emotionally draining experience to have so much time alone with your thoughts. I spent most of yesterday alone. Pat went golfing (which was much-deserved after spending so much of his time caring for me), and while I was happy that he got to do something he wanted to do for once, it was also a very emotionally trying day for me. I broke out in tears sporadically while on the phone with my mom, and when our phone call was cut short, I called 2 of my girlfriends, only to end up crying even harder because neither one of them answered (I'm not trying to make you feel guilty at all, Jess & Christie, you would not have wanted to talk to me anyway, believe me!!!).

My mom reminded me of an important life lesson to help me through my tough day yesterday. And that lesson is that, no matter our circumstances in life, God has placed us there for a reason. There is something pure and significant that will come from this difficult time, and my goal right now is not to find that purpose, but to depend on our Savior to provide me with the strength, grace, and humility to overcome this obstacle.

This post is not meant to be a "poor me", "feel sorry for me" post. Rather, I'm hoping to turn my mood around today and remind myself of all we have to be thankful for. Which is why I wanted to take a minute to write a quick letter to our friends and family, who are constantly standing behind us and sending us messages of love and support our way. If you read this blog, this message is intended for your eyes.

Dear Friends and Family,
Patrick and I truly cannot put into words how grateful we are for the love and support that you all have shown over recent months. You have provided us with an invaluable tool to aid in the healing process. And this tool comes in the form of out-of-the-way trips to visit, care packages, phone calls, emails, and cards. For your thoughts and prayers, we cannot thank you enough. This difficult process is made so much easier by knowing we have all of you backing us, and there is no doubt in my mind that my recovery has been easier because of all of you. Thank you all!
All our love,
Pat & Randi

Don't read this post if you have a weak stomach!!!

For those of you who thought I was on the up & up, you were WRONG! But it's ok, because I was wrong, too. I thought this last hospital stay would be the end of the great "Lump Debacle of 2009". But sadly, it was not.

I went to the doctor yesterday for another post-op appt. Upon seeing how pale and gaunt I looked (no doubt due to the fact that I've been spewing each day's worth of nutrients and have lost 6 lbs in less than a week), the doctor decided to do what he should have done all along and order a blood transfusion. Those 2 words are very intimidating. My brain congers up the image of a nurse with a stack of syringes full of blood, shooting them into my arm, one by one. However, the actual process of a blood transfusion is not nearly so scary. It's actually just like having an IV drip, except instead of fluids dripping into your tube, it's blood. The only remotely annoying part of this process was how long it took (4 hours!!!). After being "hooked up" for only 1/2 hr, my face was already getting color back. And halfway through the process, I became genuinely famished for the first time in a few days. It felt good to have my true hunger back. And by true hunger, I mean my body's actual need to have nutrients without the impending threat of that nauseous, "she's gonna blow!" feeling to follow.

So after some TLC from my hubbs in the form of a hearty dinner of mac and cheese and veggies, along with a good night's sleep, I feel alive again! I actually feel like I'm going to live now! Believe it or not, I was unsure for a few days there.

On another note, the doctor made light of my situation during my appointment yesterday by suggesting that I tell all my friends about his new weight loss program. "Dr. Khatri's Weight Loss Plan" involves losing about 1/4 of your body's blood, taking mass amounts of iron and painkillers, and puking your guts out for a week. Boom, 6 lbs gone! Just like that. And no, you will not have to change your diet, because you will lose your appetite all together and nothing will taste good. Hahaha, no offense, Doctor, but I wouldn't wish this misery on anyone!

So with that, Pat & I wish you all a wonderful weekend! Get out there and enjoy the late spring/early summer weather! And while you're doing so, think of me, cooped up on the couch for what seems like the rest of my natural born life. Enjoy!

Home Sweet Home

I am pleased to announce that, upon breaking my personal record for the most nights spent in the hospital (something I am NOT very proud of), I was finally discharged today!

