Walking on a wire...

I never thought I will have the guts to write about this because my emotions are very raw when it comes to this topic, but I guess it is when I am faced with trying situations and when I feel so frustrated and disappointed that I look back at the time of my life when I discovered my inner strength, my resiliency, and the power I had within me that I thought I never had. I will never forget that day...

It was in December of 2005 when I woke up with a lower abdominal pain that was so intense that I cannot even manage to stand up. I knew something was wrong because in the past months, I have experienced out of the ordinary menstrual cramps which usually go away when I took pain relievers. I did not think they were serious, just the usual dysmenorrhea, but that December morning, it was different. That day I decided to see my gynecologist. I thought it was the best time since I was on a Christmas break ( I was taking up a 6-month medical transcription course at that time). After the usual physical examination, my doctor told me that I had to go through an ultrasound test. And she told me not to worry too much. I had the ultrasound, and when I was in the waiting area of the clinic looking at the sonologist typing the result of my ultrasound, I definitely knew there was something wrong. I was half way through my medical transcription course at that time, and I understood every word that was written in the result of my ultrasound. I smiled and thought to myself, sometimes too much knowledge can be a curse. My gynecologist upon reading the results of my ultrasound test says that I have adenomyosis and my left ovary was cystically enlarged but was told not to worry. My option was to have a hysterectomy. My gynecologist, did not have a hard time explaining to me the procedure and I was finishing her sentences for her. TAHBSO...total abdominal hysterectomy and bilateral salpingo-oophorectomy... phew that was a mouthful.. but it just means they are going to take out my uterus, ovaries and fallopian tubes ... practically my whole reproductive system. At my age, that was the least of my concern because I already have two wonderful children.

My concern at that time was that I am in the middle of my medical transcription course and I wanted to finish it badly. I never thought I would fall in love with medical transcription (after all, I thought it could never top my greatest passion which is cooking), but I did. When I was in MT school, I enjoyed every minute of it because it was very stimulating, and I love the people I met and became friends with in school. So my question to the doctor was if can I defer the operation until I finish my MT course, which was March of 2006. And she said yes. So I went back to school after the Christmas break and finished my MT course. A job was already waiting for me but I had to defer employment until my operation was done. In January, my gynecologist scheduled another ultrasound to check if the lining of my uterus was still thickened and ordered a Doppler ultrasound. I knew that a Doppler ultrasound is a much more sophisticated ultrasound used to check if there are malignancies. I was so nervous at the time I had my Doppler, because there were two OB sonologists studying the imaging while I was listening in to their exchange of medical jargon. Little did they know that I was able to understand every thing they said. Well, all the research in the NET and all the medical dictionaries I had at home were a great help. I was relieved when I read my Doppler results because it says there that I had polyps in my uterus but they are benign. Boy was I relieved. So my gynecologist scheduled my operation on March 30, 2006. By that time, I have finished my MT course and was done with the two qualifying exams, and I was a certified medical transcriptionist. Arrangements were made for my operation, but I was forewarned that it is a standard operational procedure for the hospital to order a rush frozen section while I was still on the operating table. And that there will be a standby consultant if the need arises, dependent on the result of the rush frozen section (my gynecologist need not explain to me that specimens were to be sent to Pathology to check for malignancies while I was in the middle of the operation and they will not close me up until the results of the rush frozen section were available). So, I went through the operation, and the last thing I remembered was my husband and I talking about our plans after the operation. When I awoke from the operation, I saw my husband's face and boy was I glad that the operation was finally over. Of course inquisitive Loraine cannot wait to ask what the result of the rush frozen section was. My husband and my brother would not answer my question. They told me to relax, not to worry and just to wait for my attending doctor to tell me the results. I was just glad that my husband, my brother and my sisters were there. Next day, my attending doctor finally came in for her rounds with another doctor with a nice smile. Before she could start to tell me the prognosis, I beat her to it by asking a barrage of questions. What was the result of the rush frozen section? I told her there must be some findings because there would not be another doctor there with her if everything was alright. True enough, she introduced me to the other doctor, an OBGYN oncologist.

It was all a blur from then on. I was told I had endometrial stromal sarcoma, and there was nodal invasion. Ha! That means I had stage III cancer. I felt all eyes were looking at me, and they were all waiting for me to react violently to the news. But to everybody's surprise, I told my doctors a matter of factly, "Now that we know I am sick, what would be our battle plan because I will not wait around and let this disease beat me." I promised my doctors I will be still around to see my children get married and live to be a grandmother. The good doctor with a nice smile told me that he was flabbergasted by my response. He looked at me straight in the eye and told me that it is okay to cry. He told me he was little apprehensive because my reaction was a little bit unsettling. He made sure I was not in denial. I told the good doctor that even I was surprised at myself.

