Part One
I want to tell you about the strongest woman I know. My wife.
But first, you need some history. Not every detail, just pertinent parts.
Let’s start back around 1988-89. We had been together more than 10 years. We both worked, our oldest son still lived with us but he also worked.
She has a passion for Dance. She absolutely LOVED to dance at discos and weddings, but mostly she loved to dance Ballet. She was in the Orchesis club in high school and loved performing on stage. After we had married, she enrolled in a local dance school and became part of their dance troupe that put on shows at various events as well as the school’s recitals with the little kids all the way up to adults. She enjoyed that immensely. What she did NOT enjoy was the toll that ballet takes on the body. Blistered, bleeding toes, foot cramps, knee pain, sore ligaments. you get the idea. Her knee swelled up around this time and a Dr. suggested a cortisone injection, to which she agreed. The swelling never really went down, but it wasn’t hurting.
Sometime around the beginning of 1990 we discovered she was pregnant with our 2nd child! She continued with the weekly dance school practices and rehearsals. But that darn knee kept her attention. After another trip to the Dr., tests were done, and it was determined it was some type of cancer, maybe bone cancer but they didn’t know and we needed to go to University of Chicago for a biopsy. Since they didn’t know what it was, they also wanted a bone marrow sample, which is a horrifying experience not only for the patient, but also the person that holds their hand during the procedure. They gave her enough morphine, before and during, that would have made anyone else unconscious. It didn’t work. I’ll not describe it here except that I could hear bone crunching noises as they took a sample from the dorsal side of her hip bone. Biopsy and marrow taken, we went home. Turns out U of C hospital had to send them to the Mayo Clinic for help in identifying what it was..
About two weeks later, it’s confirmed that it is NOT bone cancer, but a tumor on the knee. A large-celled lymphoma. Next step, talk to the Oncologist for a plan. Sorry, can’t do anything until after the baby is born. Chemotherapy IS poison, you know. Some precautionary tests, checking lymph nodes, etc, we wait for our son to meet us.
The day approaches and our son’s birth is scheduled for a C-section, we go in, nervous as can be and everything works out perfectly! What a wondrous and happy moment!
Once home, it’s back to reality. Phone calls, Dr. visits, a plan is made. Because of her age, 36, aggressive chemo is planned because she is young enough to handle it for 12 weeks. Then radiation therapy for 5 weeks. The chemo was to be administered through a device called a ‘medi-port’, which required a day surgery to have it implanted in her chest. Two months after she gave birth, she is in a ‘chemo chair’ in the oncologist’s clinic. First time the mediport is used and the pain is awful. Not from the chemicals, but from inserting the needle into the port. Next week, they try again but it is still too sore. They don’t like to do it, but they gave the rest of her treatments intravenously. The chemo is rough on her. She is sick all the time, especially the day after, weak, tired, metallic taste in her mouth, food tastes terrible, and worst of all, she is losing her hair. To a woman, that is devastating. To her, it was THE worst part of chemo.
Let’s not forget about that 2-month old baby we have. For obvious reasons, she had to stop breastfeeding him once chemo started. This is where the Saints of our family appeared. My Mother, her Mother and even her sister’s Mother-in-law, were here for that baby daily. Not all at once, of course, we made a schedule. I could still work and the baby would would have the best possible babysitters with 3 of his Grandmas. Bless them all. Lucky baby.
When all is done, she is doing much better, the tumor has shrunken and died, no more surgery and she is back to working again. Life goes back to normal until 2001, when, as we were getting ready for Christmas Eve at my brother’s house, her leg breaks. She is standing in her dressing area of her bathroom, turns to say something to our son that is sitting on the bed, and her leg snaps. Our now 11 year old son heard the cracking sound, and she tells him to go get Daddy. I run in and she’s on the floor in a lot of pain. Ambulance comes, takes her to the hospital (where she works) and the Drs. are called in. On Christmas Eve. At 7 o’clock in the evening. One of her Drs. arrives and tells us that her femur broke straight across. Not a normal fracture. Dr. then tells us, they can’t fix it there. She needs to go to Rush Presbyterian St. Luke’s Hospital, where they know more about these things. Next thing we know, she is being helicoptered to Cook County hospital and from there transferred to Rush. I have to get myself downtown pronto. I find her room and she is crying in extreme pain. I ask the nurses when is she going in for surgery and they tell me not until the 26th. Remember, it is late Christmas Eve. She has to lay in bed with a broken leg for almost 2 days.
To summarize the next 3 years, she goes through 4 surgeries that never actually got any results until the final, 5th surgery, done by a doctor that was asked to take a look and see if he could help. This guy was something amazing. You could see and feel the respect he got from everyone around. He tells us, matter of factly, “that bone will never heal. I know how to fix it.” Talk about confidence! We actually felt hopeful! The lower part of her femur is dead from the radiation treatment years ago. Final surgery was a success; remove and replace dead bone with a total knee replacement and some extra metal. By 2006-07, she is walking again, but carefully, with a cane, that she eventually no longer needs. Things continue to improve and she is dancing with me at the Elks Lodge and an occasional wedding. Soon, she barely has a limp.
All is well and good. Life is normal again.
Until January 1st, 2016.
END part (1)
Thoughts in my head. Some old, some new. 