I have mixed feelings about being home. Don't get me wrong, the last thing I want is to "donate" more to the money making venture that the healthcare industry has become. But the nightmare of Friday evening/night replays over and over in my head, and I am not sure that I have the emotional (or physical) strength to go through that again. I trust my doctor's judgement, but I also have my reservations, being that the physician's assistant told me not to worry when the "Great Blood Flood" first began on Friday night.

So I guess it's time to update on the events that transpired to get my doctor to sign my discharge orders. I had a contrast scan last night (man that iodine shot is one crazy sensation!), and the results looked normal, meaning there were no hematomas or clots. They had again restricted my food and water intake after breakfast yesterday, so I was allowed to eat again at about 9:00 last night, as surgery was ruled out indefinitely. Praise the Lord!!!

This morning my doctor did his rounds with his "posse" (UC Davis is a teaching hospital, so there are about 7-8 doctors, including residents, that travel with Dr. Khatri). He made the decision that he would start to transition me off of IV pain medication, and send me off with a prescription for Folic Acid and Iron to help replace some of the lost blood. Transfusion was officially ruled out because my numbers increased slightly and stabilized in my blood draws taken last night. I have struggled for most of the day with pain management. I find that the pain is significantly worse now than it was during the first go-around.

So here I sit with about 5 different medications, again laid-up on the couch. I detest living on the 3rd floor right now, being that I have to stop and pause after each flight. My doctor has recommended that I get up and walk around a little bit, but at the risk of passing out and falling down the stairs, the only walking I'll be doing is laps in my apartment. Ugh. I don't ever recall feeling this exhausted.

I am so grateful that we reacted the way we did, and went to the ER to get the care I needed. But it also feels like a huge setback. After having done everything right, it's so frustrating to be in this position again. Who would think that a small snag would cause such a major problem?

We're really hoping that this will be the last blog update on "the lump" for awhile. But as we have learned, life can be very unpredictable.

Hope you all had a better weekend than we did. :)

Murphy's Law=My New Life's Mantra

Hello all.

I'm writing this post from a hospital bed, because, as some of you know, I was admitted to the hospital again on Friday night. I was feeling really good on Friday (maybe a little too good actually), and as I was up and around, I snagged my drain tube on our doorknob. There was no pain associated with the snag, but the clear fluid that had been draining turned quickly to bright red. At about 9:00, blood started gushing out of my drain site (where the drain is stitched into my body). We rushed to the ER and I was admitted a couple of hours later.

Friday night was hands-down the worst night of my life. They had put a pressure dressing on my drain sight, and I bled through it in a matter of hours. I did not sleep more than about 45 minutes total, because of the constant poking and prodding, blood draws, and having to have my drain emptied constantly. I was bleeding 100cc of fluid ever 1 1/2-2 hours. At one point the nurses started talking about blood transfusions, and I had one specific blood draw to get my blood typed and was told to be prepared for the possibility of having to have a transfusion. Very scary. Luckily, my doctor was on-call yesterday, and he came in first thing yesterday morning. He suggested that we wait to see if the bleeding slows on its own, as he would prefer not to do surgery. (FYI, surgery would involve opening the site up to find the bleed and put a suture in the bleeding vein.) But that meant no food or drink all day yesterday. At about 7:00 last night, my hemoglobin were stable enough that they scrapped the surgery idea (at least temporarily) and allowed me to eat dinner. I have never tasted such a delicious meal in my life!

Last night went a lot more smoothly. I was still woken up every few hours, getting blood drawn and my vitals checked. But the bleeding has slowed significantly. Unfortunately, my hemoglobin levels dropped slightly overnight and those levels are holding right around 8 (12 is normal). So the next step is to do a CAT scan to make sure there are no hidden bleeds or clots. There's also a strong possibility that I will need a couple units of blood, as I'm feeling pretty weak and exhausted.

My brother came up from southern CA to be with us yesterday. I feel as if my poor hubbs has to bear the burden of dealing with all of this by himself, so having Cody here is helping immensely.

Thank you all for your continued support. I'll update again when I have more info.