The days that followed were a roller-coaster of emotions. When I am alone, which was rare because there were always friends, classmates, relatives and family around who visited me in the hospital, I cried my heart out. I did not let my husband see me cry. I had to put up a brave front. What pains me most is not the disease itself but the pain and hurt it brought to my loved ones eyes. Little did I know that the day after my operation, my husband and my brother and sisters were crying their hearts out when they knew of my prognosis. My parents were told and they were very distressed. It was decided that my children would be told. I cannot bear to see them hurt so I acted as normal as I can but deep inside I can almost feel my heart being ripped apart.

What hurts the most was the realization of how short a life we are all given in this world. I felt time is running out for me. I realized my mortality. And the most painful was the realization that if I do leave this world... life will continue on without me...yes my loved ones will grieve for a while but they will have to move on...without me... that hurts like hell. This is so unfair, I thought to myself. I cannot just go when it is so good to be alive. I desperately wanted to be a part of my family and friends' lives. I have so many things to do. I have so many dreams that I have yet to realize. I have not even gone to all the fantastic places in the Philippines. I want to see the world. I want to see Italy to taste and feel its culinary richness. I want to see France and be awed by its museums. I want to see Switzerland and see the magnificent alps. I want to experience winter and see snow. :-) I want to visit Rome and see the Pope. Oh so many things to do, so many places to see in so little time.

The months that followed were the most challenging... endless visits to the doctors, numerous tests.. bone scan.. chest CT.. abdominal CT, and of course the chemotherapy sessions. I met the most cool doctor, my med/onco. She is a no nonsense doctor. She explained to me the regimen she would be administering. She explained all the side effects I would be experiencing. Of course through all of these, financial problems were mounting. The chemotherapy sessions were very costly. I did not know how it happened and how I finished those 12 sessions of chemotherapy and 28 days of radiation when I have no money to my name. Needless to say help poured in from family and friends and up to now I owe a lot of people money. I surprised my doctors because chemotherapy was a breeze for me. Of course I felt all those side effects my doctor warned me about, but I guess it was how I fought them that pulled me through. The most depressing part was when I started to lose my hair, not because I am vain but because that was the time I realized, I AM REALLY SICK. I never thought it would be that fast. Imagine sleeping the night before with all your hair and waking up the next day with blobs of hair in the pillow. I was afraid to comb my hair because it would literally fall off until nothing was left. I can almost feel the raw pain in my husband's eyes when he looks at me. I do not care so much for appearances and in fact I shock people when I do not wear my bandana and the wig my sister bought me because it was too damn uncomfortable. My friends were even more surprised because while I was going through treatment I would go to the mall and watch a movie and meet my friends for lunch. I just have to go on with life. My mom says I am too hardheaded. I knew I was immunocompromised but that did not stop me. Thank God I did not catch anything, not even a cold. I remember everybody in the house catching a cold because of the rainy season and I was the only one who was spared. Friends who saw me cannot believe that I was sick. In fact they tell me that I have that certain look, that I looked peaceful and contented and that I looked radiant and beautiful. My doctor friend who was my mentor in MT school told me I am the only person she knew who went through chemotherapy and improved in appearance. Maybe because I lost weight at that time. Hahahaha! :-)There was a time in my life when I avoided looking at myself in the mirror, but now when I do, I smile because I like what I see, and it is beyond the physical looks. I knew what people saw in me...inner peace and calmness because I now realize what really matters... FINALLY I GET WHAT LIFE IS ALL ABOUT AND IT IS AN INTOXICATING FEELING, A NATURAL HIGH, MORE POTENT THAN ANY MEDICINE IN THIS WORLD.. I will not even attempt to define it because I cannot. I just feel it. Once I heard a cancer survivor say that she wishes everybody the things she learned minus the sickness, and I totally agree with her.

Ironically, it was the most challenging chapter of my life, yet it was the time I felt the happiest. I felt the love of God, the warm love of family and friends. It was when I finally got what life is all about. Even the smallest thing I am thankful for. One time when I was walking on my way to work, I looked around me and I was awed and I cried because I felt so alive. The realization was so amazing. Before, I easily get pissed even at the smallest things, but now nothing fazes me anymore. Oh I still get frustrated when perfect situations go wrong, when people make life difficult for me, when some people are so petty, when they are so full of themselves, when their ego is as big as the world, and when people misunderstand my intensity and gung-ho attitude, but I take it all in stride because I know what really matters. After all, life is too short to be wasted on petty things. My fervent prayer is not to lose sight of this and keep this feeling alive in my heart forever.

** Thank you to my dear artist friend Beth Parrocha-Doctolero for lending me one of her paintings. She says it is my picture.The title is wirewalker and xtra large :-). It is part of her alphabet watercolor collection. She tells me that I am like the elephant in the picture... walking on a wire and yet there is sheer joy on the elephant's face. :-)