I'm a Big, Fat Liar

I broke my promise about posting yesterday afternoon, and for that I feel terrible. I will tell you all what I've been telling Pat since I got home from the hospital. I simply cannot be held responsible for anything that may come out of my mouth while under the influence of narcotic painkillers. And I do have a valid excuse for dropping the ball yesterday, I really do. There was an epic battle raging in my stomach between caffeine and painkillers. For future reference: Coffee+Oxycodone=worst nausea EVER!!! I will be steering clear of the caffeine for the duration of my recovery time.

Anyway, on to the good stuff. Let me preface this by saying that I love love love my doctor. He's sensitive to my needs and was able to give my condition the urgent attention that was needed to move the process along. That being said, I had a terrible hospital experience.

My surgery went well, just not exactly according to plan. An orthopedic surgeon had to be called in once my surgeon opened me up and found a quarter sized bone spur connected to my scapula. So that had to be shaved off, and my whole shoulder blade had to be moved out of the way to remove the cyst. I came out of surgery with quite a few stitches and a drain attached to a tube that goes into the incision. For this reason, my doctor decided it would be in my best interest to be admitted, at least for the night. The only problem was that he wanted to put me on the Oncology Floor (with the rest of his patients), and there were no rooms available. So I spent in excess of 12 hours in multiple recovery rooms, waiting for a room to open up. I find it ironic that they would call such a place a "recovery" room, because between the beeping of machines, hustle and bustle of nurses, and the woman next to me complaining constantly, there was absolutely no recovery taking place during that time. The only way to "recover" in such a place is to be unconscious. And sadly, most of the people in that room were. So, I did what any drugged-up, frustrated person in my situation would do. I bawled my eyes out. Luckily, not long after that, I was admitted to my room.

The fun doesn't end there, however. I ended up in a room with a girl about my age, whose boyfriend was coming and going late into the night. Even when he did finally leave, she spent a good hour arguing on the phone with him. And they must not have gotten the memo about the restriction on cell phone use in patient rooms, because both of their phones were ringing constantly. I was already struggling with sleep because the morphine drip made me itch worse that I ever imagined possible (talk about an itch you can't scratch). But I made it through the night and begged my doctor to release me the next day. After taking me off the IV meds and stabilizing me with oral painkillers, I was finally able to go home.

With the help of my wonderful mother and amazing husband, the next few days went fairly smoothly. Pat has been sleeping on the couch with me every night since I got home from the hospital, waking me up every 4 hours to take my meds, and helping me to the bathroom. And my mother, God bless her heart, did all of my laundry, cooked a few meals, and vacuumed. I was NOT happy to see her leave on Monday.

But alas, the healing process has begun, and I find that I feel just a little bit better each day. Last night, for the first time, I was able to sleep for almost 5 hours straight! I had the first of 2 post-op appointments today. My surgeon felt it would be best to leave the drain in place, as my incision is still producing quite a bit of fluid. I will be going back next Thurs to get the drain removed, as well as my stitches. I have quite a bit of nausea that comes in waves and hits like a ton of bricks. But it usually subsides on its own with no vomiting involved (minus the incident halfway through this post where I had to run to the bathroom and release the contents of my stomach into the porcelain god). My doctor thinks this is just the result of prolonged use of Percocet, and he is keeping a close watch to make sure this doesn't turn into a regular thing.

I also got the final report from Pathology today. They had sent the entire mass of fluid, along with the piece of bone, to the lab. Their firm diagnosis is a bone cyst. Dr. Khatri used a fancy medical term for it, but I cannot remember what the word was. It is completely benign, and the only thing they're concerned about is the very small chance that it could come back. All in all, that's a diagnosis that we couldn't be more pleased with. It's been a tiring road to this point, but we finally made it! I was telling one of my girlfriends that I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders, literally and figuratively. ;)

And with that, here are a few pics taken over the last week. ((Please ignore the terrible condition of my skin. I tend to have nasty, stress-induced breakouts, and due to recent events, this one is a doozie.))

My beautiful flowers!

The bouquet on the left is from my grandparents and aunts & uncles (thank you all, they're GORGEOUS!), and the pink roses are from my daddy. :)

My mom & I. I cannot put into words how comforting it was to have her here.

This is how the cat and I have taken to sleeping. She's such a little cuddlebug when she wants to be. And she is enjoying every last minute of my days spent at home.

In closing, I want to thank you all for taking this crazy roller coaster ride with us. It is your love and support, along with the strength and grace of God, that have gotten us through this.

Pre-post to the "Big" Post

I'm working up to writing my big post with my surgery update. I promise. I've been under strict orders to wear my sling anytime I'm not in bed (how does one type with a sling on??), so typing has been nearly impossible. Couple that with the fact that Percocet does a number on my stomach, and my ability to think clearly, and you can understand why it has taken me so long to work up the energy to sit at the computer desk and write the long-awaited entry for my loyal readers. But please know that it is coming. Soon.

I'm Alive.

Just wanted everyone to know that I made it home last night after 2 days and 1 night in the hospital. I'll write more later, when I'm feeling more coherent and less fuzzy. We've been totally inundated with emails, phone calls, texts, and myspace messages. Thank you all for your love and support!!!! We are truly blessed to have such wonderful friends and family.

In (Not-So) Loving Memory of My Lump

Dear Lump,
I am afraid that this is my final farewell. Your days of being poked and prodded are over. We have dealt with some trying times together, both good and bad. But your fate has been decided, and you will be meeting your maker (in the form of an oncologist holding a scalpel) in a matter of hours. I hate to say it, dear lump, but I feel as if my life will be richer without you. No more will I have to worry about the embarrassment you bring me, and no more will I fear that others are gossiping about the young lady with the lop-sided hump back. May you rest in peace, you selfish jerk.

And We Have a (Likely) Diagnosis!!!!!!

The doctor's office just called to give me the lab results.

::Drumroll, please::

And the mystery lump is... a CYST!!!!!!!! (Are you freaking kidding me, the surgeon could not have figured this out?????) I almost fell off my chair!!! All of this worrying, multiple doctor's visits, hundreds of dollars, thousands of dollars spent on the part of the insurance company (hello $2200 lab bill, thank God for health insurance) for a freaking cyst?!?!? This story seems to have such an uneventful climax.

Thank you Lord, for this wonderful day, for giving us the strength and grace to get through this, and for our wonderful friends and family, because their prayers have no doubt helped us pull through.

Four more days, and hopefully we can put this all behind us.

A High School Girl?? Seriously?!?!?

I find it more than mildly amusing that I have been mistaken for a high-schooler not once or twice, but about five times since I started tutoring high school-aged kids. I thought maybe the badge I wear that says "Placer County Office of Education, Foster Youth Services Tutor" might be a dead giveaway. Or maybe the beautiful rings strategically placed on the 3rd finger of my left hand. I actually had one teacher jump down my throat just today, and threaten to send me to detention for not having a hall pass! Now I know I look young, but do I really look like a teenager?!?!?!?? This has gotten me thinking that I might need to upgrade my work wardrobe to something more "teacherly" or maybe start wearing my glasses more often (which I think make me look more intelligent, thus older as well). Probably, though, I should just get over it and enjoy the amusement that comes from flashing my badge at an unsuspecting teacher, just to prove her wrong.

This, ladies and gentlemen, has been Randi's Random Thought of the Day.

You'll never look at red Kool-Aid the same again!

Sorry I wasn't able to post sooner, I've been on the phone for what feels like all day, and then we had to go to the grocery store after dinner (which is my hubby's absolute favorite week night activity).

So the news is good. Really good actually. Turns out my oncologist thinks my general surgeon read the ultrasound wrong and there are no tumors at all!!! Just this giant, ugly, fluid-filled sack. But before I tell you that story, let me tell you this story. Let's do a play-by-play of what happened when my oncologist decided to do an impromptu biopsy of the "tissue" in my lump.

Pat: Looks at me and mouths "Should we tell him there's just fluid in there???
Me ::violently shaking head no:: (for fear of being one of "those" patients that tries to tell the doctor how to do his job)
Doctor does his whole spiel about what he's going to do with the freakishly long, clicky instrument that's meant to extract solid masses of tissue
Pat (going against my instructions, bad husband, tsk tsk): "Actually, we've had this biopsied and the fluid has been drained twice. The last time she got it drained was 3 weeks ago."
Doctor (half listening, half focusing on doing the biopsy and simultaneously getting squirted with the kool-aid colored fluid that comprises my bump): "Huh, look at that. There's no tissue in there, only fluid."

I only wish that there could have been some sort of gushing explosion ("This is why I now have a lazy eye") to add to the comedic element of this scene. But alas, I did not get my wish.

Now I realize that this makes my doctor sound like an idiot, but it wasn't entirely his fault. My surgeon coded my last procedure wrong (believe me, I have the EoB from my insurance company to prove it), which led my oncologist to believe that there might be tissue there to extract.

Anywho, he had told me earlier in our conversation that out of the 800-1000 new cases of Sarcoma per year in the U.S., he usually treats about 50-60 of those cases. And he is 98% sure that what I have is not cancerous. Just a balloon that continues to fill up with fluid.

So our next course of action is surgery (surprise surprise). It's going to be an exploratory-type surgery, being that my case is unusual and he is unsure about why this condition exists within my body. I believe he used the term "enigma" in reference to my case (::Randi curtsies::). My surgery is scheduled for next Friday, May 15th (aka my birthday, best day ever, the day the world was blessed with my presence, etcetra etcetra). The best birthday present I can imagine is a clean bill of health, so in my ways I am very grateful. As my doctor so wittingly stated, "I have a great present for you, a four inch scar and the memory of going under the knife on your birthday." Ah yes, methinks I will never forget my 24th birthday.

Another Double-Post Day

I cannot believe that tomorrow is the day of my appointment with my new oncologist. I've had such a busy last couple of weeks at work that I thought these 2 weeks would fly by. While I still spend my workdays being chronically late everywhere I go (shhh Michelle, please don't tattle on me), I'm also feeling like this has been the longest 2 weeks of my life.

One part of me feels almost a giddy excitement at the prospect of finally getting some concrete answers and a diagnosis (only 6 months, 4 doctors, and 1 surgery later). But my anxiety has gotten exponentially worse over the last 8 hours, and probably will continue to do so until my appointment tomorrow. The unknown is frustrating, but at least it's familiar.

Well, it's time for me to get out and get some fresh air. Pat's having a drink with his coworkers tonight, and I need to get the h*ll out of this house before my anxiety turns me into a crazy woman (haha, it actually might be too late for that). I'm going to go take a walk and enjoy our sunny, mild weather. I'll post an update tomorrow.

Hugs,

A Shot of Inspiration...

...for someone who is dealing with much harder struggles than myself.

We just found out today that the father of one of our best friends in MT has Stage IV Pancreatic Cancer. It's been a long 3 months for Justin and Jess, who have been dealing with the ups and downs of this diagnosis from 3,000 miles away. The progression of this terrible disease took a turn for the worse on Sunday night, and they made the decision to catch the next flight to Maine. By the grace of God, Justin's dad condition has since stabilized, but they have decided to pack up and move to the East Coast to be with Justin's family during this difficult time. No doubt Justin and Jess are exhausted from the roller coaster of a ride that they've been through over the last few months. My prayer for them (and all those who are dealing with the struggles that come with chronic illness) is that they trust in the Lord to give them the strength and energy to handle whatever comes next.

Those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.
Jeremiah 29:11

You are in our thoughts and prayers. We love you guys!

Is it the weekend yet???

TGIF!!! Don't get me wrong, I love my job. But I've been so ridiculously busy this week that I've been running habitually late every single day this week!!!! And those who know me know that I detest being late to anything. Looking forward to a relaxing weekend.